by Susan Stoker
Ghost noticed her body go stock-still, but didn’t have time to do anything because Wolf said from her feet, “Ghost, I don’t have the tools for this on me.”
“Fuck, okay, let me see what I’ve got in my pack.”
Ghost reached a hand into the pocket of his uniform pants. They were deep and he always stuffed them full of as much crap as he could, just in case. He’d found over the years the littlest thing could make the difference between life and death. A bobby pin once saved him and his entire team from being slaughtered deep in the heart of some Afghani hellhole.
Ghost was mentally reviewing what he might have that would work to pick the locks on the chains around Rayne’s arms and legs, when he heard her disbelieving voice.
“Ghost? My Ghost?”
Jesus, her words made his chest physically hurt. Ghost put a hand up to his chest to rub it before he even thought about what he was doing.
Hers. Yes. He was hers.
Blade broke through his consciousness even as he was opening his mouth to agree with and reassure Rayne. His voice came over their radios, low and urgent. “Incoming. Looks as though there are two large groups of tangos on their way in. You’ve got ten minutes, tops. Then get out of there. Copy?”
Wolf answered even as Ghost continued his search for a tool to pick the locks around Rayne’s extremities. “Copy. Found the missing package. It’s going to take longer than ten minutes for extraction. Over.”
“Negative,” Blade insisted. “They’ve got RPGs and they look pissed.”
“Copy.” Wolf didn’t say anything more, but leaned down to see if he could break the bedframe. They’d worry about the chains later if they had to.
“Oh God, they’re coming?” She couldn’t hear the conversation between Blade and the rest of the teams in the building, but she’d obviously inferred enough from Wolf’s side of the conversation. “Please, get me out of here, cut off my hands and feet if you have to, just don’t leave me here.” Rayne frantically yanked on the chains, trying once again to pull herself free.
Ghost could physically feel her panic. Cut off her hands and feet? No way in hell. He put his hands on her thrashing head and held her still. He leaned over her and put his face as close to hers as he dared. “Calm, Princess. We aren’t going to leave you here. Got it? We. Aren’t. Leaving. I’m not leaving.”
“Ghost? It’s really you? I don’t understand. I thought I dreamed you. I was wishing you were here, keeping me safe, and now you are. Am I still dreaming? Am I dying? Shit, you’re a hallucination, aren’t you?”
“I’m no hallucination. I’m really here. Now, stay calm while we figure this out, okay?”
She nodded and swallowed hard. Ghost’s respect for her grew. She was obviously scared out of her mind, but she was trying to control it for now.
Her voice was a bit less panicked but no less serious when she spoke again. “Seriously though…cut ’em off if you have to…I can’t feel my hands or feet anyway. I’d rather that than be left here. I’d have already done it if I had a knife and a hand free. I know what an animal caught in a trap feels like now. Remember that story of the guy who was trapped when a rock fell on his arm when he was climbing? I don’t remember all the details now, I think they made a movie out of it, but he cut off his arm so he could get out and get some help. I didn’t get it…until now. So please, I promise I won’t even feel it. Cut them off. Just get me out of here. Please, Ghost, please.”
Ghost ignored her except to say, “Shhhhh, we’re getting you out of here.”
One, he wasn’t leaving her, and two, he sure as fuck wasn’t cutting off her hands and feet in order to get her out of this hellhole. He couldn’t even believe the amount of bravery—and terror—it took to even suggest it in the first place. He hated she was in this predicament. Hated it.
He reached into his left pocket and came out with a Swiss Army Knife. He turned to Wolf. “This is the best I got. Damn, I wish Truck was here, he’s the locksmith of our team.”
“Benny’s ours. I’d kill for a pick right about now,” Wolf said absently as he leaned over Rayne’s feet and quickly went to work on the lock with the knife Ghost had handed him.
Ghost looked at Rayne’s wrists closely for the first time. “Oh, Princess…your wrists…you fought them hard, didn’t you?”
The cuff and chain the bastards had used to imprison her and to keep her immobile were rusty, and dirty from the crumbling walls and ceiling, and now covered in Rayne’s blood. Her struggles had not only ground the rust and dirt into her wounds, it had also caused the metal chains to bite deep into her wrists. She’d obviously been struggling vigorously in her panic for a while, because from what Ghost could see, she’d done quite a number on her skin.
“If you can’t get them off, will you leave me a knife before you go?”
“What?”
“A knife—no, wait, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Can you please just shoot me in the head before you have to leave? I’d rather die here and now than go through what they had planned for me.”
Ghost knew he should be doing something to try to get her free, but he couldn’t. Every word out of her mouth tore through his soul. He had no idea what had happened to her in this torture chamber, but whatever it was had made her completely panic. Her only thought was to escape. Rayne didn’t look like she’d been violated, her panties were still in place and he couldn’t see any blood, but Ghost knew it was certainly still a possibility.
Before he completely lost his cool, he put one gloved hand on her forehead and opened his mouth to speak, to reassure her, when she continued, sobbing.
“Please, you guys need to go, don’t get caught here. These guys are crazy; they won’t hesitate to kill you. You don’t have time to get me loose. It’s okay, just go…I lost you once, Ghost. I couldn’t bear to watch them kill you. I have to know you’re okay.”
“Shhhh, Princess. I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ghost repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. “We’re all going to get out of here.” Her thoughts were all over the place, first pleading for them not to leave her then ordering them to go. Ghost knew it was shock and fear, but he hated to see her this way.
“No good, Ghost,” Wolf said in a frustrated voice at his feet.
Ghost turned his head and looked at his teammate for the mission.
Wolf held up the knife. “It’s not skinny enough; I can’t get the pins to turn. I need something smaller.”
Ghost stood up and went to the head of the bed. “What if we kicked in the slats and took the chains with us?”
“I thought about that earlier. It’s worth a try. If we can’t get the locks undone it’s the only solution besides taking the entire bed with us.”
“We’ll take the entire fucking thing if this doesn’t work,” Ghost muttered under his breath, knowing it would be awkward at best, and incredibly dangerous and stupid at worst, to try to escape in the middle of a terrorist coup carrying a bed with a wounded and terrified woman on it. It’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. They’d be sitting ducks.
“I have something that might work.”
Wolf and Ghost turned to look at Rayne incredulously.
“What?” Wolf asked in an impatient tone, finding his voice before Ghost could. Time was running out. Neither of them wanted to look down the barrel of a shoulder launcher at a rocket-propelled grenade. They’d all be on the losing end of that confrontation.
“My barrette. Chase gave it to me. It’s full of all sorts of things. A small blade, a screwdriver, and a lock pick. He tried to show me how to use it once, but I was hopeless. I don’t know if it’ll work or not, shit, it’s probably a novelty thing that will break off in the lock, but maybe…” Her words trailed off at the men’s matching expressions of disbelief.
Ghost watched as Rayne turned her head awkwardly and he saw an antique-gold barrette in her hair. He reached for it and it unsnapped easily. He pulled it out and examined it. She was right, the prong in the middle opened up into a sh
arp point.
He handed it without a word to Wolf, who leaned over her ankles with a smile. “Only you would find a woman who’d happen to be carrying the exact tool needed to rescue herself, Ghost. Only you. Damn.”
Ghost leaned down and placed a quick, gentle kiss on her forehead, ignoring the dirt. “You’re amazing. Hang on, Princess, We’ll have you out of here in a jiffy.”
It wasn’t quite a jiffy, but amazingly, the hair clip worked. After freeing her feet, Wolf passed it to Ghost, who made quick work of the locks at her wrists. After he freed her, Ghost quickly replaced the barrette, making sure to clip her hair back so it wouldn’t fall into her face as they made their escape.
After being released from the chains, Rayne sat up quickly on the bed and would’ve stood and run out of the room if not for Ghost’s hand on her arm, holding her still. “Hang on, Princess, let’s get you a shirt, yeah?”
Rayne nodded and tried not to be self-conscious about her almost-nudity. It wasn’t as if Ghost hadn’t seen all of her before, and Wolf wasn’t even looking at her. He was at the door peering out carefully.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Rayne breathed as she watched Ghost quickly shrug out of his bulletproof vest so he could remove the black shirt underneath.
“It’s me. I couldn’t believe when your friend said there was a woman named Rayne still somewhere in the building.”
“Sarah? You found her and the others? They didn’t blow up? The assholes said they blew up the room.”
Ghost nodded. “They did blow it up. But the women managed to get behind something. Some are hurt, but as of now they’re all safe.”
“Thank God. And the men who were with them?”
“Them too.”
“Good.”
“Come on, arms up. We need to get out of here.”
Rayne did as Ghost ordered and obediently lifted her arms. She didn’t even wince when the shirt scraped against her wrists and blood ran down her arms in rivulets.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Princess.”
“Honestly, I can’t feel them, Ghost.” At his frown, she tried to reassure him again. “My ankles either. They don’t hurt. It’s okay.”
When he continued to frown, Rayne only shrugged. “Let’s get out of here. I’m ready. Please?” Rayne stood up and went to take a step to the door and would’ve fallen flat on her face if Ghost hadn’t been there to grab hold of her. He scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the door.
“I-I don’t know what’s wrong. I can walk…at least I think I can.”
“I’ve got you, Rayne. Hang on to me and don’t let go.” Ghost followed Wolf out of the room and into the deserted hallway.
“That I can do,” Rayne slurred.
Blade’s voice came over their headsets. “ETA? Tangos entering the complex on the west side. Copy? Coming in hot and heavy on the west. Everyone else is out. Over.”
“We’re east, coming out with the package. Ghost’s hands are tied. We’ll need backup. Over.”
“Copy. Get the fuck out of there. Fletch and Truck are on their way to assist.”
Both Ghost and Wolf breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t out of danger by any stretch, but having Ghost’s men on the way would make any fight they had to engage in more in their favor. With Truck, especially. The man was huge and no one in their right mind would mess with him. He wasn’t pretty, not even close. His nose had been broken several times and he had a scar that he’d gotten courtesy of a pissed-off terrorist that pulled the side of his mouth down into a perpetual scowl.
No, he certainly wasn’t a ladies’ man, more often than not they ran in the opposite direction when they saw him. He was exactly who Ghost needed right now, however. He needed a mean motherfucker to help them get out of there in one piece.
“How’re you holding up, Princess?” Ghost murmured as they made their way through the eerily quiet hallways.
“I’m tired. I’m so tired.”
Ghost jostled the precious bundle in his arms. “Don’t fall asleep. You’re losing too much blood, you can’t go to sleep. Do you hear me, Rayne?”
He felt her try to sit up straighter in his arms, but she didn’t have the strength to do it. One of her arms was around his neck and he could feel the blood from her wrist oozing down the inside of his vest against his now-naked back. It was warm against his skin and knowing it was her blood, and not sweat, made him slightly nauseous.
“So I was right about you being a super-spy after all, huh?”
Ghost squeezed Rayne in response, but didn’t say anything.
“Wearing all black, no insignia on your clothes…you’re either a spy or CIA. No way you can be a normal solider.”
Ghost heard Wolf chuckle almost soundlessly through their radio. He’d opened his mic in case he needed to talk to his team while his arms were full with Rayne.
Rayne continued. “No matter what happens, thank you. I’m guessing you weren’t there for me, you said you didn’t know I was there until Sarah told you, but thank you for coming to find me. Thank you for blowing shit up so Moshe couldn’t rape me.”
“What?” Ghost gritted out softly. Wolf held up a hand for them to stop and motioned for them to duck into a small room to wait out the small band of militants passing by their exit. They were three feet from freedom, but they couldn’t rush their escape. The last thing either man wanted was to have to make a run for it once they got outside.
“They’d made up some bullshit ceremony for boys to become men. It involved raping me seven times, including sodomizing me, fucking me from behind, and forcing me to take him in my mouth.” Her words were slurring more and more as she continued.
Neither man interrupted her, wanting to hear the entire story to know how to help her get through it, but also wanting to go back and kill every man they’d come across all over again.
“And get this…if he couldn’t make me come the seventh time, he didn’t succeed in becoming a man and I’d have to go through it all again. As if any woman would orgasm after being raped over and over again…”
“Did he touch you, Princess?” Ghost’s words were low and agonized, but Rayne didn’t seem to notice.
“No, not like that. He didn’t have time. As I said, you blew shit up right when he was about to start. So thank you. But you should know…my last thought was of you. I tried to remember your smell, your hands, and how delicious you made me feel…I wanted that to be my last thought, not of him and what he was going to do to me. I missed you, Ghost.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, almost as if she were talking to herself. “I missed you.”
Rayne took a deep, slow breath that hitched before she continued, her voice trembling. “He said he’d be back. He looked like a nice boy, but the look in his eyes told me he was anything but. Ghost?”
“Yeah, Princess?”
She was whispering again now, as if saying it out loud would make him materialize from thin air. “He’s coming back to finish becoming a man.”
“He’s not coming back.”
“He is. He said so. He turned to me when they were all running out of the room like scared little pricks. I believed him. He wants to be a man.”
“He’s dead, Princess. I killed him.”
Her eyes opened and she tried to lift her head off his shoulder, but couldn’t quite manage it. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just telling me that to try to protect me like you always do?”
Ignoring the immediate thought that he wanted to spend the rest of his life protecting her, Ghost asked in an even voice, “Was he wearing tan pants with a drawstring? Blue shirt?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty he will never be a man. Ever.”
“Thank God. Ghost?”
Wolf motioned that the coast was clear and they headed out of the building where Rayne’s nightmare had begun a week ago. Ghost was pissed, understanding now why the boy’s
pants had been undone. The little fucker had gotten way too close to violating Rayne. Way too close.
“Yeah, Princess?” Ghost repeated.
“I can’t stay awake. I tried. I did. But if I wake up, will you be there? I don’t want to wake up to an empty bed again.”
Ghost didn’t want her to go unconscious, but she’d lost a lot of blood and it might be better if she didn’t remember anything that happened as they fled the building. If they ran into trouble, he didn’t want that on her conscience as well. He didn’t like the word “if” she’d used though. “You will wake up, Rayne. We have too much unfinished business for any other outcome. And you better believe I’ll be there,” he said, his words giving her permission to let go.
Ghost looked down at Rayne after she finally succumbed to unconsciousness and went limp in his arms. It made it tougher to carry her. The good thing was that now he didn’t have to worry as much about not jostling her. He couldn’t hurt her if she was out. The blood from her wrist continued to drip down his back and the blood from her ankles was dripping on the ground as they continued out into the stifling Egyptian air.
“Wolf,” Ghost growled, getting his teammate’s attention. When he turned, Ghost nodded his head toward Rayne’s bleeding ankles.
Wolf nodded and keyed the mic, “Truck, package needs tape, we’re leaving a trail. Coming in fast and hot. Be ready to FedEx the hell out of there.”
“Ten-four.”
As Wolf and Ghost headed toward the pickup point so they could get out of Egypt and get Rayne some medical attention, Wolf mused in a serious voice to Ghost, “I don’t know what happened before today between you two, but you have a wonderful woman in your arms. Figure your shit out and don’t let her go.”
“It’s not that easy,” Ghost protested.
“The fuck it’s not. Someday I’ll tell you the story of my own woman, Caroline. And if there’s time, you can listen to the rest of my team tell their stories. We were just like you and your group. Badass Navy SEALs who didn’t need women in our lives. We thought there was no way it could ever work, but we were wrong, and so are you. Give her some credit.”