As If The Whole World Were Watching (The Dom's of The Cage Series Book 6)

by P Nelson

  “You’re with the Canadian Government.” Flynn stated. Anger, rage and something close to what a berserker might have felt before battle pulsed in his veins. “I know my fucking rights. We’re still on Canadian soil. Let us go and I’ll make sure you don’t have to push a broom down the sidewalk for the rest of your life.”

  &

  Calla’s fingers shook. Each one was bleeding, her nails beyond compromised, but she had created a hole in the wall big enough to fit her. She glanced around the small room and had to believe there was a camera focused on her every move. There was no way of knowing what lay on the other side of the wall. Could be a locked room, a hallway or a storage closet. Anything. But it was better than here.

  She gathered up her courage. Ignored her scraped and bleeding knees, the way her hands burned and throbbed. This would save Flynn’s life. All she needed to do was get to him. Calla closed her eyes. What she didn’t need was another panic attack. She would face the next challenge with calm.

  What would Linkin do?

  Calla discarded the heel in her hand, Calla moved her body through the hole she made in the wall. It was small enough she had to wiggle through on her side. She hadn’t dug to the floor. After doing a wiggle and push with her legs, she popped through to the next room. With effort she sprung up to her knees, Calla used the wall for balance to stand up. It was dark. The only light coming through the hole she had made to the other room. Calla filled her lungs with a long breath and exhaled. She did this a few times and allowed her eyes to adjust to the gloom. They had stacked the room with boxes.

  As quietly as possible, Calla tiptoed to the nearest stack of boxes. It was too dark to read the label, but it was in Chinese characters, anyway. No help there. Calla walked back to the wall and followed it around until she felt a door handle. With blood pumping in her ears, Calla turned around and stretched her aching fingers out to grab onto the handle. Tears of defeat fell down her cheeks when she couldn’t move the doorknob. In a rush of anger, Calla grabbed onto the handle and wrenched with all her strength.

  The next instant saw her flat on her ass her hands underneath her. One of her wrists screamed in pain. She ignored the possible broken wrists and gulped in lungful’s of air to remain quiet. Calla scuttled to the side of the hallway she now occupied and glanced back and forth.

  It looked like she was inside a big warehouse. The lights in the hallway came from big overhead lamps. Voices came from all directions. “But she wasn’t sure what to do now, try to escape and go for help? Or get her hands free and try to rescue everyone on her own. Instinct told her to get free. Get help. This situation was way beyond anything she knew how to handle.

  She closed her eyes. The image of Flynn falling in the elevator. Calla did not know if she would see him alive again. She opened her eyes. In situations like this, time mattered. For all Calla knew, the time she took to get the authorities could mean life and death. She glanced left to right and tried to choose. Voices from the left meant there were mercenaries or other enemies. With no weapon or leverage they would capture her again.

  Staying close to the wall Calla walked with as much care as possible to remain silent down the wall. She came across another door and tried the handle. Calla did her best to force it, but didn’t have as much luck as she had with the other one. Heart in her throat creeping down the rest of the hallway, she came to another door. With little thought she did her best to wrap her hands around the handle and tried to force it open. Nothing.

  “Hello?” A voice from inside the room gave her such a fright Calla squeaked and jumped back, almost causing her to fall to her knees again. “Jesus, Calla. Is that you?” The voice whispered.

  “Nick?” Calla shook all over but did her best to remember her new resolve not to panic. She sidled up to the door.

  “Yes. How the hell did you get out? Do you have a weapon? Key?” He questioned in rapid succession.

  “No key.” A hysterical bubble of laughter caught in her throat. She did her best to keep it down. “Sometimes it’s better to be a woman than a man. Is Flynn with you?” She asked.

  “Calla, you need to focus.” Nick scolded. He must have heard the oncoming hysteria.

  “I am focusing. Is Flynn with you?” Calla pictured him passed out on the concrete.

  “No. He’s not in here.” Nick replied.

  “And Linkin?” She asked.

  “They separated us as soon as the van stopped.” Nick responded. “Calla, do you see anything around you that will open this door?” His tone even.

  “No, I’m in a hallway. The only other room I’ve been in was full of boxes. But I can’t read the labels.” Calla’s focus on giving Nick the information he needed calmed her further.

  “OK.” Nick sounded disappointed, but he would not give up. “You need to keep going down the hall, Calla, and try to find something that will break this door open. Or even something as small as a paperclip. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes I understand.” Calla stared down the hall. It ended in another hallway, but there were only a few rooms left on either side of this one.

  “I want you to count to one hundred in your head.” Nick continued. “When you get to one hundred. Come back. That way I’ll know your safe OK?”

  “Count to one hundred and come back.” Calla said. “Got it.”

  “If you come back and I’m not here, assume they have taken me. Get out of here and call the number we forced you to memorise.” He finished.

  “OK.” Calla pressed her forehead against the door. “If you see Flynn. Tell him I love him.” She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other side.

  “You will tell him yourself Calla. And he will place a wedding ring beside that trinket he gave you earlier. There is way more going on here than corporate espionage.” Nick assured her. “Count to one hundred.”

  “I’ll be back.” She promised. Calla hadn’t thought about a ring on her finger. She could feel her fingers and hoped the beautiful ruby set in diamonds showed no damage. The ring could wait. Calla counted and moved down the hall, her steps quicker than they’d been before she found Nick. There were only two more doors until the end of the hall. She found both locked. No amount of twisting and pushing caused them to open.

  At the end of the long hall, she found one of the outside walls of the warehouse. They made it of the same thick corrugated iron sheets of The Cage. Except Flynn had insulated The Cage and when Calla brushed up against this metal, it was cold. She checked in each direction, she spotted what looked like the end of a desk. She was halfway through her count when she started towards the desk.

  It looked like there was an office here. The desk had a chair tucked in and two out in front. Various piles of papers set on top. In behind the desk were large metal file cabinets acting as a wall for the office space. Almost out of numbers, Calla hurried back to Nick and slumped against the door.

  “You there?” Calla asked.

  “Yes.” Nick’s voice jarred her after the silence. “That was close.”

  “I found a desk, but I haven’t searched it yet.” Calla informed him.

  “Good. Anything you think I might pick the lock with from this side you can slip under the door, Calla.” Nick told her. “A count of one hundred again.”

  “It will be hard with my hands tied behind my back.” Calla told him. He must be talented at picking locks if he can do it all tied up.

  “Are your hands still tied behind your back? How the fuck did you get out and I’m still in here.” She heard him sigh. “I will fix one problem. Get down on your ass. Lie on your side. With a little wriggling you should be able to get your hands under your ass. The rest is easy.” He instructed.

  “Don’t I have to pull my arms out of the sockets like Houdini for this?” Calla’s alarm coloured her voice.

  “No.” Nick stifled a laugh. “But it’ll wrench your joints hard. Your arms should flex enough from all those scenes you do with Flynn.”

  The reality of having her arms in front
of her was appealing. Aside from everything else, if she fell, her knees wouldn’t take the whole of her weight. The only problem was her wrist had already swollen up enough to fill any space in the ties. The bones fractured and this would hurt like hell.

  “OK.” Calla got down on her knees, experienced the sting of her flesh meeting the cold concrete. She did her best she rolled over onto her side, her head hit the concrete despite her best efforts, but she registered the pain. “I’m on my side.”

  “Good girl.” Nick praised. “Now move your hands down as far as they will go. You want to work them over your ass Calla. After that, you’re done.” Calla gritted her teeth. Her broken wrist was a fire of agony and bile rose in her throat choking her. She turned her head to the side and coughed, doing her best to keep wriggling her wrists underneath her.

  “What’s happening, Calla? It shouldn’t hurt that much.” Nick’s concern came through the door. Calla couldn’t respond. If she did, the cry lodged in the back of her throat would emerge. Instead, she bit the inside her cheek and did her best to keep going.

  It happened all at once as luck would have it. Her wrists slipped under her ass. Her wrist cracked and flopped over. But she could brace her forearms on the concrete and retch up the contents of her stomach.

  “Done.” She got out between sobs.

  “Good girl.” Nick sounded anxious. “Are you able to get up? Go back to the desk?”

  “Yes. But I need a minute.” Calla did her best to collect her thoughts. She hadn’t panicked or become overwhelmed. Maybe she was becoming accustomed to these crisis situations.

  “I want to tell you to take all the time you need, Calla.” Nick’s muffled voice worried. “But I can’t. I need you to get up and save my ass. Again.” He reminded her of when she had slowed the bleeding to his near fatal wounds last spring.

  Calla pushed onto her knees. “I’m up.” She informed him.

  “Good. Count to one hundred. Get your ass back here.” Nick ordered.

  “You’re sounding increasingly like Dom material every minute.” Calla threw back.

  “If that’s what it takes.” He answered back.

  “One, two three.” Calla counted out loud taking several steps away from him. Before she switched to counting in her head. With her hands out front, Calla was confident enough to move faster down the hall. She strained her ears for any little noises giving away predators and inspected around the desk area before approaching. There had to be something in here to help them escape.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You have no rights at this precise moment, Mr Banroch.” Mr Asshole informed him. “And we appreciate you’re waiting for Linkin’s mercenaries to come in here and rescue you. We’re waiting for that too.”

  “I want to see Calla. You bring her here right now.” Flynn stood up from his chair.

  “Sit down and listen to the rest of what I have to say.” Mr Asshole didn’t flinch.

  “Are you behind a serial killer hunting girls in downtown Vancouver?” Flynn demanded. Soldiers shoved him back into his chair.

  “Again, regrettable.” Mr Asshole’s gaze flicked to Melanie in a revealing instant.

  “Fuck.” Flynn wriggled against his bonds.

  “Precisely.” Mr Asshole said. “Now we can get down to business. We need Banroch Enterprises to buy the Enbridge pipeline from the Federal Government. You will do so at an inflated price ensuring there is a big enough profit for the purchase and sale to be considered a success.”

  “I’ll tell you what I told Enbridge. Fuck right off.” Flynn enucleated each word. “The pipeline in a fucking money pit. It would cost a billion dollars to revamp it to where it would be serviceable.”

  “When you buy the pipeline the prosecutor’s office will drop the charges against you.” Mr Asshole assured Flynn.

  “They are being dropped right now Asshole. You have nothing on me.” Flynn sat back in his chair. “You’ve got no fucking leverage.”

  “We have plenty of evidence to suggest you financed the rescue of Detective Thea Demopoulos. A rescue that used military grade weapons and personnel on Canadian soil. Mr Pearce’s interrogation is happening now. He will spill his guts. And when his band of merry men come to rescue you, we’ll have even more proof the two of you are operating a terrorist cell within Canada. You’ll all face treason charges. The only spankings you’ll enjoy are ones from your cell mates.” Mr Asshole appeared very pleased with himself. “The US has Gitmo, but it would be a mistake to conclude Canada doesn’t have a shit hole somewhere waiting for you. We like to keep our shit secret.”

  Hatred burned in Flynn’s gut. He wanted to tear the head off the guy in front of him. And when he left this warehouse with Calla, Nick and Linkin he would make it his life’s mission to do so. Now he kept his cool. It was what he did as a CEO and as a Dom.

  “Why did you buy the pipeline in the first place?” Flynn asked. “You owe me some fucking answers.”

  “A mistake. When Banroch passed on the pipeline, Enbridge needed to offload it. They were haemorrhaging millions of dollars. The sale staved off a bankruptcy.” Mr Asshole responded.

  “And why were hard earned Canadian tax dollars used to buy something from an ailing company?” Flynn’s head was turning through the new information, looking for answers.

  “The government invests tax dollars. You realize this. They are heavily invested in Enbridge as a part of their investment portfolio. It’s was in their best interests to save the company.” Mr Asshole explained.

  “I want to learn how the Reverend comes into all of this.” Flynn demanded.

  “My old handler approached me with a deal.” Melanie spoke. “I’m the most important expert on you who would speak to the government. They asked for my advice.” She shrugged. “The whole thing with Dillon Ross and The Supplicants of the Lord Church was happening. I told them to capitalise on the chaos that they had already been created. It’s not my fault they ended up funding a serial killer.”

  “And you cleaned up your own mess.” Flynn accused. “After we rescued Thea. You tracked the Reverend down. The irony is that there is a price on Linkin Pearce’s head because you accused him of something you did.”

  “Not to worry, we will make reparations to Mr Pearce as long as he complies with our wishes.” Mr Asshole assures Flynn.

  “I hope he tells you to shove them up your ass.” Flynn said back in an uncharacteristic show of anger.

  “Mr Pearce will do not such a thing.” Mr Asshole shook his head in mock sadness. “He’s over the same barrel as you.”

  “None of this explains why you chose me.” Flynn stated. “You might have used many companies CEO’s. You must have leverage on others.”

  “Yes, but watching your fall has been most entertaining. Sexual deviancy, corporate fraud and espionage coupled with treason. You are the gift that keeps on giving, Mr Bancroft.” Mr Asshole recited.

  “Except I’m not guilty of these things.” Flynn stared around the warehouse. He couldn’t speak for Linkin. But he knew even if they were water boarding him, Linkin would never give in to their demands. And neither would Flynn. He would have to let Calla go this time. No hovering in the shadows to keep her safe. An actual clean break. “And I will not agree to any of your terms. As of tonight, Prosecutor Alwen will be in contempt of court. She’ll have no choice but to drop her charges. The treason thing is ridiculous and I’ll fucking fight it with my every penny. As for being a pervert. There are worse things in life.”

  “Again. Mr Banroch, you think you’ve got choices. There is no choice here. If you do not agree, your brother will.” Mr Asshole nodded to someone behind Flynn. “You will not see Dr Jones or anyone else until you either agree to our terms, or your brother does. I want you to think about what he’ll do while you wait in a cell.”

  “You always had a hero complex Flynn.” Melanie spoke up. “Just agree to their terms. You’ve saved Banroch before, you will again.”

  “Go crawl back under the rock f
rom which you came.” Flynn barked at her as hands came out to pull him up. “And I’m not agreeing to anything and neither will Arthur. When I get out of this warehouse, Asshole, I will learn your real name in under thirty seconds.”

  &

  Calla picked up the penknife with her good hand. The one with the broken wrist didn’t seem to want to move at all anymore. She opened and closed as many drawers as possible. She found an old taser gun. They were illegal in Canada, but it looked like this one was old enough to be an original. She tucked the taser into the waist of her skirt and clutched various items she might slip under the door to Nick.

  Men’s voices speaking to one another in low tones caught her attention. With nowhere else to hide, she dove under the desk and tried to make herself as small as possible. Her count was coming to an end and Nick would worry they had captured her. The men’s conversation grew louder. They discussed a hockey game occurring tonight that they were missing.

  It didn’t sound like hardened mercenaries. Not that she knew any other than Linkin, Nick and maybe Joe. Perhaps she knew a few more than she thought. The men voice grew quieter as they walked farther away from the desk. Calla’s heart already beating out of her chest, she weighed her options.

  On the one hand, she had gotten stuff that could free Nick. But those men might have been on their way to check her cell and his. What would they do when they found her missing? There was nothing she could do about it. Calla counted to fifty. When no alarms sounded with people rushing around to find her, Calla assumed whatever the two men had been doing had nothing to do with her.

  She peeked over the top of the desk, Calla surveyed everything. It didn’t sound like there was anyone around. She crept on light feet out from under the table; thankful her bound hands were in front of her now. The hallway was just as she left it and Calla did her best not to break out into a run as she made her way back to Nick. Her feet slapping against the concrete would alert everyone she was out.