CaughtInTheTrap

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by Unknown


  “Wait! We’ll make a trade, Yezhov. I know where Tyrone is hiding out. I’ll hand over Tyrone, but you have to give me Carla in exchange.”

  “No, deal! I want both men, or she dies. Agent Murphy, I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you forty-eight hours before I send the first body part.”

  The line on the other end went dead. Zach threw his phone on the dash banging his fists on the glove box. “Dammit!”

  “We got enough to get a trace, Zach. We’re going to find her.”

  chapter seventeen

  Carla sat on the floor with her knees drawn to her chest and held together by her arms. Had she proclaimed her prophecy? She should have listened to Zach and stopped saying she would die. The possibility of that happening suddenly became very real to her. The four men sitting around the dimly lit rundown shack spoke in Russian, their voices almost muted at times. Their expressions let her know she was the topic of their conversation. Every now and then they would glance at her, revealing uneven teeth and crooked smiles.

  She thought about Tonya and Yezhov’s soldiers who abducted them from the beach house when Tonya answered a knocking at the door. What she thought was a neighbor was actually the three men entering the house while Zach and Rodney were in the kitchen. There wasn’t enough time for her to react as the man shoved his gun inside Tonya’s mouth, his finger on the trigger. Carla opened her mouth to scream, but he pulled back on the trigger. She cooperated believing the man would kill Tonya on the spot.

  The abduction took less than a minute. Shoved into the backseat of a dark sedan they drove off not causing any commotion to attract the attention of anyone in the nearby houses. As they got miles from the beach house, the car slowed, the door opened and Tonya was pushed from the moving vehicle. Carla protested at the brutal treatment of her friend but was rewarded with a slap across the face. She saw Tonya lying on the street as the car drove away but couldn’t tell if she was moving.

  “Boris, take her to the tunnel and tie her up.”

  “Boss, why don’t we get out of here to avoid the heat? We got what we came for.”

  “Not yet. I’ve had it with Agent Murphy fucking with my business. He’s looking for her, and when he is close enough, both will meet their demise,” Yezhov, said pointing the gun at Carla and pulling the trigger.

  She closed her eyes waiting for the explosion of her brain, but the gun only clicked, he had removed the magazine before firing it at her.

  The largest of the three men stood up volunteering to do the deed. He was the same man that pushed Tonya out of the car. Apparently, he took gratification in harming women. He got up from the table, picking up a lantern and turning it on. “I’ll take care of her. Hey, boss, we’ve been without a woman for many weeks. I only need five minutes.”

  “Do what you want, just make sure to protect yourself; you don’t want to pick up any germs,” he said waving a hand in the air.

  Carla braced herself against the wall as the floor creaked under the weight of the man as he walked toward her. She estimated him to be close to 6’7” and weighed well over 200 pounds, probably closer to 300 pounds. “No, no, no. You can’t do this to me! I’m a person; please don’t do this to me!”

  Her pleas garnered smirks from the other men. The well-dress man from the bus shelter, who she believed was Yezhov, was back and outraged. He was a little man surround by huge bodyguards. His style reminded her of a 1970s throwback mobster movie. He wore a tailored black suit, leather dress shoes and multiple gold chains hung low around his thin neck. Thick black hair curled on his chest and poked out from the v-space of his half-buttoned black silk shirt. Slicked back black hair and neat black brows rested over sleazy-looking eyes as he peered at her over gold wire-framed glasses. With all the black he had on and the hot temperature in the shack, she didn’t see a drop of sweat on him.

  Yezhov shot her a nasty look and picked up a bottle and poured the clear liquid into a glass. The dim stick light that hung from the ceiling bounced a glare off the diamonds on the pinky ring he wore. He put the glass to his mouth and drank the liquor down in one gulp. He slammed the glass on the shabby table and said in a thick accent. “You’ll do as I say, and I say you go with him. After him, the rest will have a turn if they so desire.” He nodded to the henchman hovering over her. “Take her away, but do not kill her—do you understand me. She’s the only link to Murphy and my money.”

  The man replied as he reached down to grab hold of Carla. “I understand, boss.”

  Carla’s eyes widened. She wrapped her arms around her body, refusing to move. He was too big to be human, and there was no way she would allow him to have his way with her. . She shook her head pleading, “Please, no!” She swung at the giant, burly man trying to fight him off; it brought a roar of laughter from the other men. Swatting away her flinging arms like paper, he took hold of the first thing he could grab; her hair.

  He dragged her by the hair from the shack and outside, and through a dark hollowed-out tunnel that smelled like raw sewage. She whimpered from the pain ripping through her scalp. “Let go of me, asshole!” She fussed.

  He stopped and released the grip on her head and slapped her across the face. Her head snapped to the side; she grunted and staggered but didn’t fall. With her cheek aflame, she felt a trickle of blood slide down her upper lip and seep into her mouth. With her eyes ablaze, but deathly afraid, she said, “Does it make you feel good to hit a defenseless woman? Do you feel like a man, now?” Angering him was not the way to go, but she was not going out like a punk. She would fight until she drew her last breath.

  He set the lantern on the wet ground and shouted at her with authority in his voice. “Shut up and take off your clothes.”

  Trembling she watched him unbuckle his belt letting his pants fall to his ankles. His thick accent echoed in her ears, and spit flew from his flabby lips, showering her face and sickening her stomach. Carla choked back bile at the sight of his thick hairy legs extending from baggy white underwear.

  She rubbed her aching scalp and barked, “Like hell I will! Tubby, if you want me, you’re going to have to fight for it.”

  She saw his eyes; they were ice-blue and unmistakably evil. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Carla’s back slammed against the cement wall knocking the wind out of her somewhat. He came after her, and she remembered what Zach said. Dodging his fist from hitting her in the face, it caught her on the shoulder. Carla was slow recovering as pain tore through her body. His arm flew up again, and his fist slammed into her face.

  Dazed, Carla slumped to the ground. He fell to his knees wrestling her on her back. “You want to do it the hard way? Fine, we’ll do it the hard way.”

  Panic filled Carla as his massive frame loomed over her. He pinned her down by her shoulders with one hand and tore at her t-shirt with the other. However, being small had its advantages. She twisted her body around on the wet ground not allowing him to gain full control over her. Sheets of sweat covered his face, his breathing increased, and she noticed he was tiring fast from their struggle.

  She had to think quickly. Lifting her leg, she kicked out, landing a direct shot square in his groin. He bucked his eyes and then slumped on top of her howling.

  Trapped beneath his massive weight, Carla scooted from under him getting to her feet in a hurry. Her face throbbed with pain and blood seeped from her nose and mouth. That didn’t stop her from taking pleasure in looking at her attacker on the ground lying in a fetal position, holding his junk between his hands, swearing.

  The hoodlum in her kicked in as she glared at his crumpled frame. “Yeah, I preferred to do things the hard way,” she seethed. She drew back her foot and kicked him as hard as she could in the face. His head snapped back and blood mixed with pieces of his teeth poured from his open mouth.

  Carla still feared the man would harm her. What if he recovered and called for help? She couldn’t afford that to happen. Searching around the smelly dark cavern for anything to use as a weapon, she spotte
d a large rock. Her legs and knees felt weak, but the adrenaline surging through her veins kept her on her feet. Using both hands to lift the slimy rock, she raised it as high as she could, letting it drop down on his head. His eyes flew open staring directly at her before he rolled on his back. The front of his chest was covered in blood and his quiet motionless body let her know he was unconscious.

  Instinct urged she check for a pulse but instead she rummaged through his suit jacket taking the gun from the holster and the cell phone from the pocket of his pants that were wrapped around his ankles. Securing the weapon in the waist of her pants, she took off running. She had no idea where the tunnel would lead her but she had to get far enough away to contact Zach and keep ahead of the Russians still at the shack.

  Carla ran through the woods. The limbs from trees and bushes cut her arms and whacked against the open wounds on her face. Thank goodness she had on pants or her legs would be cut up as well. She tripped over tree roots and fell to the ground. The intense pain shooting up her rib cage took her breath away. For a minute she thought she’d broken a rib. Pushing herself up, her ankle barely let her put her full weight on it. Not letting that stop her, she continued to tread forward, listening for any footsteps behind her. Surly, Yezhov had to wonder what was taking his man so long in the tunnel and sent someone to check. She tried not to think about the man’s condition. If he’s dead, he deserved it she thought.

  Carla stopped running and limped through the woods. Her legs were tired, her lungs ached, and her heart was beating hard against her chest. She wasn’t conditioned for long distance running; she was a sprinter.

  She stopped and leaned against a rock, sitting the lantern on the flat surface. In the silence, she heard rushing water. Either she was near the lake or there was a river up ahead. She prayed it was the lake, maybe then she could find her way back to the beach house.

  She removed the cell phone from her pocket and turned it on. “Dammit!” she cursed. “The damn phone is password protected!” She smashed the phone against the rock resisting the urge to cry. Crying wouldn’t help her. “Okay—get a grip, girl. You didn’t come this far to give up.”

  It seemed like hours had passed and she was still walking through the woods looking for a way out. The batteries in the lantern were dying, and her legs felt heavy as logs as she trekked through the woods. Stopping for a fourth time to take a break, the lantern finally died. She tossed it in the thick brush to get rid of it.

  Wiping sweat and dried blood from her face, she prayed. “God, I know I harmed another person, and probably took his life, but he intended to do harm to me. I had to protect myself. So, if it is your will to forgive me, please send me a sign on a way to get out of here. I am out of options and need you to guide me.” She bent over resting her hands on aching knees. In the distance, she heard a low moan or crying. Carla’s head popped up. “Um, is that your sign for me to keep moving?”

  Taking the gun from the waistband of her pants, she moved in the direction of the noise. What is wrong with you? Black folks don’t go looking for the noise. Turn your ass around and run. She ignored the sirens going off in her head and followed the sound. The faint whimpering was a sound of hurt. It might be an animal caught in a trap she thought. Her heart thumped. God, it can’t be that big buffoon; he was out cold.

  Moving bushes out of her way quietly, her steps were light to make sure not to snap on the twigs lying on the ground. Passing through a dense patch of weeds, Carla came upon a river. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God, Tonya!”

  Unable to run, she limped over to the river bed. Tonya was lying on the edge of it. She rolled Tonya over on her back. “Tonya, can you hear me?”

  “Carla?” she whispered. “Carla, help me.”

  She swallowed, trying not to throw up. Her face was badly injured. “I will help you. Can you sit up?” She put her hand on Tony’s back but pulled it away quickly; it was covered with warm blood. Oh, God! Tonya was bleeding, but she didn’t know where it was coming from. “Tonya, don’t move. I have to check to see where you’re bleeding, okay?”

  “I can’t move my arm. It hurts to move it.”

  Carla checked her arms. “Shit.” Tonya’s left arm was severely broken. Muscle and tendons poked through the open wound. She most likely would lose the arm if she didn’t get medical attention soon. “Tonya, I have to stabilize your arm. It will hurt like hell, but you can’t scream. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes. I can’t scream.”

  “If you scream they’ll find us and finish the job, Tonya.”

  “I hear you. I won’t scream, I promise.”

  “Okay. I have to find something to support your arm.” She went to the edge of the river and saw a piece of driftwood. “Not the most sanitary thing to use but convenient,” she said fishing the wood from the water. Taking off her torn and bloody t-shirt she ripped it into strips to make a makeshift splint.

  Once she got everything laid out, she took a deep breath. Her EMT training covered emergency preparations but not anything like this. Carla looked at her hands; they were shaking. She would have to adjust the bone before applying the splint.

  She shook her head; there was no way Tonya would not scream; hell she might scream along with her. She counted to three and took Tonya’s injured arm. The piercing scream broke through the quiet woods.

  chapter eighteen

  Zach and Rodney searched the dense woods after finding Tonya’s shoe on the highway. The further in they searched, the more of her belonging they found. They also saw the blood trial that started light and grew heavier.

  “What the fuck!” Zach groaned. “Where the hell is the helicopter Lowes said he was sending?”

  “Good fucking question,” Rodney answered, using a flashlight to search through high grass.

  “Something is up with Lowes,” Zach said, his anger was evident as he kicked rocks and broken sticks aside with his foot.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s not following through with shit anymore. He’s doing sloppy, half-ass work. We’re the only two out here hunting Yezhov; where is our backup?”

  “Does this ring a bell, Zach?” Rodney asked shining the light on Zach’s face.

  Zach frowned. “Now I get to ask what you’re talking about.”

  “When we worked the Butternut case, how many agents were on it?”

  “Come, on, Rodney. You can’t honestly believe Lowes is acting this way based on race.”

  “The ATF has more agents working on this case than we do. All I know is Lowes got you on board because he knew you’d be able to penetrate the enemy line better than me. I’m here to flush out Tyrone and Phillip. He wouldn’t send a white dude to gain these guys trust.”

  “I was told the ATF requested me to work on this case.” He shook his head and kept looking for clues. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “Don’t waste your breath. He’s top dog and will deny any of it. It pisses me off that Carla and Tonya’s lives aren’t worth the manpower in his eyes. Carla is in the hands of a murderer and Tonya could be anywhere along the highway. We don’t know if she’s dead or alive.”

  “Hey, we’ll find them. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find Carla and bring her home safely.”

  Rodney lifted a brow. “You mean Carla and Tonya.”

  “Of course, I meant Tonya too. We gotta keep looking. I want to find them before dawn breaks.”

  Their search led them to a shack that was used by city workers to store supplies when the beach houses were under development. The construction crews had left behind large cement pipes from were digging and laying lines for the proposed beach houses.

  Zach put his hand out and said, “Rodney, do you see that?”

  “Should we storm it or wait for backup?”

  “Do you think any backup will actually come? Let’s check the area first and then make a plan. It’s only two of us, and we don’t have a clue how many men Yezhov has with him.”

  “
He’s known to have at least three bodyguards with him at all times. We have the advantage of catching them off guard if we go now.”

  “We go in there shooting; we could harm Carla. That shack is small and once the gunfire starts; it’ll be mayhem with her caught in the middle.”

  “Right,” Rodney agreed. “We need to smoke them out.”

  Zach checked his gun. “There are tunnels around here big enough for tow motors to drive through. They could have stashed Carla there.”

  Turning off their flashlights they began to canvas the area. They came upon a tunnel about a hundred feet from the shack. Rodney got in position to attack in case anyone came running from the tunnel. Zach pulled on the steel door, and it opened with a loud squeak. The night air was still and the slightest sound would travel. He paused waiting to hear any motion behind them.

  It was pitched black inside, and if anyone were in there, they would have charged them by now. Zach turned on his flashlight and stepped inside. Rodney followed behind him. The smell of stale water and rotting weeds growing through the cracks of the manmade tunnel was atrocious. He noticed another odor. It smelled like death.

  “Holy Shit!” They both said in unison as they came upon the large body lying in a shallow puddle of water.

  Zach kneeled down touching the man’s neck to feel for a pulse. He shook his head looking at Rodney. “He’s dead.”

  “Looks like a struggle went on in here,” Rodney said running the beam of the flashlight around the space.

  Zach reached for the material floating beside the body. He picked it up and sighed. “Carla has on a white t-shirt. She was here.”

  “Zach, there is blood on the wall. Hell, there is blood everywhere. Do you think she took him out?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her; she’s a fighter. But, if she did do this to him; then Yezhov is out here looking for her too.”

  Rodney chewed on his lip. “We need help. I’m contacting Agent Cooper with the ATF for backup. We don’t have time to play games with Lowes anymore.”

 

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