He didn’t have to tell her again. She set the gun to one side and dragged one of the flimsy metal beds out of the way. While she did that, her heart tried to find an escape route from her chest.
Although he spoke to her twice, Aziza could scarcely believe Ryan stood outside. She could not conceive how it was possible that he was here in Durabia, but she didn’t care. All she knew was that she needed the safety of his arms. The fact that she was wearing the same housecoat for days should have mattered, plus she hadn’t showered in nearly a week.
None of that meant anything.
All she wanted was to be reunited with the man she loved.
Working together, the women cleared the doorway and Aziza pulled back the latch to fly the door open. It didn’t budge.
Aziza groaned as her shoulders drooped. The rumble of disappointment spread behind her.
“It won’t open,” she yelled.
“Don’t worry,” Ryan said, “We’ve got you. Stand back from the door.”
“You got it.”
When all of them were out of range, Aziza kept hold of the AK-47 for some measure of safety. “You can come in now.”
“Cover your ears,” Ryan instructed.
The explosion was loud but meant little to Aziza because it would free her from the horror that escalated in the last fourteen hours.
This time, when the hinges creaked and one of them sagged, excitement flooded Aziza’s body and soul. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to stay grounded.
A muscular, blond man invaded the container with a gun in his hand. One corner of his mouth tipped into a wry smile. “It’s clear in here, except for the woman with the AK-47.” He looked her in the eyes. “I’m Nicco. Permission to approach?”
When she nodded, he crossed the cement floor, gently took the rifle from her hands and nodded—a gesture of respect. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome and thank you, too.”
Kelsie reluctantly handed him Abdul’s gun.
Over the Nicco’s shoulder, she glimpsed Ryan. They stared at each other as he approached. She didn’t dare blink, in case he was an illusion conjured by her tired brain.
When his arms closed around her, a sob worked its way up from her throat, and she buried her face in his chest. After inhaling as much of him as she could in several breaths, she cried, “They took the children, Ryan. Four little girls—you need to find all of them.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sex slaves.
Ryan’s stomach turned over at the scene before him. The reality of it stole his breath, same as the pictures of the women murdered for their organs.
An array of adolescent females sat on several cots the men had arranged outside the container. The hope that lit the girls’ and women’s eyes far outshone their condition. When they realized they were free, they spilled outside. They blinked as the sun shimmered on the traces of dew that lingered on the blades of grass and weeds that sprouted in patches around their makeshift prison.
The police had arrived, but didn’t seem overly interested in the women. Abdul and Hamid were escorted to the hospital under police guard. The Sheikh’s nephew, Hassan, and one other envoy also traveled with them to ensure the men didn’t disappear, or were released on bail before Vikkas could bring charges against them that would stick.
Ryan’s gaze left the women and returned to the surrounding group, which included two high-ranking police officers, Daron, Dro, Nicco, Bashir, and Angela.
“This isn’t finished,” Ryan said while the policemen shuffled their feet, as if eager to be on their way. “What’s the process for dealing with these women?”
The officers exchanged a perplexed look, then the one wearing a comb-over cleared his throat. “We have to question them and find housing, which might be difficult.”
“Why should that be a problem?” Angela asked, frowning. “It’s clear that a crime has been committed against these women. It’s the state’s responsibility to provide accommodation until they have somewhere to go.”
“This isn’t America.” Nicco’s tone was gruff. “And these two don’t seem ready or willing to deal with this situation.”
The uniformed men hemmed and hawed but didn’t propose any feasible course of action.
Dro eased out his phone, speed-dialed, and put it to his ear. “I’ll get on the line with Sheikh Kamran. He and the Sheikha will come up with something. “
“This is right up their street,” Daron said. “They have a facility that should be able to accommodate at least some of the women.”
An uneasy glance passed between the policemen. “We will contact our headquarters and see how we can work with you to resolve this problem.”
“You had your chance,” Daron said, and waved at them in a dismissive gesture. “We’ve got this.”
A sour smile came to Ryan’s lips. The world over, some people only bowed to affluence and influence. This should not be the case in a sensitive situation like this one. All the same, some kind of response was better than no response from the authorities.
His gaze drifted to Aziza. More than anything, he wanted to wrap himself around her and never let her out of his sight. She was in conversation with the Senegalese woman who sat on one side, while her arm rested over the shoulder of a young Indian girl.
Aside from bruising around Aziza’s jaw, she didn’t seem injured. He grinned at the thought of her holding the guards captive. He’d forgotten there was a whole other side to the woman he loved. Drake and he had rolled their eyes at her persistence, but included her in the self-defense moves they had learned during those long summer months in Evanston. Who knew that stuff would come in helpful years later? He couldn’t wait to get the four-one-one on everything that happened since she disappeared, but that would be much later, when they were alone.
The last twelve hours had flown by in a blur of activity and more than anything else, he needed that down-time with his woman. When they finally got back to the hotel … his thoughts strayed to the police officers.
I am a member of the security forces.
The man in his room was the same one who interrupted their meeting at the police headquarters with the Commissioner and his assistant. He said as much to Dro.
“I wonder how many more pieces of this puzzle are still missing, Seems like no sooner do we have a handle on one thing another pops up, like the guy in my room.”
“We’ll have answers soon enough,” Dro said. “The room attendant checked out, but Daron placed a bug in the housekeeping department to keep an eye and ear on things. Just in case.”
Ryan nodded and swallowed a yawn. He was dead tired. Earlier, he was shaken to his core to see the actual result of a wholesale trafficking operation. Modern day slavery. How many women had been taken and never saw their family again? How long had this ring been in existence, and why didn’t the police pay more attention to what was a growing problem?
After Daron spoke to Sheik Kamran, Sheikha Ellena sent a team of medical personnel to do preliminary checks on the rescued group. Bashir proved helpful with crossing the language barrier on both sides.
Jai had a team of doctors, nurses, and mental health professionals, including Blair Ali Khan, Chaz Maharaj and Ahmad Maharaj waiting at his medical facility.
Aziza’s gaze clung to his, and Ryan gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He wanted the business end of things wrapped up within the next twenty minutes. He could almost believe they had been standing around for half a day as the early morning chill dissipated and the sun gained ascendancy.
As if God heard his unspoken prayer, two passenger vehicles trundled over the sand toward them. Two men climbed out of each van. After greeting them, one driver announced, “His Royal Highness, Sheikh Kamran Ali Khan and Sheikha Ellena sent us to pick up the passengers.”
Ryan walked away and held out his hand to Aziza. She held on to his fingers, then allowed him to slip one arm around her. “You’re coming with me,” he said.
Aziza incl
ined her head toward the others. “Where are they going?”
“The Sheikh’s wife has a facility where they can stay.” He touched her jaw. “At this point, I’m not sure I’ll ever let you out of my sight again. Ever.”
Laying both hands on his chest, Aziza murmured, “I’d love to travel with you, but it’s better if I stay with them. For now.”
As if the little girl sensed a separation was coming, she hurried to where Aziza stood and grabbed a handful of her dress. One by one, the women came to stand with Aziza and the child.
From his position next to Aziza, Ryan looked deep into her eyes. This woman had so much more to her personality than he knew or appreciated. Adversity had a way of bringing out the best and worst in people. Although she could have had the advantage of travelling with him in privacy and comfort, she chose to remain with the others.
Ryan pressed his lips to her forehead. “As long as I know you’re safe, I’ll be all right.”
He clasped her hand, and after a few seconds she tugged at him. A mischievous light shone from her eyes. “Though we’re not dressed for polite company, and might smell a little ripe, I’m sure it would be okay if you ride with us.”
Ryan grinned back at her. “That’s the best invitation I’ve had all day.”
Chapter Eighteen
Aziza couldn’t stop touching Ryan. As soon as her hands rested in her lap, one of them strayed to settle on his thigh. When he squeezed her hand, she gave up pretending. She’d never been a clinging vine, hanging on to her man, but after the experiences of the past week, she was under no illusion about her need for this man. His solid presence was a constant reminder that her ordeal was over, that she was safe. Sighing, she leaned her head on his shoulder.
She was the last of the fifteen women to undergo an examination because she couldn’t tear herself away from him. And as sour as she was after days of not showering, Ryan hadn’t left her side. Now that was some straight up love right there.
Aziza had just finished talking with her mother in a tearful reunion on his cell phone when a nurse called her name and beckoned her forward.
Ryan rose with her and went as far as the door of the examination room.
The female doctor introduced herself, then conducted a thorough exam which took some time. Earlier, a nurse collected blood and a urine sample for testing. While the doctor gently poked and prodded Aziza, her gaze swept around the high-tech, silver-and-grey facility. Keeping her mind occupied meant ignoring the silly tears that sprang to her eyes for no good reason.
After allowing her to pull on a clean hospital gown and step into a pair of slippers, the motherly woman said, “I don’t see any signs of sexual activity. Does that mean you were not molested?”
“Thank God, no.” Aziza said, then sighed on remembering ten-year-old Sunita.
Her story was enough to make an adult weep. How a man could find a prepubescent child attractive was a mystery to Aziza. Sunita was still a baby and needed protection.
“I know about patient confidentiality and all that, but the little girl you examined just before me, will she be okay? Physically, I mean. I only ask because I’ve been taking care of her.”
She stared at Aziza, then her lips twisted. “I will tell you because it’s clear to me that you are concerned … in a good way. She has been sexually molested, but seems to be healthy. The tests will say for certain.”
“Thank you,” Aziza whispered. “I appreciate you for telling me.”
The doctor nodded. “I am a mother, so I understand how you feel. Take care of her.”
Nodding, Aziza said, “I will.”
On her return to the secure waiting area designated for the group, Aziza sat next to the girl, who slipped her hand into hers. Her stringy hair and sad, yet hopeful eyes made Aziza want to do whatever it would take to bring a smile to her face.
Close to the doorway, the woman Ryan introduced as Angela stood with her back facing them. She wore the same combat gear as the men and was part of a conversation taking place outside the room. Every so often, she looked over her shoulder as if to reassure herself they were all right.
When she stepped out of the doorway, two women walked inside. One of them was a tall, Black woman with a low Afro and the other was a tiny, Asian woman.
Angela, though fierce in all black, wore a warm smile. “Ladies, meet Rae.” She pointed to the African-American female. “And this is Linda. These ladies will take care of you.”
Instead of being excited, the newly released women huddled closer together on the benches, the soup in their hands forgotten.
Rae and Linda shared a glance, then Rae addressed them with both hands open. “Our circumstances may be different, but we, too, have had our challenges. I know it’s hard to trust anybody right now, but you’ll see that we are here to help. Nothing else.”
Linda nodded, then waved toward the door. “If you can’t trust us, let me reassure you that you can trust this lady right here.”
A stately woman wearing cream linen walked into the room. Her honey-gold skin glowed with good health and her serene smile encouraged confidence. She nodded to acknowledge Rae and Linda, then addressed the disheveled group. “I’m Amanda Maharaj, and you will be my guests for the next few days while we come up with a plan. In that time, you can decide if you wish to return home or remain in Durabia.”
She clasped both hands in front of her and continued, “We know you’ve been through a lot, but bear with us. Now, it’s time for us to transport you to your accommodations.”
They breathed a collective sigh, then got to their feet, but Sunita stayed next to Aziza and gripped her hand tighter. Giving the child a reassuring smile, Aziza murmured, “Don’t worry. You’ll be all right.”
Ryan appeared in the doorway, followed by Daron and Dro, whom he’d introduced earlier. He explained that they were Kings of the Castle, brothers to Shaz. The mention of Shaz’s name was enough for Aziza. The men now stood against the wall as the women filed out of the holding area.
Brothers? They must all come from different mothers.
Sunita didn’t leave Aziza’s side. In front of them, the small Asian woman waited patiently while Aziza cupped Sunita’s cheek and looked her in the eyes. “I know you don’t want to go, but I’ll come and see you later in the day, okay?”
She stared back at Aziza for a few seconds before nodding. Still, she didn’t get to her feet.
As Ryan approached, an idea came to Aziza. She held out a hand to him.”D’you have paper and a pen?”
“Sure.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from the protective vest he wore. He made a seam and tore off the bottom edge of the notepaper. Then he removed a pen from one of the leg pockets in his pants and held both toward her.
“Are you using the same telephone number here?” Aziza asked.
“Yeah, but—”
Aziza scribbled his contact information and wrote both their names. “I’m giving it to Sunita, so she can call me.” She smiled at the little girl. “Is that okay, baby?”
She nodded, and her eyes sparkled.
Aziza tapped her under the chin and gave her the paper. “See you in a while, okay?”
Sunita released her and left with Linda.
When she was out of sight, Aziza rested against the wall and let out her breath.
“You okay?” Ryan asked, sitting next to her.
“I’m right as rain, but need a bed, a shower, and maybe a little shut-eye.”
“That doesn’t sound too hard.” Ryan stood and helped her up by the elbow. His fingers surrounded her arm as a prolonged wail cut through the air.
“What the hell?” Ryan propelled her forward with him, and they rushed to the doorway.
A solid force knocked the air out of Aziza, who instinctively put out her arms and encircled the human dynamo that crashed into her stomach.
Sunita sobbed with her face buried in Aziza’s dress and squeezed her tight. “What’s the matter?” she asked, alarmed. She stroked Sunita’s
hair while her heart beat at the pace of runaway racehorse.
Linda frowned as she rushed up to them. “I’m not sure what just happened—”
“I think I do,” Ryan said, as he sped through the entrance of the health center.
Chapter Nineteen
The doctor’s flapping coattail directed Ryan to the corner of the building where he disappeared.
Ryan increased his pace, sprinting down the pathway behind the man, who looked to be half his height. Footsteps beat a path behind him, and he figured Daron and Dro were on their trail. They had been standing outside the building with the women when Sunita cried out. He hated to think about what her distress meant, but he already knew.
The man rounded the corner.
Ryan followed, lengthened his stride, and tackled the runner.
“Uggghhhh.”
They landed on the ground, and the doctor struggled to get from under Ryan’s weight. He spoke in his ear. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop wriggling around. Now.”
As soon as the doctor went still, Ryan stood and hauled the portly man to his feet.
Daron, Dro, Nicco, and Angela stood around them. Eluding all of them would have been impossible.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Ryan’s gaze went to the man’s chest, where his name was embroidered on his coat. “Dr. Butala.”
Now that they faced each other, Ryan swept the man from head to feet—bulbous nose, wispy hair styled into a comb-over, thick hands with blunt fingers, and his tie askew. He had been tidy before Ryan landed on top of him and messed up his clothes.
Glaring at him, Dr. Butala straightened his glasses and dusted his grimy coat. In a thick accent he said, “You were chasing me.”
“Yeah, but that came after the sight of you frightened that little girl.”
Dr. Butala blinked once. “I am sure you are mistaken.”
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