Tessa followed, pulled along by Wade, her eyes widened at the sight of the bloody trail left behind. Her thoughts were running wild, searching for some means of understanding this level of brutality. Inside the back of the van, she was released from the duck-tape and shoved towards the wall. As the door clanged shut, the light revealed the man lying just a couple feet from her, his groan of pain piercing to her heart. “Mr. Ryde.” She knelt by his side, hoping to get a response.
“Sorry…about this…” His hand gripped her own, slick with a covering of blood from the wound on his stomach.
“You’re trying to help me, don’t be sorry.” Tears slid down her pale face and dripped on the floor. “Please, stay alive. I can’t do this without you.” Unable to remain conscious, he slipped away into a sea of painless nothing and slumped against her leg. It scared her, awaking the little bit of fire in her heart. Looking around at the sparsely furnished van, her eyes landed on some rags. She attempted to staunch the blood from the wounds before carefully bandaging as many of the wounds, to prevent the constant flow. When the vehicle pulled to a stop, the doors opened and the man gripped her arm, jerking her out onto the ground. He used Ethan’s collar to pull the unconscious man out, tossing him roughly to the ground. His eyes opened and a groan of pain escaped his lips, while harsh cough wracked his body.
A woman on the opposite sidewalk, shrieked and took off down an alley before one of the guards caught up with her. “Please, I have a child!” Her plea was cut short by blood coming out of her throat and spilling onto the ground. Tessa’s scream was stopped by a blow to the head, causing her to black out temporarily. They were dragged through a door into the entrance to a prominent office building, the wounded man attempting a final struggle while his strength lasted. The door closed, the van drove away, but the street still held evidence that a group had passed through, the lamp glinting off the dog tags left on the ground.
20
A nurse sat at her desk, filing paperwork for the day and listening to the hubbub of the staff around the corridors. She noticed a woman walking in, her face stained with tears and hair falling down her back. The woman approached the desk, hesitated, then opened her mouth. “I’m looking for a Colonel Almira Morgen who was admitted a couple of hours ago.”
“She’s in room 54 on the left, but the doctor hasn’t approved any visits, unless there is a family connection.” Her lovely hand pushed the hair out of her eyes, revealing the bright brown eyes.
“It’s military business. She was expecting my husband to report back, but he’s been detained. There can’t be any delay.” The nurse pursed her lips, considering the options before smiling.
“Alright, honey. Go right ahead, can’t stop the military from performing their duties.” She pointed in the direction, getting up out of her chair.
“Thank you.” Amber rushed down the hallway, bursting into the door, surprising the woman on the bed. “Colonel Morgen?” She nodded, guarded trying to sit up without hurting the bandaged limb. “Ethan’s gone missing. You were at the house before…he left.”
“Yes, I was.” Morgen spoke, alert to the all the terrible implications that this held for both of the missing persons. “How did you know that I was admitted to the hospital?”
“That’s not important, but the local authorities can’t be alerted. A man connected with multiple criminal operations has taken over control and has them on his payroll.” It confirmed the military woman’s worst fears, making it nearly impossible to interfere.
“Ethan went in to a warehouse on the wharf under faulty surveillance. They were fed a recording.” Amber stood at the window, checking the street with nervous eyes. “What happened between you?”
“The man behind this is using my friend as a hostage, against your husband’s life. My original plan was to turn him over to them, then alert the authorities.” She saw the woman stiffen, her silhouette sharply contrasted in the light. “He means a lot to you.”
“We’re…family.” Amber spoke softly, turning with a smile and the ringed hand pressed to her lips. “The children need their father, help us find him.” Her words cut Morgen to the core, tearing her heart to shreds. For a long moment, she couldn’t speak because of the pain in her chest. She’d lost him again, after all these years, maybe for good. His life wasn’t worth the time of day to a man who was so well-connected.
“This won’t be easy.” Her voice shook, eyes focused on the floor as the thoughts ran through her mind. “Who do we have on the ground?” There wasn’t an answer, only a confused expression from the woman sitting in the chair. “Sorry, did Ethan go with anyone else?”
“Our daughter…Zara.” Morgen couldn’t believe her ears, remembering the name on the birth certificate after Ethan’s first marriage. “She has some connections who are helping to locate him now.”
“What kind of connections?” She ignored the burning curiosity to focus on the real issue, leaning forward despite the pain.
“I don’t know. She talked about a man called Dhamar, but that’s it.” It was just a name, not enough to go on. “I’ll call her to see if they’ve discovered anything.” The phone rang for a while before a voice at the other end answered, a man’s voice.
“Mrs. Ryde, thank for contacting us. Zara is out in the field without a tracker, no phones, but can I help you?”
“You’re Dhamar?” Amber was hopeful, thinking that his connection to her daughter would be a mark of his loyalty.
“Yes. Have you located the colonel? Can she help us?” His voice was full of excitement, tapping away at his computer while speaking.
“Dhamar, she wants to know who Zara is working with before making a decision.” There was silence, only the breathing of a thinking man.
“This is off the record, you have to get her assurance that there won’t be any repercussions from this conversation.” Amber turned to Morgen who was watching with interest from the bed.
“He wants you to promise that this conversation doesn’t leave this room.” Inwardly, she had a brief frivolous thought – I’ve always wanted to say that. Morgen bit her lip, then nodded.
“Of course, whatever he wants.” Amber was nervous, her breathing shallow and loud in the speaker.
“She promised, Dhamar. Go ahead.” His voice was calm, but there was an undertone of excitement.
“Zara was raised by an arms dealer, Ahmed Hassan.” Morgen gasped, remembering the names from files. “When he died, she took over the cartel. We’re working on locating your husband, but…it’s difficult since the city is under the control of another criminal organization led by Gaspar Patricks. The authorities haven’t been able to keep him behind bars long enough for a trial. That’s where the colonel can help. Her men aren’t under the jurisdiction of the local authorities or under this man’s payroll.”
“Dhamar should know that my service in the military ended four months ago when the LAPD police department hired me as a detective for the homicide of Angelica Parks.”
“That was one of Gaspar Patricks jobs, but no one can prove that his men iced the old bag for her knowledge. The police had to back off, but a detective was pulled off the case…Colonel Morgen.”
“Is there a way to get in touch with Mr. Patricks?” Morgen asked, using the time to slip on a jacket over the hospital gown.
“Our only means of contact would be a direct challenge…otherwise there’s no getting through to the man.” Dhamar bit his nails, unsure of what Zara would have him do.
“Do it.” Morgen said, sliding her good leg over the bed and slipping on a shoe before wincing.
“I can’t initiate contact until Zara returns. Your friends are in Allah’s hands.” She swore at the pain, angrily grasping the crutch leaning on the chair.
“He’s right.” Amber suddenly spoke for the first time, her voice steady and face thoughtful. “Zara is the cartel’s leader, they won’t follow anyone else’s orders. But we can start to follow a lead – old case files on this Parks woman. There might be a cl
ue that you missed before, clues that can be supplied by a rival gang with nothing to lose.” Her logic surprised the woman who was leaning on the weight of the crutch and attempting to make her way to the bathroom.
“You should have been a detective.” Amber shook her head, using her free hand to open the bathroom door to let Morgen in without any further problems.
“Dhamar, send me the file on Gaspar Patricks. Every dirty secret that this scumbag has will help rescue Ethan and the civilian.”
“Of course, Mrs. Ryde. May Allah be with you.” She set the phone down on the hospital table, her heart pounding from fear and excitement. The man she loved was threatened by a man who had controlled her life for years, beating the life and intelligence out of her until she had believed his words. You are not smart. You can’t make good decisions. You are a burden. But Ethan had refused to accept that, forcing her to face the truth and begin to use her mind without his help. It was strangely freeing and a heavy weight to bear at the same time. His life was depending on her ability to think clearly without allowing the fear to cloud her judgement.
21
The office room they were hustled into was sparse with a glass desk in the middle. A man sat behind it, his stomach protruding over the waistband of his pants and straining against the buttons of his suit jacket. “Get blood on my carpet and you’ll pay for it with your lives.” His voice was a deep, rumbling bass that carried a great deal of weight in the volume. Gazini stopped, still on the marble flooring and let go of Ethan’s collar. The wounded man slumped to the ground, barely able to register the events going on around him. “Major Ryde, you’ve caused a great deal of trouble for me and these men. Give us the location of the woman, don’t worry about her safety. Mr. Waters needs a woman to keep up appearances in society. She may not be happy, but she’ll live. Otherwise, his friend will beat the information out of you and her blood will be on your head.”
“You won’t get her location from me.” Ethan’s voice was low and inaudible, forcing his tormenter to grip him by the collar, jerking his body upwards.
“Speak up before Mr. Patricks or I’ll slit the girl’s throat.” His threat barely pierced the fog that was covering Ethan’s thoughts.
“Ask someone else.” He spit the words out, blood sliding down the edge of his mouth and the blue eyes a defiant storm of icy grey. Blood came out in a thick stream as Gazini struck him in the stomach, his body doubling over.
“He’s a hard man to break, sir.” Wade spoke, gesturing to the man kneeling on the floor who turned his head to observe the abuser of his sweet Amber closely. “Our intelligence has recovered a possible position for the woman. Should we sent a guard to pick her up?”
“Do it. But don’t stop working this piece of trash over for any information on her or that gutter rat, Zara Hassan.” None of them had their eyes on the girl who was carefully, edging her way to the door. Then Ethan caught a glimpse of her hand on the handle.
“Stay away from my family.” His words were full of venom, legs attempting to assist his body in rising from the ground. Gazini placed the machete on his neck, bringing out more blood that stained the white shirt collar. Their attention had been distracted enough to let the girl slip out of the door and take off down the hallway. Her breath came in short gasps as she rushed down the stairs toward the parking garage, hoping to find a police officer or a phone.
“Your family belongs to me, son.” Patricks mocked the helpless man, his jowls curving up into a smile. “I own half this city, including the authorities. They don’t stand a chance. You should talk to me, let me protect that pretty wench instead of letting Captain Gazini near her.” Tears mingled with the blood on Ethan’s face, the pain and fear beginning to break his resolve – a desperate plan was forming in his mind. “Mr. Waters, where did that girl go? You should be more careful of your hostages. Find her before they do.” He looked at Gazini for a moment, examining the man whose neck was pressed to the sharp metal blade and still managed to muster up defiance. “Take this piece of trash out of my office. Break him. We need to finish this fight.” Before Ethan could react, his arms were being pinioned behind his back and they dragged him out of the office. In the hallway, Wade took off toward the stairs with a gun in his hand.
“You are a very unlucky man.” Gazini dragged the wounded man into an abandoned office room, filled with various instruments and a cot. His arms were fastened to the edge of the metal table, longer straps on his waist and chest. “Do you know what this is, Mr. Ryde?” The instrument twirled in the light, coming dangerously near Ethan’s eye.
“A bloody scalpel. Didn’t know I needed surgery, my last physical wasn’t a problem.” He gave the sadistic man a pained smile, trying to hide the fear that was pulsing through his body.
“You think you’re funny.” The reply was drowned out by the groan of pain coming from Ethan’s mouth as the blade drew a long deep line on his chest. His breathing was loud, struggling to gain control of the situation and keep a cool thought process. Don’t let them see your fear. Go to a safe place in your mind…Amber…Amber…Amber. The name became a mantra, repeated to ignore the blade slicing into his skin and causing immense pain in waves across his body. Eventually everything blended together into a sea of unconsciousness, slipping away to the freedom of a painless existence inside his mind.
Two blocks away, Tessa sat hiding behind a trash disposal, aware of the blood on her hands. There was no means of getting a phone in this condition, someone would call the police who wouldn’t listen to her wild story. It hardly seemed plausible in her own mind after going through it. She saw a line of washing waving in the breeze and an idea came to her mind. When Wade reached the same area and began to search, he passed over a bent woman in a Hajib without a second glance. His eyes scanned the crowds of people, searching for the platinum blonde head and failing. She hurried around the corner, using the wall to guide her down a second alley and out to the main street. Here she hailed a taxi and directed it to the address that had been scribbled down on a sheet of sticky notes, hoping that it was Amber’s friend.
Wade cursed his ill-fortune, running his fingers through the greasy mass of hair on his head before returning to the building. His friend met him at the entrance, a frown on his face. “Where is the girl?”
“Couldn’t find her.” Wade sank into an office chair, using the desk as a foot rest and looking out the window. “Gave me the slip.”
“This is a problem, Mr. Waters. It can’t be fixed by simply getting back your wife now. She’s seen where we have been, knows who we have been talking to.” Gazini used the marble sink to wash the blood of his hands, the water turning a pale sickly red.
“I know. What about Ryde, have you gotten any information out of him?” The big man shook his head, bearing his teeth in anger.
“He is as stubborn and silent as the report we read. If he doesn’t talk soon, he’ll die from the loss of blood or pain.”
“We don’t have the time that is necessary to brainwash the man.” Wade brought his fist down on the desk, angrily shouting. “Break that man, Gazini, or Mr. Patricks will be more than happy to throw both our bodies underneath the same construction site as your cousin.” Without another word, the big man turned and began returning to his odious task.
Water splashing over the face of the unconscious man, his eyes opening and chest gasping for air. Then the waves of pain hit him. His groan fell on the deaf ears of his tormentor who was running his fingers over the instruments on the tray. Ethan’s eyes ran around the room, searching for a means of escape. As he moved, his fingers felt the cold metal of the scalpel – left by his side. When Gazini turned around, he felt the scalpel rip into the flesh of his neck and draining the life out of him. His last sight was the door shutting behind the soldier who had suffered so much at his hand. Dishonor – that is what you have brought on us. The words of his father during the last conversation they had echoed in his dying mind.
Ethan staggered along the hallway, hand grippi
ng the wound on his stomach, trying to keep the blood from pouring out with every step. His vision was blurring, body begging to stop the exertion that he was putting it through. The stairs appeared to his right, while an elevator stood to his left. Despite his instinct in knowing that the elevator was a liability, he knew that his strength was limited. The light turned red while he leaned heavily against the wall, sinking to the floor to conserve the reserves of strength. A groan escaping his lips, the blood trickling down the side of his mouth. As the doors slid open, he dragged himself in before using the railing to pull himself onto his feet and pressed the button with a trembling hand. Calming music played on the ride down, at odds with the passenger leaning against the wall and gasping for breath.
The lobby was empty except for a young woman at the main desk, her head bent down over the keyboard. Her eyes remained focused on the screen, not observing the wounded man limping across the floor. Then they flicked over to the live video feed and looked at him. A scream echoed against the marble walls, her coffee shattering on the floor. He ignored her, stumbling out of the door into a crowd of people who gasped – the women stepping away quickly. “You got a car?” His voice was calm, eyes meeting those of a man who stood directly in front of him without moving away.
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