Holiday Op

by Lori Avocato

  Bounced around in the back of a cold vehicle, Allie struggled with her bindings. Pain burned into her wrists and sizzled up her cramped arms. Both feet were numb and she ached to wiggle them, but she’d long since lost the ability to even move her toes. Wrapped in a dirty burlap sack, she couldn’t see. Slivers of light snuck through the tiny weaves of the fabric informing her when day turned to night. From her calculations, she’d been in this bag for roughly forty-eight to fifty hours. With the ability to roll around, she assumed she was in the back of a van or cargo truck of some sort.

  The gag in her mouth prevented her from speech or swallowing. Desert dryness coated her tongue, making her hunger for water. The sound of rain pounding the roof of the moving vehicle almost made her laugh. If not for the gag, she would have. A torrential downpour outside and not one drop for her to drink.

  Eyes closed, she tried to make sense of the past two days. How had she gotten here? One minute she was stepping out of a cab to represent her father at a scientific awards ceremony, the next she was here. From the dialect she’d heard, her captors sounded Asian. An eerie sensation in the pit of her stomach suggested she wasn’t in the States any longer. Somehow they’d managed to smuggle her out. But to where? And why?

  Then it hit her. An image flashed inside her brain of a recent news break she’d watched. North Korea … oh God, had she been taken by the North Koreans? The vehicle halted. Rain still poured outside. The doors opened and shut on the vehicle’s front. Somewhere close, another door opened. Heavy footsteps fell. Allie strained to hear, but couldn’t decipher the voices. Did they know the truth?

  Inhaling deep through her nostrils didn’t ease the sudden knot in her chest. It only managed to fill her lungs with stale air and induced the need to cough. Fear gripped her system, but she refused to relinquish command to such weakness. She needed strength to think straight. Focusing on her father, she gathered a calm from deep within her soul and willed her senses to right. Think, she reprimanded. How could they have discovered she was the driving force behind her father’s ideas? No one knew. She’d made certain over the past few years to cover their family secret from scrutiny. He’d fallen apart when Mother died. To protect her father’s reputation, she stepped into her mother’s shoes as his assistant and helped keep his gifted intelligence on track.

  No one knew she’d done more than assist. She worked closely with him on this latest system. Being the daughter of a genius had its perks and its downfalls. As a child, she’d hated being the smartest kid in class, so her parents shielded her from the hurt and homeschooled her. Through a variety of online colleges, she earned several different masters degrees, one of which was nuclear physics. There wasn’t a schematic in this guidance system she didn’t understand since she helped create the design.

  There’s no way the Koreans knew. She made Father promise not to state the extent of her participation in this project in his documentation. The memory of that disagreement brought momentary joy to her heart. He wanted to share acknowledgement of the accomplishment with her, but she refused, convincing him her time to shine in the scientific world would eventually come. She wanted him to remain billed as one of America’s top scientists until the day he died and she didn’t care how much of her work went into keeping him at the top. In truth, she feared losing him. He guided and pushed her forward, urged her to propel into new venues of science. Without him …

  Allie bit against the gag in her mouth hoping to somehow chew through it, but couldn’t. Each movement of her hands dug the binding deeper into her wrists, instead of loosening it. There had to be a way to escape. She needed to get back to her father and make sure he was safe. Without him, she’d be lost and alone. Together, they were a brilliant team. Moisture coated her cheek as a tear rolled from the corner of her eye. He was all she had left.

  Her eyes widened as the thought struck. Did they have him, too?

  Panic thrashed her system. She had to get out of here and find him. He had to be safe. Breathe, she reminded herself. Now was not the time to hyperventilate. In, out, slow and easy, she forced herself to inhale and exhale until her nerves settled. If her father were in danger, she’d need her wits about her to think things through and get them out of here.

  Allie lay still listening to the rain and straining to hear the voices of her captors. Male, distinctively male. A loud grate of metal upon metal broke the air. The vehicle’s rear doors opened. Cool wind blew in, causing her to shiver. A foreign tongue echoed as a hand clasped her ankle. With no regard to her safety or comfort, he dragged her across the floor to the door. Bumped and bruised, she managed to hold her head up to prevent it from bouncing on the hardness, desperately trying to prevent being knocked unconscious.

  Cold steel touched her skin and she stilled. Tightness left her ankles the moment he sliced the ropes. One shoe on and one shoe off, they dragged her from the van to stand. Silence filled her ears, echoed by the steady beat of rain on the ground. The canvas bag blocked her view. She sensed several stood around her as she struggled on stiff legs to remain upright. The rip of cloth, the sensation of material parting and the occasional nick of the blade made her fully aware they removed the burlap shroud. Blinking, she held her head down until her eyesight adjusted. A fist in her hair jerked her head upward shooting stars behind her eyes. Shifting her weight to her bare foot, Allie attacked the assailant’s knee with the other still sporting a six-inch black leather stiletto.

  The sudden release of her hair and his simultaneous howl granted her a brief instant of freedom. Running haphazardly, she dodged two men before another tackled her from behind sending them skidding face first in the mud. Before he could get a good grip on her, she twisted and turned trying to escape. With her mouth gagged, she couldn’t bite. Both hands were still tied tight together, but she flailed her arms like a club knocking him in the side of the head.

  The point of a rifle in her face followed by the heavily accented word, “Halt,” caused her to capitulate. The mud-covered man on top of her jumped to his feet. For several long seconds, she lay still, catching her breath and assessing her surroundings. Rain pelted her face washing away some of the mud. It stung her eyes, but she hesitated to wipe them with her dirty, bound hands.

  They wanted something from her or else she’d already be dead. Allie swiped the gun barrel out of her face as she sat upright. Covered in thick mud, she struggled without help to her feet. She maintained as much grace and dignity that a one shoed, soaking wet, mud-covered woman could muster, and stared the wielder of the gun in the eye.

  His silence and steady stare provoked her anger. She was in no mood for any further games. Cold, tired, and hungry, and though she hated to admit it, fear made her insides quiver. Not relinquishing his stare, now that the canvas bag was no longer tied around her, she managed to wiggle her fingers under the gag and together with the push of her tongue removed it from her mouth. She caught enough rain to coat her tongue and wet her mouth. Slowly enunciating each word she demanded. “What … do … you … want … with … me?”

  “Nothing.”

  She spun to see a man in the open doorway of a building. At roughly five feet, he stood several inches shorter than she. The light positioned behind him gave his lean frame an eerily dark appearance and hid his features from view. Obviously, he was the one in control. Clipped commands in what she suspected as Korean and the men scurried to please. The man with the gun lowered the barrel, produced a knife, and removed the bindings from her wrists. Men on each side of her nudged her toward the door, though she hesitated to move. She simply stared at the shadowed, short man. He sidestepped, keeping his back against the door, and waved a hand inward toward the warm, inviting glow of the room.

  “For now you shall be treated as my guest.”

  A solid push from behind and she was forced to close the gap between them. As she stepped into the doorway, he leaned close. His voice turned sinister as he warned, “Try to escape again and the punishment will be unpleasant.”

 
Faster than she’d ever seen anyone move, he brought the man to her left to his knees with a series of swift blows and showed no mercy when he snapped his neck ending his life. The gasp froze in her throat as the sight of the man she’d stabbed with her shoe crumpled into a heap.

  Heated words left the killer’s lips and the dead man was quickly dragged into the night. Her knees threatened to buckle. She’d never seen a man murdered and prayed she’d never see it again. Pulling her eyes from the disappearing corpse she stared at their leader. She managed to force one word from her lips.

  “Why?”

  “It is a weak man who cannot keep a hold on a woman, especially one that’s bound and gagged. His death proved to the others failure is not tolerated.”

  He spun on his heels and marched into the room. Not sure whether from fear for her life or the man who nudged her in the side, she followed the supposed leader into the lighted room. If nothing else, it was warm and dry.

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  Chapter Two

  Mitch couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman was incredibly beautiful and feisty. A black strappy stiletto caught and held his attention when they slid her from the back of the van. Sexy shot through his head for a millisecond before he shoved it from his thoughts. Missing a shoe didn’t matter. Her legs were lean and sculpted from what he could see. Inch by slow inch, they cut the burlap sack revealing a beautiful woman. It reminded him of a magic trick.

  The skillful placement of her stiletto amazed him and brought a smile to his lips. The woman had style. Dressed in a mid-thigh black evening dress, she handled her captors with grace and the finesse of a greased pig. They couldn’t get a hand on her for a matter of minutes as she did an awkward bob and weave, eluding them in the pouring rain. He bet if she had on a matching set of shoes—or better yet, sneakers—they wouldn’t have caught her.

  He stiffened at the sight of her being tackled from behind. The pair slid for several feet until they stopped. It didn’t faze her. She continued to fight for her freedom. He caught sight of the gun before she did and instinctively placed the man in his crosshairs. One wrong move and he’d drop him where he stood. They’d been instructed to bring her home alive and he planned to complete this mission. He couldn’t help but snort heavily when she sat upright and shoved the gun out of her face. Either she was the bravest woman he’d ever seen or she was insane. At the moment, he couldn’t decide which.

  When she turned toward the open door, he followed her line of sight. Damn, he hissed under his breath. Kwan Sung-hee. The worst of the worst stood in the doorway of the building. Short, powerful, and deadly. Known for severe torture tactics and brute force. This wasn’t good. Kim Jong-un employed one of the deadliest and most elusive mercenaries in the world.

  Keeping the gun level, he never lost sight of her. Soaking wet and covered in mud, she managed to maintain an air of dignity and defiance. Even at such a distance, he sensed strength radiate off her. The only glitch, she wobbled for a split second when Kwan killed the man she’d spiked with her heel. Death was a given in his profession, but he knew it wasn’t in hers.

  The moment the door closed he lost sight of her. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. They had to get her out of there as quickly as possible before that monster turned her inside out. Three clicks of his tongue to the sensitive mic inside his highly specialized helmet and he got the information he needed. They were ready at his go. Armed with the latest weaponry, his band of Force Recon Marines were the top in their field. This wasn’t the first hostage removal they’d completed.

  Switching to thermal heat-sensing binoculars, he located and counted the enemy. The dead body lay in the back of the van as one drove it away. Two men patrolled the front of the building while another two guarded the back. He located the other two inside the building along with Kwan and Miss Summers. No, he chided himself. Never give the package a name. It turned the mission personal and that wasn’t allowed. Shaking off his momentary lapse in Marine judgment, he relayed the info to his brothers.

  Once he knew they each understood, they waited for the right moment to pounce undetected and recover the hostage. But for how long? How long would she survive should Kwan decide to interrogate her by way of one of his horrendous methods?

  Moments later, the hostage was led to a room on the far back right corner of the building. Not surprisingly, they locked her in. What happened next stilled the air in his lungs. She undressed. Every ounce of moisture dried in his mouth. It wasn’t right to watch, but he couldn’t help it. From her movements, she entered a shower. Though he tried not to, his eyes glued to her actions for several long seconds before the dedicated Marine in him reminded him he had a job to do. Mitch swallowed hard as he readjusted his position to ease the sudden heaviness between his thighs. Never had he reacted to anyone as he did to her, especially while on duty.

  The sound of a throat clearing whispered through the built-in headset of his helmet jerking him back to reality and let him know he wasn’t the only one aware of her actions. Every man on this mission was equipped to the hilt with the latest computer enhanced gadgetry. They saw what he saw. Heat filtered up his spine. For a reason he couldn’t explain, he didn’t like that fact.

  Mitch closed his eyes for a split second, took a deep breath and cleared his head. Think mission and nothing else. Extract package, return it safely to base, submit report and return to the field. That was the way of his world. It didn’t include a woman. Not now, not ever.

  Opening his eyes, he caught sight of the guard’s movement. One remained at each door, while each of the other two rotated. While a man walked to the left and around to the front the other walked to the right and rounded to the back. Glancing at the time, he realized it happened at exactly fifteen minutes from when they’d taken their posts. Perfect. A smile tugged at his lips. If they did it again, it would be their downfall.

  Within minutes his men were in place. They knew their jobs. Take down the guard they were assigned without making a sound or being seen. Not a problem. Exactly fifteen minutes passed and the guards rotated. The instant each turned the corner, they hit the ground with a silent thud. The men located at the front and back doors were silenced as well. Mitch wasted no time. He entered through the window of the room where she was held.

  Looking into the open bathroom, he froze. She stood wrapped in a towel. Moisture glistened her skin. He knew the moment she spotted him. Her eyes widened and he reacted quickly. He couldn’t let her scream.

  Both legs trembled, but Allie refused to let her captor see her fear. He’d killed a man in cold blood. Would he do the same to her? Swallowing hard, she didn’t doubt it. One, two, three she counted each step trying to calm her nerves. When he turned to face her, she stopped, tilted her chin and straightened her spine. Even though she leaned, wearing only one stiletto, she grappled for an ounce of dignity and hoped she portrayed a serene, calm, collected manner she truly didn’t feel inside.

  To level her gaze on his, she lowered her chin. At five-feet seven inches tall, she towered over him. Yep, she was right. He barely cleared five feet. In his case, height didn’t matter. She’d witnessed his deadly capabilities first hand. Though heavily accented with an Asian flair, his English was well pronounced.

  “Miss Summers, as long as you are here you will be considered my guest. I have taken it upon myself to make you as comfortable as possible. My men have been informed to protect you by any means.”

  The gleam in his eyes sent a cold chill down her spine. His attempt at a smile gave her the willies. It wasn’t full-toothed or happy. It twisted more like a sinister grin, speaking volumes of the pain he knew how to inflict rather than easing her nerves and making her comfortable. Gathering as much saliva as possible, she managed to speak on a grated whisper.

  “Why am I here?” Uncontrollable shivers set in, causing her to rub her arms against the chill.

  “You are cold.” He grabbed her elbow and it was all she could do not to pull away. “Let me show you t
o your room.”

  Refusing to move at his attempt to guide her, she repeated, “Why am I here?”

  His eyes narrowed, but she maintained a slim grasp on her fear, keeping it buried beneath the surface. After several seconds of silence and staring at her as if scrutinizing her intelligence, he spoke.

  “You are a mere pawn in a much bigger game.”

  “You’re after my father,” she stated bluntly, not wavering from his intimidating glare.

  “Ah … Intelligent as you are beautiful.” He released her arm, but continued to walk as if they were having a casual conversation. She followed. “Your father has something my employer wants.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Miss Summers. Your father created a missile guidance system which is worth far more than the United States government has given him.”

  “My father is a patriot.” She stiffened. “He believes in his country.”

  “Do you? Are you willing to die if he refuses to exchange the information for your life?”

  “I trust my father.”

  “Then for your sake,”—he sneered as he stopped and opened the door on the far right side of the room—“let us hope he makes the right choice.”

  Allie opened her mouth to speak, but closed it instead.

  “Your room, Miss Summers. You will find a bathroom complete with toiletries. Also, a change of clothes can be found laid out for you on the bed.” The touch of his hand down the back of her gown to her waist caused her to flinch. “Of course, it is nothing to match the finest silk that you wear. Too bad the rain and your attempted escape ruined it. Do not try that again. It would be a shame to preempt your life before its time. There are armed guards surrounding the building. While you refresh, I shall see to your nourishment.”