“Walk!” the bigger of the two terrorists ordered, his hot breath singeing my neck.
“No,” she uttered rebelliously. My heart sank. Why was she doing this? Now was not the time to be difficult. All hope was not lost. It was small, at times seeming microscopic, but it was there. I believed that. I had to.
Maya jumped when the men dug their weapons into our backs. We pushed forward but Denise wouldn’t budge. She was strong in her convictions, that I knew. I experienced it every day. But more than that, she was stubborn. Set in her ways.
“Walk!” they ordered again, this time much louder. The muscles in my legs ached. My body shuttered.
“Denise, please,” Maya implored, her voice barely above a whisper. She was ignored. I’d never seen her look so scared. Maya was a tough cookie, but this type of vexatious predicament could break even the strongest person.
In the distance, doors shut. The rumbling of engines ensued. The other trucks took off with our friends. And I wondered if I’d ever see them again or if we’d all be taken to different places. Just then one of the two men grabbed Denise, seizing her head by the roots of her short hair. She let out a pained screech.
“WALK!” He bared his teeth, letting out a deep grunt from the back of his throat. The rotten choppers were full of decay. I was certain the man had never seen a dentist a day in his life.
She surprised everyone when she turned and spat at his face. The angry man retaliated by backhanding her, practically foaming, the corners of his mouth retaining the mass of small bubbles like a rabid dog. Her head reared back with the impact and simultaneous gasps left our lips at her bloodied cheek. She looked back at the assailant and was unrecognizable. Rage taking over, a storm brewed in her eyes. Please don’t do something stupid. It was too late. Advancing on him, she was shot, the sequence of hot bullets piercing her chest.
I drank salty tears as the thug behind me pushed us forward with his weapon. Denise’s sudden death traumatized Maya and I had to haul her beside me, clutching her to my body like a child held a rag doll. I didn’t allow myself to look back. Couldn’t stomach the thought of getting another glimpse at our dead director. My heart hurt too damned much. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It had to be a bad dream.
Crammed in the sweaty vehicle, I had the burden of being placed immediately to the right of the driver, the barrel of his weapon an inch from my thigh. We started to drive. I couldn’t help thinking that one more pothole, one more unearthed bomb, and that rifle could go off and blast a hole through my leg or kill any one of us. The more I tried to push the thought out of my head, the more I fixated on it. Was this how we would die? Would we meet our maker like Denise had? Then be abandoned like roadkill. I thought of her body rotting before being discovered and swallowed back a fresh bout of bile.
The crazy-eyed driver said something in a language I didn’t understand, but I didn’t need to be fluent in his native tongue. His words, the motions of his rifle translated into any language.
The hours passed down the sandy road, the four of us confined in the same stench-filled space, and we were transferred to other vehicles at least three other times. Same routine, same driver, another mud-stained vehicle, the identical pinch of the AK-47 across his lap, its barrel at my side. Maya stayed silent, as did I. Affliction accompanied our every move. Tried to keep myself sane with thoughts of my family, desperately tethering myself to happy memories.
As the day dragged into night, my sense of self and grip on reality began to loosen. Nothing I had accomplished in my life mattered to these kidnappers. I was no longer a woman, someone’s daughter. I was nothing more than a possession to be used for these men to get what they wanted.
The only problem was I didn’t have a clue what that was.
13
Kyle
“We’ve got every man on this, Lieutenant Commander Lawson. Drones are being sent out now, and we have Osprey helicopters surveying the terrain. We will find them.”
I nodded while clutching the phone but my gut doubted the words of my Rear Admiral. He was the best the military had. Admiral Stevens had orchestrated some of the best rescues in military history. I was honored to serve with him.
In reality, we didn’t know who took the women, why they took them, and where they were. No group had taken responsibility for the kidnappings, yet. I had my theories—the usual suspects—religious fundamentalists, radicals, terrorists. But I never wasted my time on conjecture; my decisions were made on facts, not guesses. My actions could mean life or death to these women—the gravity of the predicament and responsibility weighed heavily on my soul.
“Thank you, sir. I’d like to be on the ground and have my Team be the first ones embedded when we discover their location.”
“Roger that. I’ll update you when I hear anything new.”
My first decision had been to return with my Team to base to formulate a plan, gather intelligence, and call in air support. There was absolutely no time to be spent on a wild goose chase. This wasn’t Hollywood—I wasn’t miraculously going to find her by the side of the road.
Since the abduction, thousands of military personnel, both Stateside and in-country were working on this. For now, I could do little more than be prepared and wait.
I grinded my teeth. The word burned. Wait. Safe on base, with a television, a computer, food, and my military family.
I paced around the room. Every second that clicked on the clock grated at my nerves. Anger and worry consumed me.
Pat placed his hand on my shoulder. “I get it. It’s personal. This is exactly how I felt when I’d left Annie in the brothel. But I found her. We’re going to find Sara.”
I shook his hand off. I didn’t need his comfort—I needed to take action.
Ten more agonizing minutes passed. Finally, the phone rang.
“Lawson, a terrorist group has taken responsibility for the kidnappings. The girls’ faces are plastered all over the media.”
I clicked on the computer—pictures of the squad, numbered as if for execution. Their director was noticeably missing. Running a hand down my face, I studied Sara’s face intently, her beautiful blue eyes, her angelic smile. Rubbed across my chest. This fucking hurt. I would never forgive myself if I couldn’t save her.
I’d always believed I was put on this earth for a purpose—save lives to make up for the ones taken.
Sara was my duty, my mission. I would rescue her or die trying.
14
Sara
I’d completely lost track of time, as the never-ending landscape of desert mountains rolled past the window throughout the day. Now the sky was dark. I tuned out most sounds except for Maya’s. Her sobs had stopped. She grew quiet as the truck seemed to slow down.
I clutched the armrest as Crazy Eyes stopped the vehicle. Where were we? I quickly glanced around, hoping to see some type of nearby shelter, or at least the other vehicles behind us.
But there was nothing.
We were alone.
The dark of night, the dust of the desert, imposing mountains and trails, and the smell of diesel were the only elements surrounding us. I felt small in comparison. It was the feeling of being swallowed whole. I wanted to close my eyes and be back home. End this nightmare.
Crazy Eyes chuckled when my breath caught as the barrel of the AK-47 belonging to his accomplice pressed into my left shoulder from the backseat. “Walk.”
It took me a moment to understand the word walk even though it was spoken in English. Walk? Walk where?
In the non-sound of silence, I realized the answer.
To the middle of nowhere in the desert mountains. To the dead of night. Unmarked. Untraceable.
Where we would never be found.
I stepped out and clutched Maya’s hand as she exited the vehicle. Her hand was ice-cold.
Why would they take us here? There could only be one reason.
We were going to be assassinated. Just like Denise. Only the lewd looks in their eyes told me we�
��d be raped first.
Maya turned to me, and though I could barely make out her face in the mask of night, I knew by her quaking voice she was terrified. I’d grown numb. “Sara, if we go out there, we will be killed.”
On a daily basis, Maya took care of me. Cared for me like a big sister. It was my turn to be the stronger one. I put my arm around her and whispered in her ear, “If they kill us now, they can’t use us for leverage. We’re in for a long night. We were probably sixty miles from the military base when we were taken. I’m sure Kyle is on his way. That’s why the other girls aren’t with us now. I’m sure they’ve already been saved.”
But I didn’t believe any of my words. Not a single one.
Neither did Maya.
Her voice choked with impending sobs. “I don’t want to die.”
I made a conscious decision at that point. I refused to focus on being certain I was about to die. I would savor the time I had left. And protect Maya at all costs.
We continued to march deeper into the night, the walls of darkness closing in on us. Soft lighting came from a small flashlight one carried. When I turned back, glancing over my shoulder, I made out Crazy Eyes and his friend speaking in hushed voices, both their rifles with extra ammunition pointed at us. There was no way out, no escape. They noticed I was staring and became silent. I whipped my head forward so fast it ached.
“I can still see the truck. We’re not far,” I whispered to myself. I racked my brain with a plan. I wouldn’t be discarded on the side of the road. Left to decompose. I refused. We walked in unison, at first no sounds but their heavy footsteps behind us. They were in horrible shape and I heard their heavy breathes as we marched. We didn’t have weapons but maybe we could outrun them.
Then we stopped. Still in the middle of nowhere. I analyzed the area, looking for a way out.
That was when Crazy Eyes removed a knife from one of his pants leg pockets, its blade lightly shinning under the stars above.
It wasn’t just any knife.
Not a long blade that could execute us in a single swipe, more of a butcher knife. I wondered if they relished in slow torture. If they planned to saw our heads off, gradually, agonizingly, making us suffer for as long as possible.
The other thug kicked the back of my leg, then Maya’s. Her knees buckled, and I held onto her, plastering her to my side. “Get on your knees and turn away from us.” The bastard knew more English than he had let on.
Maya burst into tears. And it took all my strength not to give these heathens the satisfaction of my terror.
I looked up to the moon for comfort, but even the moon had failed me. Had hidden when I needed it. But the stars lit up the sky.
The same stars Kyle and I made love under the night before.
And at that moment, I made a vow.
A vow to live. To believe.
Because I knew that somewhere out there Kyle was under those same stars, and they would lead him to me. I just needed to figure out how to keep us alive until then.
15
Kyle
No word, no calls, no new intel. Where the fuck could they be? I was so desperate it had even crossed my mind to go rogue, but I wasn’t stupid. I had to trust the military intelligence. A dumbass decision like that would most likely end up with Sara dying and maybe even some of my men, not to mention me losing my career. But at the moment I only had one thing on my mind. My only goal was to find Sara, alive, and the best shot of that was to go through the appropriate channels. I had faith in my commanders, the United States Navy, and God. I knew what needed to be done.
Finally, when the stars lit up the sky and my sense of helplessness had penetrated deep within me, my phone rang. I recognized my admiral’s voice as he spoke into the receiver.
“Lieutenant Commander Lawson, we’ve spotted the vehicles abandoned by a side road. A drone has taken a picture of the hostages in the desert. Airstrike is out of the question with American hostages. Assemble your Team for a night op.” The tone in his voice was reassuring, hopeful. My confidence rose—I was going to find them. Out here every minute counted, and I breathed out a deep sigh of relief that hostages had been spotted. She was alive. She had to be.
I made notes while my commanding officer laid out the plan. God was on my side—tonight was a new moon, but he would guide the way. The sky would be black, perfect night for an operation. We would fly in on a C-130, parachute into the night, and then take foot. Once we surrounded the area, we would destroy the terrorists and save the hostages. A typical day at the office. I wasn’t even scared, I was excited. In my mind, there was no chance of failure. I’d done versions of this operation before. Enough times to know what to expect. One day these thugs would realize there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. If they fucked with Americans, we would find them, and we would kill them. We were the best. And there was nothing that fired us up more than protecting our own. Only the lowest of the low took pleasure in hurting women.
The pounding in my chest ebbed and a fire took its place. Calm, measured, and ready to burn anything that stood in its path. I made my way to the barracks and awoke my Team. Being fresh and ready to go was a given, yet I hadn’t slept a wink. After a quick briefing we checked out weapons, and headed to the C-130. Vic had his Team dog, Cuervo, with him. Cuervo was a badass Belgian Malinois. That dog could sense the enemy before we could, skydive, and had captured more men than I had. He truly was man’s best friend.
Just as we finished loading up, Pat took me aside and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You have that look about you, brother. I know you can feel it just as much as me. We’ll find her. We found Annie and we didn’t even know where she was. Piece of cake. You understand?”
Nodding, I pulled him in for a hug, and he didn’t resist. We were closer than close. Swim buddies at BUD/S. It didn’t matter back then that I was an officer and he was enlisted. Our color, our backgrounds, neither meant a thing. It didn’t matter that I was rich and he was poor. That I had a college degree and he had a high school education. How many nights had we huddled together trying to stay warm in the cold ocean water during surf torture? He was my brother.
But Pat was a married man now, a father of one, and soon-to-be two kids. The weight of his new responsibilities weighed heavily on me. I would not make Annie a widow—she’d most certainly been through enough. I would not leave their children without a father. If this mission failed, it was on me. I had promised Annie I would keep him safe, and I never break my promises. Not to Pat, not to Annie, not to Vic, and definitely not to Sara. You weren’t shit if you couldn’t keep your word.
I kept shaking my head, letting him know I understood as we hugged it out before Mitch, Shane, Grant, Joaquín, Erik, Vic, and Cuervo climbed into the C-130, and Pat and I quickly followed. As the aircraft took off, I focused on the stars in the sky. With the absence of the moon, they seemed brighter than normal.
I bowed my head and prayed. I thanked God for this mission, and asked him to protect her until I could do it myself.
16
Sara
Time stood still as the rocks dug into my knees. This was it, the last moments of my life. I’d never get married, I’d never have kids. I was only twenty-one and I was sure I was about to be slayed.
The steel metal of the blade pressed against the back of my neck. Maya screamed and he pointed the knife at her.
But he wasn’t done with me yet. I’d moved and that only made him angrier. He yanked my hair back in one meaty fist as if in a high ponytail, pulling the strands so tight my scalp burned. As he twisted my hair, his grip tightened, and I was certain he was preparing to behead me. He raised the knife and I let out a bloodcurdling scream when the blade sliced through the air.
Within seconds the tension released from my head.
But I was alive.
I cranked my head back and saw Crazy Eyes laughing, holding my hair in his hand. His rotting teeth were yellow, the stench from his mouth repulsing me when he lowered to wave the hair in my
face. Then he spat at my face.
I wiped at the thick saliva running down my face and ran my fingers through what was left of my hair. I’d been shorn like a sheep. Maya whimpered beside me as the other assailant looked on, enjoying the show. The sadistic storm brewing in his eyes told me the sick bastard was getting off on petrifying us.
Tears burned as they cascaded over my skin, but I forced myself to stop. They wouldn’t see me cry. Crazy Eyes’ stench filled the air as his hand wrapped around my neck. And I gulped trying to breath. Opening my eyes wide, I stared back at him.
My head jerked when he unzipped my jacket, the fabric ripping too easily, and I shook my head to say no. Please...no. He went for my arm next and I thought he would slice through it as well. He didn’t. I flinched. He was instilling fear in me by slowly dragging the sharp blade and slicing through the material of the sleeve and stuffing the ripped material in my mouth. The tip of the blade then sliced my tank top, exposing my bra, and I gasped, dropping the material from my mouth. He instantly looked displeased.
Invaluable (The Trident Code Book 2) Page 7