GUARDIANS: Mission To Rescue Innocence (Beauty 0f Life Book 7)

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GUARDIANS: Mission To Rescue Innocence (Beauty 0f Life Book 7) Page 10

by Laura Acton


  Anastasia decided she must determine the cause of the heightened anxiety exhibited by all. With her role, she would be the one closest to Blondie. If she could, she would help. She only needed to understand the situation and what caused Blondie’s unit buddies to be edgy.

  She leaned forward and placed a hand on Ripsaw’s knee acquiring his attention. Ripsaw grinned at her, and she gave him a sincere smile in return. Barely above a whisper, she said. “Tell me why everyone is on edge. Why did you all stand and block my view of Dan when he changed?”

  Ripsaw put his hand on hers. “Not for me to tell.”

  She took a deep breath and released it gradually. “I must know if I’m going to play my role properly.”

  Shaking his head, Ripsaw remained quiet. He couldn’t tell Anastasia. On the surface, she appeared pleasant, but he would never betray Blondie and disclose his vulnerability.

  Anastasia leaned back in her chair. Ripsaw’s reaction spoke volumes. Given the unit’s level of apprehension and protectiveness towards Blondie, the source must be serious. She wished she knew more about them.

  Her gaze slipped back to Dan. She would approach Blondie to discover the issue, but here and now was not the place. After they arrived at the hotel and could converse in private would be better timing. Anastasia hoped he would open up to her.

  With her plan decided, Anastasia relaxed. They would be touching down soon, and she must shift her mind into the persona of the ditzy blonde. She permitted the analytical side of her rest as she closed her eyes. Despite whatever currently agitated Blondie she would trust this unit to resolve any problems as needed to achieve a successful outcome.

  Twenty minutes later, Mike informed them, “Buckle up. Almost show time. We’ll be landing in about ten minutes.”

  Let the Games Begin

  11

  May 27

  Makhachkala – Anzhi-Qala Resort – Lobby – 0345 Hours

  Dan stood in the lobby of Makhachkala’s newest luxury resort, as Anastasia draped herself on him. She played her role as his ditzy girlfriend exceptionally well as she continued to ooh and ah over the interior. His expression mimicked Maks’ dispassionate, idle rich one. The pretentious confidence conveyed by his strut belied hidden tension coiled in his body.

  As they disembarked the jet in a private hanger, Blaze instructed him to flash cash at the customs agents and to listen to anything Mike might tell him. He only nodded as they strode towards customs. The money worked, and they went through customs without trouble and climbed into an awaiting limo.

  The forty-minute commute to Anzhi-Qala Resort occurred in silence until their destination came into sight. Mike handed Dan sunglasses and instructed him to wear them and allow his entourage to transact all business because service people were beneath his notice. Dan complied but thought donning sunglasses in the dark wee hours of the morning was odd.

  Blaze strode to the receptionist and spoke the Russian phrase he practiced with Blondie. “Reservation for Maksim Gennadiyevich Ivanov.”

  The clerk eagerly gaped at Maks. He looked exactly like the photos in the tabloids. Her heart fluttered. Oh God, Maks is standing in my lobby. She smiled and pulled up the reservation. She noted the bill had been paid in advance and she retrieved keycards for their four finest rooms.

  She handed the intimidating yet handsome, black-haired man the keys. The two security men standing near Maks, one gigantic and one smaller in stature, appeared less unapproachable than the one at her desk. She frowned with jealousy at the leggy, blonde woman hanging onto Maks, wishing it could be her instead. She paid no attention to the other four men carrying luggage.

  “Enjoy your visit at Makhachkala’s glistening pearl. Call if Maks needs anything at all and I’ll come right up,” the woman rattled off in Russian as her eyes went back to Maks, gazing at the handsome, wealthy man and daydreaming what it would be like to marry him and jet around the world. She sighed.

  Unsure of what she said, Blaze simply took the keycards and nodded. Using a quick glance to follow where her eyes went, he noted Blondie moving towards the elevators and figured her words bespoke of a typical response from a receptionist, perhaps to enjoy their stay.

  All nine crowded into the lift, and no one spoke. They would maintain silence until after completing a sweep for electronics in their rooms and setting up jammers to prevent anyone from listening to their conversations. Exiting on the top floor, they strode towards room fifteen hundred. The fifteenth floor was reserved for affluent guests who paid exorbitant prices and contained only six guest rooms, of which, the unit secured four.

  Anzhi-Qala Resort – Luxury Suite – 0355 Hours

  Arriving at the room Blondie and Anastasia would share and double as their command center, Mason entered taking point followed by Ripsaw. They cleared the spacious sitting area, separate bedroom, and lavish bathroom before motioning to the others to join them.

  Winds began opening luggage and pulling out equipment, handing scanners to Brody and Patch and keeping one for himself. The guys set about securing the suite. Once they determined the place to be free of listening gadgets and cameras, Winds set up the jamming device.

  They gathered close, and Blaze checked the time. “We’ve had a long day. It’s zero four ten and Mike and I need to leave soon if we’re going to meet Dom on time to arrange transportation and other gear. Ripsaw you stay here with Anastasia and Blondie. Mason, Patch, Winds, and Brody you secure the remaining rooms.”

  “Blaze, how about a red Corvette?” Dan winked at Brody.

  “And why do you want a Vette?” Blaze laughed.

  Dan shrugged as a lopsided grin appeared. “Brody always wanted to drive one. Seems like a grand opportunity. Yellow would be okay too.”

  Noting the smile transformed Blondie’s face, giving him a boyish quality, Anastasia made an obvious comment, “You do realize only two people fit in a Corvette. Where is your girlfriend supposed to sit?”

  Dan was about to answer when Brody quipped, “In his lap. Right, Maks?”

  As everyone chuckled, Blaze said, “No promises. Dom is in charge of arranging transportation. Though, it might be flashy if you go in solo to establish your cover.”

  Blaze noted the weary deportment of his men and gave out additional orders. “Once all rooms are secure, grab some shut-eye. We begin our op tonight. Blondie if you need anything to help with that, talk to Patch. You must be on top of your game, and you can’t do that if you’re half asleep. We will meet back here at sixteen hundred.”

  Anastasia’s curiosity grew. Why would Dan need a sleeping aid? She caught the pointed look Patch gave Dan and Dan’s slight, almost imperceptible nod in return. A non-verbal conversation occurred between them, though, about what, Anastasia had no clue. As the men attended to their tasks, she turned to the luggage and set about unpacking the few clothes allocated for her cover. “This resort lives up to its name, definitely a pearl fortress.”

  “Is that what Anzhi-Qala translates to?” Ripsaw asked as he strode over to the minibar and pulled out water for Blondie and himself.

  “Yes. Before Peter the Great arrived in seventeen twenty-two the local Kumyks called this region Anzhi-Qala. However, that is not a Russian term. In the Kumyk language, anzhi means pearl and qala means fortress.”

  Intrigued by the fact Anastasia spoke at least four languages, Ripsaw only nodded and took a sip. He handed a bottle to Blondie after the kid finished hanging clothing in the armoire. “Drink up. Do you want me to get Patch?”

  Dan took the bottle, downing half, needing to flush his system of the alcohol he consumed last night. “No, I’ll try on my own first.”

  “Okay but don’t leave it too long before asking or Blaze will be all over your ass. I got watch. You get yourself to bed.”

  Dan glanced around the bedroom. “Anastasia, you take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “That bed is huge. Enough room for both of us. I don’t bite,” Anastasia teased. As soon as she spoke, Blondie tensed. Goodnes
s, he must be shy around women to stress about sleeping in the same bed. She gently laid a hand on his upper arm. “It’s only sleeping. The mattress will be more comfortable.” Rapidly identifying a way to make this easier for him, she said. “Besides, I must arrange for food to be sent up to the team. I gather you and I are the only ones who speak Russian, and as Maks, ordering food isn’t something you would do.”

  Ripsaw liked how Anastasia picked up on Blondie’s discomfort. “Mike speaks Russian too. That is why he went with Blaze to meet our contact, but you’re right. It would be best if we order food. I’ll escort you down. Blondie, the guys are in fifteen o one, two, and four, in case you need them.”

  Dan nodded. “Okay.” As they left, Dan slipped out of the jacket and hung it up. The suit’s price tag rivaled the cost of the shoes he kicked off, both too expensive. He undid his slacks, let them drop, then retrieved them and neatly folded them over a hanger. Next, he loosened and yanked off the tie, then laid it on the bureau. Unbuttoning the silk shirt, he went to gaze out the window.

  The five-star resort sat on the shore of the Caspian Sea. Viewing a portion of the illuminated beach sent a small shiver through Dan. Deep bodies of water terrified him ever since the hazing incident where he drowned. He turned away from the unsettling sight, only to face another one … the king-sized bed.

  “What the hell are you going to do? Some sinner you are … you can’t even undress in front of a woman. How am I supposed pull this off … to exhibit satyriasis like Maks?” Dan spat out angrily, venting his fears.

  He strode to the mirror, paralyzed like Narcissus, he glared at his reflected image. A multitude of thin pink and white lines covered his chest and the circular pigmentation changes from too many burning hot needles littered his stomach. My torso is ugly, no wonder Julie recoiled from me. Dan knew his back was in worse condition. He refused to look … didn’t need to … he recalled each painful stripe. Dark voices started to whisper to him.

  “NO!” Dan yelled at his likeness. “No. I will not listen to you. You will not win. Every day I live is a fuck you to you sadistic bastards! I won’t let you win.” Dan turned away from his image, ambling to the closet. After hanging up the dress shirt, he wrestled a t-shirt over his head as he moved to the bed.

  He used to be comfortable sleeping nude, but boxers and a shirt would be mandatory since he was sharing this room with Anastasia. He didn’t understand why they must bunk together since they only needed to appear to be a couple in the nightclubs. He would’ve preferred to share with Brody.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, Dan crawled into the soft bed and pulled the covers over his head. Using his training, he forced himself to relax. Two girls depended on him. He would not fail them like he failed Sara. Emotionally and physically exhausted, Dan swiftly dropped into a deep sleep.

  Patch silently slipped into Blondie’s room to check on him. Before Ripsaw escorted Anastasia downstairs, he stopped to ask one of the guys to stay with Blondie. Patch offered in case Blondie needed him. He smiled finding Blondie already sound asleep.

  After setting analgesics on the bedside table with a bottle of water, he lowered himself into a chair. Observing Blondie sleep became a routine piece of his life in the last four months. Blondie’s resilience still amazed him. Most men would’ve never been able to recover from what Blondie endured for three months … ungodly brutal torture. Blondie passed his requals, but he still experienced aching feet and his back spasmed on occasion. Dr. Pastore explained the discomfort might take up to a year to go away entirely, and prescribed medication to ensure Blondie stayed on top of the pain.

  Easier said than done. Blondie hated taking medication of any sort, but painkillers most of all. So Patch made it his personal mission to keep Blondie pain-free. And after all Blondie’s physical activity from yesterday’s requal, he would surely be sore today.

  He turned an assessing eye on the kid, still taken aback by how young he always appeared when sleeping. His little brother experienced more pain in his short life than most would in a lifetime. Blondie was on his feet all day and ran ten miles with a loaded pack as part of the evaluation. The obstacle course Blondie breezed through, but the sparring session with Murphy was a bit intense. Recalling how Blondie served up his own ice-cold revenge on Murphy for stealing his wheelchair months ago, Patch’s grin grew.

  Thinking about last night his grin faded. It was supposed to be a fun celebration of Brody’s birthday and Blondie’s return to active duty. Julie should be flogged for the way she treated the kid. Blondie’s body bore the scars of all the physical wounds caused by needles and whips, but those were not the only injuries inflicted. Wounds of the psyche would leave invisible scars. Unfortunately, emotional wounds didn’t heal as quickly as physical ones.

  A touch of anger became evident in his expression as Patch thought about this mission. As they boarded the plane, he asked if Blondie needed for him to declare him unfit. He would’ve in a heartbeat, but Blondie said, “I’m fine, but I can do my job. You can count on me to cover your six.”

  He permitted Blondie board, but now he wished he had not. When Blaze briefed them his gut clenched. None of them would’ve guessed in a million years Blondie’s role would be anything other than sniper and tactics. For him to be the primary, the one with the full weight of the operation on his shoulders, felled Patch like a sucker-punch to the solar plexus.

  If this went south and those girls died, or they ended up in a Russian prison, Patch recognized Blondie would blame himself … regardless of the cause. Hell, Blondie still felt responsible for Gambit’s and Robbie’s deaths. Both deaths were out of everyone’s control, but nothing any of them said changed his mind. Blondie insisted he should’ve run faster and been the one on point.

  Exhausted, Patch nodded off in the chair. The sound of an opening door and voices woke him. He glanced at Blondie who thankfully still slept. Hurrying to the main room, he informed Ripsaw and Anastasia to be quiet.

  Anastasia greeted Patch. “Did he need anything to fall asleep?”

  “No. Out like a light when I arrived. It’s nearly five. What took so long?”

  “We had a devil of a time finding someone to take the order, but food will be sent up in about three hours for those who have activities which must be completed during the day.” A slight grin formed as Ripsaw glanced into the bedroom. Anastasia’s ploy worked. Though to be honest, the kid must’ve been exhausted after yesterday. He needed sleep to be ready for tonight.

  As he reached for the doorknob, Patch said, “Left pills for Blondie on the nightstand. If he refuses to take them when he wakes call Brody or me.”

  “Will do.” Ripsaw eyed the couch, admitting to himself he was dog-tired. More comfortable than some of the places I have slept.

  Cherry Club – Basement – 5:00 a.m.

  Unable to sleep, eleven-year-old Anna-Marie Savoy and thirteen-year-old Nicolette Savoy huddled in the corner of the damp, cold basement. They sat on a bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Nicolette pulled the single blanket over both of them ensuring Anna retained more of the cover. Being the big sister, Nicolette needed to take care of Anna.

  They had been locked in here for days. Menacing figures wearing red shirts and carrying guns came every so often and checked on them. She tried the door several times, but it remained locked. Even if they could get out, Nicolette had no idea where to go because she was sure they were no longer in France.

  Several days ago, while walking home from school, laughing and making plans to go shopping on the weekend, a black van pulled up, and a man seized Anna. Nicolette shrieked at him to let her go, but another man grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth. Alone on their street, Nicolette realized no one witnessed their kidnapping. Once she and Anna were pulled into the van, the men stuck needles in each of them.

  Unsure of what happened afterward, she woke to find herself and her sister on a private plane with their kidnappers. After they landed, the scary men shoved them into metal trunks an
d drugged them again and when they woke next, they were in this room. When their captors came in to feed them, she listened carefully trying to figure out who took them and where they were, but they spoke a language she didn’t comprehend.

  Both she and Anna-Marie loved learning languages and enjoyed practicing Spanish and English at home. Next year Papa would start Italian lessons. A tear slipped out as she stifled a cry. If we’re still alive. Nicolette brushed away her tear. It would not do for Anna to spot her crying. She must put on an bold face so her little sister would be less terrified.

  “Nikki, pensez-vous qu’ils vont nous nourrir aujourd’hui? J’ai tellement faim,” Anna-Marie said in a frightened voice.

  With a two-fold purpose in mind, having observed none of their abductors appeared to speak English and to assuage her sister’s fearful mind, Nicolette said, “Let play Papa’s game and pretend we need to converse secretly and practice our English.”

  Anna-Marie thought for a moment and translated her previous words. “Nikki, do you think they are going to feed us today? I am so hungry.”

  “I do not know, but we are going to be alright. Papa is coming for us. He will find us. We must remain brave.” Nicolette pulled her sister closer.

  “I am trying to be brave, but I am afraid. I want Mama.”

  “Papa and Mama would be proud of your courage. Papa will be here soon,” Nicolette soothed. Papa, save us. We want to go home.

  Lezha Kafe Cheloveka – 0500 Hours

  Taking an indirect route on foot to survey the surrounding area, Blaze and Mike approached the restaurant where they would meet Dom. Glancing at the signage, Blaze inquired in a muted tone, “Translation?”

  Mike grinned. “Lying Man’s Café.”

  “Fitting.” Blaze chuckled and pulled his ball cap low covering most of his face as they entered. After scanning the interior, Blaze chose a table in the back which afforded him visibility of the entrance and into the kitchen. The half-empty cafe would be filling up with customers soon.

 

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