Ransom (Benson Security Book 4)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  Botox? For her feet? Belinda definitely lived in an entirely different world to the one Beast lived in. He ripped off a strip of the guy’s T-shirt and used it to gag him. Then he slung the rifle over his shoulder and slipped the machete into his belt. He was good to go. He turned to Belinda, to find her busy stripping the stained sheet off the bed. She spotted him watching her and pointed at the torn mosquito net.

  “Can you get that down? It’s a mess, but it’s better than nothing.”

  He didn’t even bother to ask what she was doing now; it would only waste time. He grabbed the net, scrunched it into a ball and thrust it at her. She put it under her arm with the sheet and the two empty plastic bottles that they could, hopefully, refill with water.

  “Ready now? You sure you don’t need to fix your hair before we run for our lives?” He sounded irritated, because he felt irritated. She was wasting time.

  Her hand flew to her head, and she patted at her hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  Beast pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that after this little adventure, he never had to see Belinda Collins ever again. It didn’t help.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your hair. It’s paparazzi perfect. I’m sure our kidnappers will appreciate how great your hair looks as they chase us through the forest.”

  Her eyes went wide. “They’re going to chase us? I thought we were sneaking out. I thought they wouldn’t follow.”

  Yeah, he was sure that in Belinda’s world, the kidnappers found that their captives had escaped, looked at each other and went, “Oh well, at least we tried.” He glared at her. “I’ll ask again, are you ready?”

  “Ready.” She strode towards the door. “No, wait, I lied. I forgot my shoes.” She ran back for the stupid, sexy sandals.

  “Leave them,” Beast said. “They’re useless.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “These are weapons. Didn’t you see Single White Female? Jennifer Jason Leigh killed a man by whacking a stiletto heel through his eyeball.”

  For a second, Beast was lost for words. Then he remembered they had to run. He grabbed her wrist, removed the shoes and tossed them into the corner, before dragging her out of the hut.

  “I hated those shoes anyway,” she muttered. “They’re no good for walking or dancing. But I thought I’d get my money’s worth if I could use them to kill somebody.”

  Beast pretended he couldn’t hear her. It was for the best. For both of them.

  He stuck to the shadows against the building walls, keeping an arm in front of Belinda to ensure she kept behind him and out of sight.

  “We’re clear,” he whispered, and signalled for her to follow him across the clearing.

  He figured they would expect them to take the shortest route of escape possible and run into the jungle behind their hut. So, he headed for the opposite side of camp, the one farthest away from their hut and the track leading out of the clearing. He wasn’t sure if going in the direction he chose would take them further into the jungle, or closer to civilisation, but it was the best he could come up with. In hours, they would kill him and rape Belinda. It was too risky to sit around waiting to be rescued. The faster they got out of camp and put as much distance as possible between them and their kidnappers, the better.

  The camp was eerily quiet. The only sound of life was the occasional snore from one of the cabins. There was no security, an indication that the kidnappers thought they were invulnerable. Belinda curled a hand into the back of his shirt, and he felt her touch zing through his body. He wanted her close. He wanted to keep her safe. But she didn’t have to touch. It was distracting. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a frown. She smiled and shrugged, but didn’t let go.

  He reached behind him, grabbed Belinda and thrust her in front of him. If there was going to be shooting, they could aim at him. She gave him a quizzical look but kept on running. As they reached the thick wall of greenery, Beast looked back. Nothing. No movement. No sound. Nothing. A feeling of elation rushed through him, but they weren’t out of the woods yet—literally.

  They ran as quickly and as quietly as they could. Every sense Beast possessed was working overtime. He hated that his back was facing the camp. He half expected a shot to ring out and their escape to end with a bullet in his spine.

  “If someone shoots me,” he said, “keep running. Don’t stop for me.”

  She looked back at him in shock. “Don’t be an idiot. If someone shoots you, I’m staying beside you to keep you alive. We’re in this together. Remember?”

  Beast wasn’t sure what use she would be if he were shot, but he kept that to himself.

  Once they were hidden by the dense plant life, Beast reached for Belinda’s arm. “I’ll go in front now, clear the way. We’re going fast. Keep up.”

  She moved behind him, staying close. “How long do you think we have before they wake up?”

  “Depends how drunk they were.”

  The rainforest closed in around them, and Beast fought the feeling of disorientation it caused. This was nothing like the city. Everywhere he looked, there was dense foliage in every shade of green imaginable. There was so much of it that it was hard to find a place for the eyes to rest, to focus. Tall tree trunks stretched up high into the dense canopy, where their branches spread. Above them, the blue sky was replaced by green. Every now and then, the canopy broke and early morning sunlight streamed through to the forest floor. They were boxed in on all sides, green all around them, green above and green underfoot. It was claustrophobic.

  And everywhere he looked, there was chaos. Long vines wrapped around branchless trunks, plants crept up the vines, hitching a ride up to the canopy and the sun above it. The ground was littered with leaves and dense with spindly young trees, bamboo and palms. It was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction, and anywhere he did focus seemed to be alive with insects and birds. As far as he could see, the Amazon forest was literally covered with ants. Then there were the flying insects that buzzed around the trees. And the mosquitoes who’d made a beeline for them as soon as they were out of the hut. Everything moved. The ground. The trees. The plants. Everywhere he looked, something looked back at him.

  They clambered over a fallen tree, which was covered in moss and vines, before moving deeper into the mass of green and further away from their captors.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about them hearing us,” Belinda said. “I never realised the rainforest was this noisy.”

  Beast didn’t reply, just held the leaves of a large palm out of her way to let her pass.

  “There must be about a billion cicadas in this part of the forest alone.”

  He didn’t answer because she didn’t seem to need one.

  “And the birds. Have you ever heard so many different calls? I haven’t. I’m sure that’s monkeys I can hear.” She paused. “Yep, there are definitely monkeys overhead. Did you know that scientists don’t know how many species of monkeys there are in the Amazon? They’re still discovering new ones.” There was a loud screeching sound, and Belinda’s hand curled into the back of his shirt. “Oh, did you hear that? It’s a howler monkey. They’re the loudest monkeys in the world. The baddies will never hear us over that.”

  Baddies? And seriously? Where did she get this crap? “Let me guess, you learned all this from Daniel Radcliffe’s movie.”

  She let go of his shirt, and he almost regretted the loss of her touch. “Wow, you really have a low opinion of me, don’t you? What do you think I do all day? Hang out at the spa, get facials and watch gossip TV?”

  That was exactly what he thought, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “Guess there’s no need to get to know me, then, huh? Seeing as you’ve already made your mind up about who I am. I’m the frivolous airhead who doesn’t do anything of use with her life. I can’t possibly know anything of value. Poor, poor you, you’re stuck with me in the middle of the jungle. I’m such a weight around your neck. Oh, how ever will you cop
e?”

  “I didn’t say that.” It was a lame argument. He sure as hell had been thinking it. And to be fair, she hadn’t exactly done anything to prove him wrong.

  “Well, let me know when you want to say something of value, John. It would be nice to hear from the man instead of the chip on your shoulder.”

  They were running for their lives. He didn’t have time for this shit. “Don’t call me John.”

  “No, of course not. You’re Beast. Big. Bad. Beast. The scary, tattooed wonder of the MMA world.”

  He spun to face her, and she walked right into his chest. He grasped her shoulders.

  “Woman, you need to shut the hell up before you get us both in trouble.”

  She waved a hand around to indicate their surroundings. “They can’t hear us. I can barely hear you over the damn monkeys.”

  “Well, I have no problem hearing the crap you’re spouting, and you’re driving me nuts.”

  “Oh, get over it. I talk when I’m nervous. Guess what, I’m not perfect. And neither are you…”

  She paused and her eyes gleamed, and he knew she was going to do it. He willed her not to. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and he willed her not to taunt him. But he could almost feel the emotion bursting from her. She was wired, looking for an outlet, looking for a confrontation to release the pressure inside her that fear and anxiety had caused. And she chose to pick a fight with him. Beast understood. He did. It was one of the reasons he still climbed into a ring.

  But this wasn’t the time.

  Because the need to let off steam was riding him hard too.

  “Don’t do it.” His voice had dropped an octave, and he willed her to heed the warning in it.

  Her eyes sparked. Her cheeks flushed. She took a breath and with a tilt of her chin that challenged him she said, “No, you aren’t perfect either, are you, John?”

  She folded her arms, cocked her hip and smirked at him with those pouty lips of hers, daring him to do something about it, pushing him over the edge on which the two of them were so precariously balanced. He felt himself fall as he reached for her. And then he did what he’d been wanting to do since he’d first set eyes on her. He shut her up the only way he knew how, by slamming his mouth over hers.

  It was electric.

  Static charges shot through his body, making his skin sizzle with need.

  Because of her.

  Because of how she tasted, and felt, and moved against him.

  She moaned as her lips opened. He clasped her head. His tongue surged into her mouth. There was a second when the world around them seemed to stop, when silence engulfed them as the rainforest disappeared. There was only the two of them, sharing the desperate need to release everything within them. To let the other person take it all. To find some relief.

  Chapter 9

  It had been two hours since their last meeting, and now the Benson Security team assembled in the ballroom once again. Ryan noted that this time, the family members who weren’t part of the team were missing. Coffee was flowing freely, and a buffet table had been set up near the bar, laden with finger food. Ryan had helped himself to a plate full of sandwiches, pastries and cake. He planned to go back for seconds.

  “They have fruit, too,” Elle pointed out as he sat back down beside her.

  “Fruit doesn’t fill you. You need stodge for that.”

  She shook her head. The programming genius had changed out of her party dress and into a pair of purple shorts that sported a vintage Minnie Mouse pattern, and a yellow T-shirt with ‘Ka Pow!’ in a jagged cartoon bubble, printed across her chest.

  “See you took the time to get back into your work clothes,” Ryan said around a mouthful of food.

  She answered him with a hand gesture before she went back to typing.

  “You managed to narrow the location down?” Ryan nodded with thanks when a waitress refilled his mug with coffee. She made him think of Esperanza, and he wondered if she was still in his bed, waiting for him. He hadn’t had a minute to check. He’d been running around with Harvard trying to sort out supplies for the rescue effort. Man, he hoped she was still in his bed. And he wished he was back there with her.

  “Yes,” Elle said. “It’s still a large area, but I called in some favours, and we should be getting satellite imagery through soon. Maybe we can see a settlement, or some buildings, to give us a clue where they’re keeping our people.”

  Ryan let out a whistle before taking a sip of coffee. Caffeine. Just what the doctor ordered. “What kind of favours did you do that gives you access to satellites? And whose satellites are we talking about?”

  She smiled, her eyes still on her computer screen. “That’s need-to-know. And you don’t. Plus, I didn’t say they were favours I was owed. I just said someone at Benson Security was owed favours. Big favours. Satellite-sized favours.”

  Ryan bet he knew who it was. Benson Security’s silent partner, Harry Boyle. The guy was an IT genius, who’d written security programs for the British government, among others. He wasn’t involved in the day-to-day business at Benson—he spent his time helping his wife run a charity that worked for greater literacy in Africa—but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fingers in pies that could be useful. Speaking of pies… Ryan picked up a tiny meat one and popped it in his mouth.

  “Listen up,” Lake called, and all talk stopped instantly. Every eye in the room turned to him as he looked at the waitstaff. “Please leave us.”

  They didn’t have to be told twice. The group of men and women scurried from the room.

  As they went out, a tall South American guy, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sauntered into the room. He headed straight for Lake and took up a position at his side. Lake waited until the doors closed behind the waitstaff before he started speaking again. “This is Rodrigo De la Cruz. I have it on good authority that he’s the best tracker and guide in South America.”

  “That would be my authority,” De la Cruz said with a grin.

  Lake didn’t smile. “David sent him.”

  Elle’s head jerked up on hearing the name of the man she’d been hunting for online for months. Even using the DNA sample David had taunted her with, Ryan knew she was no closer to finding out who the mysterious man really was, or which government he worked for. When Elle realised that David hadn’t accompanied De la Cruz, her shoulders slumped. Ryan wasn’t sure what was going on with David and Elle, but he knew he’d sneaked into her bedroom in Scotland months earlier and warned her to stop hunting him—by securing her with pink fluffy handcuffs, no less.

  Ryan leaned in and whispered, “Maybe he’ll turn up later.”

  She shrugged. It was forced. “No biggie.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Elle,” Lake said. “You got anything else for us?”

  “I have satellite pictures coming in right now,” she replied. “Give me a minute to go through them. I might be able to narrow this location down even further.”

  “Impressive,” De la Cruz said. He spoke English with an American accent, but Ryan would guess it wasn’t his first language. It was his mannerisms more than anything. Americans weren’t generally as expressive when they spoke.

  Megan plopped into seat on the other side of Elle. “At least David sent some eye candy in his place. Damn, that man is hot!”

  Her husband, who stood behind her, tugged her hair.

  “What?” she demanded as she looked up at him. “He’s the sexiest Latino guy I’ve seen since Ricky Martin. And I’m still upset that he plays for the other team. In fact, women everywhere are still upset about that.”

  Dimitri smiled and shook his head, leaving Ryan to wonder, once again, why any man would take Megan on.

  “Megan,” Lake said with a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes, Ryan forgot that, living in the same small town in Scotland, Lake had watched Megan grow up.

  “What?” Megan said.

  “Want to keep your voice down? Nobody cares how hot De la Cruz is.”

  “I do,”
De la Cruz said. He winked at Megan.

  Dimitri let out a threatening rumble, and Megan looked up at him. “Don’t worry, baby. Nobody is hotter than you.”

  “And this is why we shouldn’t let couples on the team,” Callum said. “It’s distracting and unprofessional.” He shook his head. “I wish I was back in the army,” he said at the same time as everyone from the London office.

  He glared at them as laughter broke out.

  “Okay, settle down,” Lake said with a grin. “It’s good to let off steam, but we need to focus. Elle?”

  She was studying the photos on her screen. “Can the new guy come look at this?”

  De la Cruz didn’t wait for permission—he strode around the table and came to stand behind Elle. He peered over her shoulder and tensed. “What’s the location?”

  She tapped her keyboard and brought up a map. He nodded.

  “Go back to that photo,” he said. An aerial view of an encampment surrounded by jungle appeared on the screen.

  It seemed like everyone present was holding their breath while they waited to hear what the man had to say.

  “Zoom in, bonita,” he muttered. “Scroll left. Zoom again.” He stiffened before standing straight. “It’s the Martinez family for sure. I recognise their setup. All of their jungle camps look exactly like this one. Each camp is isolated and rigged to blow if it’s penetrated by the enemy. The only access in or out is by boat, and usually the river is a hike from the camp.” He looked at the photo again. “This one is closer to the water than most. But still a good few hours on foot—if you take the shortest route. Days if you head in the other direction.”

  “Aren’t they making it hard for themselves to get out of there, if there’s only one way in and out?” Megan said. “If we take their path in, it will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  De la Cruz shook his head. “They grew up in the jungle. They know the area inside and out. They’ll just scatter into the trees if they’re attacked, and meet up at another encampment later. It’s one of the reasons they’ve been so difficult to eliminate. That and the fact they are merciless in making a name for themselves.” He looked back at Lake. “You know what they do to their kidnap victims?”