by Elle James
Sachi nodded, almost imperceptibly. “He was following a story about human trafficking in the DC area. He wrote that he suspected someone in the Russian embassy was responsible for transporting women out of the US.” She pulled a small leather-bound journal out of her voluminous bag and pushed it across the table. “I bent the page where Tyler noted that he suspected one of the higher-ranking embassy staff was involved. He’d seen the man outside a hotel with a very young woman who’d appeared to stagger and drag her feet, maybe drugged.
“He’d gone back to that hotel and asked questions of the staff, most of whom knew nothing about any potential human trafficking going on beneath their roof. But some of them were less talkative and more guarded. Tyler had planned a stakeout to capture more evidence on video. He’d even given up a chance to be with me in order to gather the evidence he needed to turn the mastermind behind the human trafficking in to the authorities.
“That had been the night before. Since then, Tyler has disappeared.” Sachi’s voice faded into a silent sob. “I don’t know where he is or who took him.”
“Sachi, I was at the embassy two days ago, interpreting for your father. I saw Tyler Blunt there.”
The other woman’s eyes grew wide. “You saw him? That was the day he disappeared.”
“Your father was very angry about your relationship with the journalist,” Emily said. “He stormed out of the meeting, shouting.”
Sachi shook her head. “He came to me and told me that I had to break up with Tyler. I told him that I would not. I would leave the embassy and him if he banned me from seeing the man I love.”
“What did he say?”
“He threatened to pay Tyler to quit seeing me. I told my father I would never speak to him again if he damaged my relationship with Tyler.”
“Is your father capable of kidnapping and potentially murdering?” Emily asked quietly.
Sachi shook her head. “I’ve known my father to get very angry, but he has never hurt another human being. I don’t think he would hurt Tyler.”
“Have you ever suspected your father of having any dealings with the buying and selling of women to other countries for profit?” Mustang asked between bites of the crepe.
Sachi’s eyes opened even wider. “No. Of course not. He was very much in love with my mother, and he’s been a good father, so very protective of the women in his family and on his staff. He would never hurt another woman. His anger is legendary, but his kindness is equally revered.” She glanced down at her watch. “I’ve told you all I know. Now I have to get back to my bodyguards before they call my father or send out a search party.”
Emily wanted to ask more questions but the woman was clearly packing up her things to leave. “Let us escort you back to your people,” Emily offered.
Sachi frowned. “I don’t know. It might be better if I show up alone.”
“Please,” Emily implored. “With so many attempts on my life, what if the information you just passed on to us is what our attackers are after? That could place you in just as much danger as myself and the private investigator who was assigned to follow you and Tyler around.”
“No one knows that I know about Tyler’s journal and its contents besides you two.”
“I’d feel better if we followed you back. You know the investigator is in the hospital?”
“The private investigator who was following us?” Sachi asked. “No, I did not.”
“Someone broadsided him on his motorcycle last night and then tried to hit us, as well.”
Sachi’s hand fluttered over the scarf. “I did not know. Will he live?”
Emily shook her head. “Only time will tell. He was still unconscious, the last word I received.”
Sachi shook her head. “I hope he recovers. And, yes, I would like you to follow me, but not so close that it appears obvious to onlookers.”
Mustang tossed his crepe into a trash bin as he followed Emily and Sachi from the food truck.
Emily hurried after Sachi, afraid she’d get too far ahead of them to provide any kind of protection should someone try to harm her.
The ambassador’s daughter wove her way through the throngs of people milling about the flea market, until she emerged along another street where a homeless man dug in a trash can and a black limousine stood ten yards farther against the curb.
Sachi didn’t slow until she reached the limousine.
Emily watched as Sachi came to a stop in front of one of the bodyguards. She frowned heavily at the big, burly man standing at the rear door of the limousine. Then she backed away quickly.
The man caught her arm and yanked her against him. And just like that, the situation went to hell.
Sachi screamed and struggled against the big guy’s grip on her.
Emily leaped forward, racing toward Sachi, too far away to be of any real assistance. But she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
Sachi was forced into the back of the limousine.
“Emily,” Mustang called out, his footsteps pounding on the ground behind her.
She couldn’t stop. Sachi was in trouble and they’d promised to see her safely to her people. The man at the limousine had obviously not been one of her regular bodyguards.
As Emily and Mustang reached the limousine, the burly guy had already slammed the door and was moving toward the front passenger door.
“Hey!” Emily called out.
The man turned and faced her.
Mustang caught up with her before she reached the big man who’d shoved Sachi into the limousine.
Still more footsteps sounded behind Emily and Mustang.
Mustang spun, but not soon enough to block the steel pipe that crashed down at the base of his skull. He went down and lay as still as death at Emily’s feet.
“Mustang?” she cried and dove for the man who’d saved her life on more than one occasion.
A hand caught her hair before she hit the ground and yanked her back.
She screamed and fought, but the man holding her hair clamped strong arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground.
The man who’d wrestled with Sachi pulled open the door to the back seat. Emily was deposited like a sack of potatoes onto the floorboard and the door was slammed shut behind her.
Sachi lay on the floor, sobbing.
“Are these your bodyguards?” Emily demanded.
Sachi shook her head. “I’ve never seen these men before.”
Emily found the door handle and pulled hard, but the door wouldn’t open. The locks were obviously controlled by the driver up front. She pounded her fists against the glass windows but they didn’t break.
And Mustang lay on the ground, unmoving.
Was he dead?
Oh, dear God, Emily prayed. Please let him live.
The limousine pulled away, rounded a corner and left Mustang behind.
Chapter Sixteen
“Hey, mister,” a voice said through the fog of Mustang’s brain.
Mustang blinked his eyes open and stared sideways at what appeared to be dirt and shoes.
A man squatted beside him and peered into his eyes. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
“What happened?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. I just found you lying here, unconscious. You have a heck of a goose egg on the back of your head and it’s bleeding a little. I’m going to call an ambulance.” He pulled out his cell phone and looked down at the screen.
“No,” Mustang said and pushed to his hands and knees. Pain ripped through the back of his skull and reverberated throughout his head. His thoughts were just starting to gel when he remembered. “Emily.” He staggered to his feet and swayed. “Two women. Did you see them?”
The man shook his head, a frown denting his forehead. “No. Just you.” He looked around. “No women.
I really think you need to see a doctor. You could have a concussion.”
Mustang started to shake his head and thought better of it. “No, thank you. I’ll be okay. I have to go.” He fished in his pocket for his cell phone and punched Declan’s number.
Declan answered immediately. “Mustang, where are you? We just arrived at the flea market.”
“They’re gone,” he said, his stomach roiling, his head throbbing with pain and regret.
“What do you mean they’re gone?” Declan asked.
“We were escorting Sachi back to her vehicle when someone hit me from behind.” He pressed a hand to the back of his head and winced when it came into contact with the goose-egg-size lump at the base of his skull. “I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but they’re gone. Nowhere to be seen.”
“I’m at the entrance to the market by the kettle corn booth. Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
“I don’t need an ambulance,” Mustang bit out. “I need to find Emily.” He sprinted toward the entrance. “I’m on my way to you.”
Minutes later he met up with Declan and Cole.
“I let Charlie know what was happening,” Declan said. “We’re in luck. The hooded sweatshirt she gave Emily to wear had a GPS tracking chip in the pocket.” Declan shook his head. “That woman knows all the tricks. Cole will forward the link to her tracker. Mack, Gus and Snow are on their way. They’re bringing firepower, as well.”
A huge wave of relief washed over Mustang for all of a split second. Sure, they might find her, but would it be too late?
A few moments later he climbed into Declan’s truck and settled back against the passenger seat. Cole got into the back seat.
How had he let this happen? Mustang had seen the limousine and the man who’d shoved Sachi inside. Otherwise, the street had been fairly empty. Where had the man come from who’d hit him in the back of the head? An image flashed in his mind, one of a homeless man digging in the trash near the limousine. Had he been a decoy? Did it matter? The fact was, Emily and Sachi had been taken. He’d bet the men with the limousine weren’t her regular bodyguards. She hadn’t gone into the vehicle willingly. Mustang was sure Emily wouldn’t have gotten in without a fight.
A text came in on Declan’s cell phone. He handed it to Mustang. “I’ll drive. You communicate.”
Mustang read the text out loud. “‘Heading to Baltimore on Interstate Highway 295. About one hour ahead of us.’” He frowned. “Why would they go to Baltimore?”
“Guess we’re going to find out,” Declan said, pressing his foot down hard on the accelerator as he merged onto Highway 295 heading out of DC. Traffic was thick, but not as bad as on a regular workday.
Declan broke all the speed limits, weaving in between cars and eighteen wheelers. They made record time up the highway and probably cut the usual travel time nearly by half.
As they approached Baltimore, another text came through.
Mustang read it. “‘Take Interstate 895 to the 695 south bypass.’”
Declan followed the directions. “Mack and the others must be a good fifteen minutes ahead of us.”
Mustang nodded, his mind on the road ahead and every potential scenario he could imagine.
“She’ll be okay,” Declan assured him.
Cole leaned over the back seat and tapped Mustang’s shoulder. “We’ll get her out of this.”
Mustang couldn’t respond. He’d let her down. Failed in his duty to protect her. But he couldn’t dwell on that. Getting her back alive was his goal. Failure on this mission wasn’t an option.
Declan’s cell phone rang with Mack’s Caller ID on the display screen.
Declan answered via the Bluetooth option on his truck.
Mack’s voice sounded over the speaker. “The tracker has slowed considerably and, get this...they’re in the Baltimore shipyard. We’re not close enough yet to see what terrain we’ll have to deal with, but we’ll get as close as we can and wait for you to catch up.”
“Roger,” Declan said. “We should be there in approximately fifteen minutes.”
“Where the hell are they taking them?” Mustang muttered.
Declan shook his head and increased their speed. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”
* * *
THE LIMOUSINE’S WINDOWS had been blackened, not allowing the passengers a view of where they were going. When the vehicle finally stopped, Emily and Sachi were ready to fight for their escape. As soon as the door opened, Emily dove out onto concrete and rolled across the ground. She was up on her feet and ready to run, but she was captured before she could take two steps. Someone with beefy arms caught her around the middle. Dusk had settled in early with an overcast sky, making it difficult to ascertain where she was. All she could see were tall stacks of metal freight containers.
She screamed as loud as she could. It bought her a dirty rag in her mouth and a sack over her head. Then she was flung over her captor’s shoulder, her legs clamped tightly by his arm. No matter how much she tried to kick and buck, she couldn’t free herself from her stronger captor. She was carried across a long, flat area. Then her abductor was walking across something that wasn’t concrete. His footsteps clanged on what sounded like metal, maybe a bridge, and then he stepped down onto another surface.
Emily strained to make out this new sound. Again, it could have been metal, only it wasn’t as hollow as the clanging noise. Where had they taken her and Sachi? Muffled sobbing reassured her that Sachi was still with her, even if they were both still kept captive.
She was carried down metal steps and still more steps. Finally the clang of metal against metal indicated a door being opened. With all the sounds of metal, and the shipping containers she’d seen when she’d attempted her escape, Emily had to conclude they had been taken on board a ship. She could smell and hear the lapping of waves.
Her heart constricted and her pulse raced. Escaping from solid walls and doors of a ship would be much more difficult than if she’d been taken to a building. And if the ship went out to sea, there was the matter of where she could escape to.
Emily was dumped on the floor. Someone else landed beside her with an umph.
By the time she pulled the sack off her head and the rag from her mouth, the door to her new cell closed and the sound of gears turning on the other side indicated it had been sealed.
Darkness surrounded her. There was no portal and no light leaked around the edges of the door as it was doubtlessly designed to be watertight. That was probably why they’d not bound their hands. Why bother when they were dumping them in this light-deprived cell?
“Sachi?” Emily whispered.
“Da,” Sachi responded, her voice catching on a sob. “Where are we?”
“I think we’re on board a ship.” Emily sat on a hard metal floor. This wasn’t a cruise ship with carpeting and soft, comfy beds. Since it was located near a shipyard with containers, it was probably a no-frills freighter. She felt her way around the room. Their cell was completely empty, nothing but a box in which to contain them.
“We have to get out of here,” Emily said, fighting the feeling that the walls were closing in around her.
“How?” Sachi sniffed.
“There has to be a handle on the door. We just have to find it.”
Emily ran her hands along the walls until she located the edges of the door. She found a wheel handle in the middle and tried to turn it. No matter how hard she pulled on it in either direction, it would not budge. “It must be locked from the other side.”
She sat next to Sachi, took her hand in hers and tried to think of a way to break the lock. With nothing harder than the clothes they were wearing or the sacks they’d had pulled over their heads, they had no way to break through the door or to apply leverage to the wheel handle. The only way out was if someone let them out.
Emily sighed.
“We’ll have to wait until someone opens the door. But we should be ready.”
“Tell me how,” Sachi said. “I’ll help.”
Emily handed her one of the bags their captors had used to subdue them with. “Rip this into long strips.”
“What are we going to do with them?” Sachi asked.
“I have a plan but we need to act fast.” She took the other bag and tore lengths of two-inch-wide strips. Once they had both bags torn up, she tied the strips together into two long ropes.
“We’ll position ourselves on either side of the door, but out of sight as much as possible. When someone comes through the door to look for us, we’ll use one rope to trip him and the other to tie him up.”
“What if there is more than one?” Sachi asked.
“Then we trip the second one through the door. He’ll fall into the first one and we’ll make our escape while they’re picking themselves up off the floor.” The plan was weak at best, and it would only work if someone came through their door.
For the next thirty minutes they sat on either side of the door, waiting in the dark.
“My father thinks my relationship with Tyler is just a passing fling,” Sachi whispered.
“And how do you feel?” Emily asked softly.
“If he asks me to marry him, I will. I love him with all my heart.”
Emily thought of how long she’d known Mustang and how much he was already a part of her life. She didn’t want to think about their eventual parting. She’d never felt that way about any man. And she’d only been with him for two short days. “How long have you known each other?”
Sachi laughed. “Two weeks. Two weeks and I know in my heart he’s the one for me.”
“Does he feel the same?”
She laughed again, the sound catching on a sob. “He told me that he loves me even before I was sure.”
“Do you worry that he might be using you to get closer to what’s going on at the embassy?”
“No. He said he’d walk away from any story if it would prove to me that he is truly in love with me.” She sighed. “I believe him. He’s a good man who only wants to report the truth so that bad things can be fixed and the good can be revealed. Just read his articles and listen to his reports. You would know who he is by his work.”