by Aliyah Burke
“Evan—”
“It’s okay, Kam. I knew I was second in your heart. I didn’t…don’t care. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you in that hospital.” His lids closed. “Be happy, Kamden Zyanya. You deserve nothing less.”
He took a few breaths that are more ragged then his chest stopped moving. Despite the fact she knew what she would find, she still put two blood-slicked fingers up against his neck to check for a pulse. There was none. Evan Childress was dead. Had died in her arms.
With tenderness, she closed his unseeing eyes and brushed her lips over his. “Goodbye Evan.”
Unsteady she got to her feet and looked around the hut. Missy stood off to a side, her hand clenched in her shirt and tears streaming down her face. Their eyes met and in seconds, they hugged, desperate for each other’s support.
“They…they killed him. Just shot him like an animal,” Missy wailed. “Oh my God, we’re next.”
Her own response fell short when the curtain moved, and two men stepped in. Missy shuddered and Kamden slid herself before her friend, determined not to lose another. Their looks made her skin crawl, but she held their gaze, her anger serving as her courage. She glared when they moved to Evan’s prone body and poked him with the muzzles of their guns. She wanted to scream and rail at them but it would do no good. Evan was already dead.
Missy’s whimpers grew louder and Kami adjusted so she could press her friends face into her shoulder. Tremors rocked from the slender woman. She bit her lower lip when another man came in and grabbed Evan’s legs and dragged him from the hut.
Evan!
More activity and three more entered. All armed and none to comforting to stare at. Her knees trembled when one moved closer. When he reached for her hair, she swung her right hand at him. He caught it and grinned evilly.
“That all you got?” he taunted.
Before she could talk herself out of it or even consider the ramifications, her anger boiled over and she punched him in the jaw then spit in his face.
“I’m a South Paw, you fuck. Is that good enough for you?”
He growled low before he touched his face and stared at the blood there. Faster than a snake, he grabbed her hand and yanked off her engagement ring. Shouting something, he left, leaving just the man with the scar to keep them company.
One eye warily on the man, she backed up with Missy and sank down by the wall. The humidity kept the blood on her shirt from completely drying. Arm around her friend, she tenderly brushed a hand over her face.
“Sleep Missy.”
Eventually so did she.
Kamden lost track of time. Days and nights blurred together. Each day she saw the sun, she wondered if it would be her last. Missy had given up hope and she was pretty close to it as well. She’d been allowed to send a note to her parents. If they got it or not, she highly doubted, merely figured it was just a way to ensure cooperation. One of the men who spoke English read it to make sure there were no codes in it. That was her reward for fixing up one of the men who’d broken his leg. They had discovered she was a doctor and she agreed to patch people up so long as she and Missy were left alone.
Every night she and Missy would curl up on an old moldy mattress to share body heat, keep away small rodents or snakes, and she’d whisper, “Hang on, Missy. Just hang on.”
At least that’s how it went until Missy caught a fever. Then she spent her nights doing her best to keep her friend comfortable. The morning Missy no longer breathed was the day she lost all hope for herself. It hit her there would be no rescue, no attempt to save her from her fate. Heck, she doubted they’d even sent off her letter. However, on the off chance they had, at least her parents would know her final thoughts were of them.
Tears streaming in rivulets down her face, she dug Missy’s grave alone, armed men watched over her, but they didn’t help. Honestly, she doubted she’d accept any. It was after all their fault her best friend, Missy lay dead, wrapped in mosquito netting. She’d allowed them to carry her here being she knew she couldn’t do it herself. Her hands were torn and bleeding when she covered Missy with the thick, nutrient-packed dark dirt. That done, she made a crude cross and said a prayer before tottering off back to her shack, or as she thought of it, her cell.
A few hours later, the head honcho, Sing, stepped in followed by three other men. She snorted in disbelief, as if she was a threat to a single man much less four, even if they had been unarmed.
“Get up,” he barked.
She rolled away, giving him her back.
“Get up!” One of the men nudged her none to gently with his foot and she winced in pain from the blow to her kidneys. “Injured man. You fix,” Sing ordered.
“Go fuck yourself. I hope he dies.” She poured as much contempt as possible into her voice.
“You help or die.”
That got her up. Yet another threat. She stomped past the asshole who’d kicked her and over to him. “Go ahead. I’m so fucking sick of all of this. Get it over with. Kill me. I’ve lost my fiancé and my best friend. So please, kill me. Your man will still be dead which is just fine by me. I hope your entire little village here dies.” She spat in his face.
She never saw the fist that connected with her jaw. Only the stars and blackness that came after upon swift wings.
Finally, she thought, I’ll be free of this place.
Chapter 3
Tennessee
Caleb hurried to the door with his sister in tow. They’d had a delay in their flight and now would be the last ones to arrive. His whole family had been invited to a party at the Strong household. Lane had just released another album and so they were going to celebrate. Personally, he hoped to see Kami. He and Lalia walked right in the house and were swamped by laughter and music.
He greeted people he’d not seen in a while, other children he’d grown up with, his smile fixed. Even so, he knew before he’d made his rounds that Kami wasn’t there. A frown crossed his face before he could stop it. He didn’t think she’d ever missed a gathering like this.
“Maybe she’s off with her fiancé,” Lalia chimed in after all but the families of the four women had left.
His fingers tightened around the glass he held, the condensation slick against his skin. Not anything, he wanted to know about much less think on. He arched a brow and held his sister’s gaze. Her black eyes sparkled with impishness.
“Maybe,” he said as blandly as he could manage.
“You know you should tell her how you—”
“Leave it alone, Lalia,” he warned.
She didn’t appear threatened in the slightest. Instead, she wrinkled up her nose and scampered off. He stood there and watched her leave with the other ones he’d grown up with. So then, he was the only child left there. He had just walked by the front door when the bell sounded.
“Got it!” he hollered. He pulled it open. “Yes?”
A deliveryman stood there with a small package in hand. He glanced at it and back up. “I have a delivery for Kenya Strong.”
“She’s right inside; I can take it to her.”
“Sorry. I’m only supposed to release it to her. She needs to sign for it.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Hang on. One moment.”
Closing the door, he hurried through to the kitchen where he faced the four women, he grew up around. His mom, Jacey and three of her best friends. Women he called aunt. Serenity, Sanura, and Kenya, the mother of his Kami.
Kami, she’s not yours. How can she be, one who’s engaged to another man, his brain taunted.
“Aunt Kenya,” he said. He still called her that even after all these years.
She glanced up from the fruit platter she currently picked from.
“What is it, Caleb? And why didn’t you leave with the others?”
He waved off her question knowing full well, if he opened his mouth to do so something to the effect of Kami wasn’t there would slip out. He swallowed and said, “There’s a package for you, the guy says you
have to sign for it.”
Kenya popped the strawberry in her mouth, wiped her hands off and smiled. “Guess I should go sign for it then.” She winked as she passed him.
He crossed into the kitchen to kiss his mom and the other women before grabbing a slice of pineapple. The food never made it to his mouth for a piercing scream filled the air.
“Cam!”
Everyone converged into the foyer and saw Kenya standing there, pale as if she’d seen a ghost. Her husband, Cam, Lane to everyone else, had his arms around her in a second and led her to a couch.
“What happened, Kenya?” Cam asked reaching for the package.
Caleb slipped back to the kitchen to get her a glass of water and when he returned everyone had the same look of shock and disbelief on their face. What the hell happened in the thirty seconds I was gone? He placed the glass down and moved to his father’s side. The women all held hands and Cam looked positively sick. Not that anyone else seemed any better.
“Dad?”
“It’s Kamden.”
All senses were immediately alert. “What about her?” The seriousness of the room didn’t indicate good news. He turned to his mom. “Mama?”
She didn’t answer, just lifted something in her hand. He went to her side and took it. His heart stopped. It was a bracelet with a four-colored square on it. He knew the bracelet and the story associated with it. All four women had one; they used it to let the others know they were in danger. And had passed them on to their own daughters. Kami had been wearing it in Miami.
So if he now held it in his hand that meant one thing and one thing only.
Kami was in serious trouble.
His heart seized at the implication. A low rumble of rage filled him and a red haze covered his eyes. He squeezed the bracelet until the edges cut into his flesh. A cold settled around him and he knew what he had to do.
“I’ll bring her home.” His voice grated so low it even sounded foreign to him.
Eight sets of eyes moved to him. A range of emotions in them. He stared at his mom, dad, then Lane, and continued on to his Aunt Kenya.
“I will find her and bring her home. I swear it.”
Such hope lingered in the depths of Kenya’s eyes. He wouldn’t fail her. He couldn’t. Executing a military spin, he headed for the door. A hand on his arm stopped him before he opened it.
His parents were there. Derek embraced him first. “Come home safe.”
“Yes sir.” He faced his mom after hugging his father.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
“M…m…more than anything.” He frowned over the stutter in his voice. It had been a long while since he’d done that.
He could tell his mom wanted to say something but instead she drew him in close for a breath-robbing hug.
“I love you, Marine.”
Words she’d told him when he was a young boy, each time before she left. “Love you, too, Mama.”
She stepped back and cupped the side of his face. Nothing else was said. There was no need. He could see it in her eyes. Her wish for him to be safe. However, she was a former Marine. Both his parents were. And they loved Kami as well.
Bending down, he brushed his lips along her cheek. Then walked out without another word. He knew where to start. Taiwan. He knew the location of the movie shoot and would go from there.
“So that just leaves one problem,” he muttered as he headed to the airport. “How I’m pulling this off without getting my ass into too much trouble.”
He had forty-eight hours leave. He’d be well into being UA, unauthorized absence, before this was over. It didn’t matter. Only one thing did now. Kami. Finding her. Moreover, bringing her back home, where she belonged.
αβ
Taiwan
The air was thick and muggy as he disembarked from the airplane. Sliding his sunglasses on his face, he walked across the tarmac. Waves of heat rose from the pavement and he took a deep breath, as the sweat began to run in rivulets down the back of his neck. He hoisted his backpack to a more comfortable position.
A white truck zoomed in and squealed to a stop just shy of him. He slowed when the door opened allowing a man wearing a horrendous pink and light blue Hawaiian silk shirt along with white shorts stepped from behind the wheel. Sun bleached curly brown hair and tanned skin, he was unfamiliar to Caleb. A close cut moustache covered the man’s upper lip.
“Caleb Moser?” the man asked, stepping around the front of the truck and offering his hand. The Australian accent made him asses the man a bit more thoroughly.
There was no reason to lie. He was booked on the flight. “That’s me.” The handshake was brief, but he could feel the strength in and calluses on the man’s grip.
“Names Deek. Let’s go, we can talk in the truck. This all you brought? Ah well, let’s go, mate.”
Caleb hesitated slightly but continued to the passenger door. “Should I know you?” he asked, pausing at the door.
“Not here, mate.”
Caleb was a Marine who’d survived many situations by trusting his gut. It told him to go with this guy, so he entered the dented, dusty truck. Despite the rough exterior, the engine turned over cleanly and they soon headed out of the small airport.
The vehicle bounced and jolted over the rough, narrow road. Dirt flew up from the tires as Deek pushed it to its limit. Only his apparent experience of handling the truck stopped Caleb from telling him to slow down. Even so, he braced hard, just in case.
Deek slowed on the outskirts of a small town. Children ran in the streets along with dogs, chickens, and other farm animals. His driver merely laid on the horn and waded through them. At the other end, before a quaint house, Deek pulled up to the door then killed the engine.
Silent and alert, Caleb got out and followed him up to the front, where he cleared a suspiciously rotten looking step. Once inside, he slid a hand around his pack strap and stared at the man who’d brought him here.
“What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Done told you that, mate. Names, Deek. We don’t go by much else here.”
“Okay, Deek, how’d you know I was coming and what do you want?” He remained calm despite his awareness of everything around him increasing.
“I’m here at the request of a mutual friend.”
He ran his mind over the contacts he’d made over the years and came up empty for any in Taiwan. “Who’s the mutual friend?”
“I believe you know him as Uncle Nik.”
He experienced a burst of hope. Uncle Nik. Nikolas Andreyevich. A Russian with more money than Midas as far as he was concerned. Nik’s wife, Cleo, was another close friend to Kenya, Kami’s mom. It didn’t surprise him to discover they’d been apprised of the situation. Nor that Nik would offer help. Nik was a man who took very good care of those he cared about and those his wife cared about. Plus they were her godparents.
“He said to give you this.” Deek handed him a briefcase. “And to give you access to my weapons.”
Briefcase on a table, he clicked the snaps open and found more than enough money, a number, and a satellite phone. “Have a bag?”
“Here.” Deek tossed him a worn leather satchel.
“Thanks.” He made short work of transferring the funds to the duffel. Zipping it he said, “You mentioned something about weapons?”
“Follow me.”
They walked to the bedroom through to a small closet, where Deek uncovered a numbered panel and typed in a code. The wall slid back and all Caleb could do was stare. Whatever Deek was in, it wasn’t legal. Made him wonder about Uncle Nik. For about one second.
Fuck it. I don’t give a shit if he’s in league with the devil, I’ll do whatever it takes to get Kami back.
He whistled low and took in the impressive array.
“Help yourself, mate.”
Caleb grinned. Like a kid in a candy store, he did just that. Grabbing a large black canvas duffel, he began loading it. In went semtex, grenades, ammunition
magazines, a few guns, head mounting NVG, first aid kits, blankets, netting, and rain gear. He held up some MRE’s. “Mind?”
“Not a’tall. Anything for Nik and his family.”
He tossed in the packets of meals ready-to-eat and briefly, thought about asking how Deek had met Nik then decided to just tend to his own affairs. On occasion he hefted the bag to check weight, it wouldn’t do him any good to have all this stuff if it slowed him down too much. When it had what he considered being basic necessities, he grabbed the black tab and slowly closed the canvas flight bag.
The flight bag was like the issued duffle he’d received upon enlisting, made of thick canvas, but this one opened like a regular duffle bag as opposed to securing on one end.
Hang on, Kami. Just hang in there, baby. I’m coming.
He sighed, gripped the heavy strap and lifted. “I need a vehicle.”
Deek smoothed finger and thumb over his moustache. “You want to drive? What, right up to their front door? No one sees these guys until they want to be seen. And a vehicle on their mountain will have you under surveillance before you can zip up your britches from taking a piss.”
“What are you proposing?” Caleb asked with cautious interest.
Deek’s smile, if that’s what it was, showed more than a bit of a man who lived hard, played harder, and did it all on the edge of reason. Not to mention the law. The clothing definitely didn’t make the man, for he was no tourist.
“Something much faster.”
The man walked closer, grabbed and lobbed a bound item in one flowing moment. Caleb’s arm tensed under the weight and he nodded his approval at the parachute in his hand. “You’re a pilot?”
“I’m a man of many talents, mate. The bed may be small, but the sheets are clean. Enjoy them for it’ll be your last for a while.”
Just like that, Caleb found himself alone in the impressive weapons cache. Bag slung behind, he strode to the twin bed and dropped it. A groan left him as he sunk to the thin mattress. He was amazed to see the panel had closed, leaving him staring at the small closet and a few older centerfold images.