“She has a fever,” Beast said. “She needs medicine. Water.”
The man studied Belinda, who lay crumped on the ground. No one moved to help her. One of them toed her with his boot, making Beast growl.
“Don’t.” The gun was pressed harder to his head. “Don’t harm her,” Beast said. Nothing would stop him if they did. No amount of binding would keep him from them.
“I don’t think it’s an act,” the man who’d toed Belinda said. “We have to carry her.”
The men leered at each other before one of them lifted Belinda and hefted her over his shoulder. She hung like a rag doll, and Beast let out another low growl.
“Be careful with her.”
The men laughed at him.
“Move.” He was shoved in the back with the barrel of a gun. “Martinez is eager to see you again. Don’t worry. We aren’t far from him now.”
Beast didn’t care who was waiting for them. All he cared about was the sight of Belinda dangling sick and vulnerable over the shoulder of the man in front of him. Even if he had to die to do it, he was going to find some way to get her out of this in one piece.
Chapter 29
Belinda wavered in and out of consciousness. She felt as though her skin was on fire, yet it was suddenly very cold in the jungle. Thirsty—she was so thirsty. She caught snippets of activity around her. For a while, she’d been upside down, then she’d been tossed to the ground. She remembered landing, the jolt to her knee making her scream. After that, there was laughter and someone roared her name.
John.
She struggled to open her eyes. The world had toppled. The sky was to the side of her and the trees had gone. Sky? Blue sky? After days of endless green, she couldn’t believe what she saw was truth.
“She needs water,” John said in a harsh, desperate voice. “Somebody give her some fucking water!”
She felt a hand under her arm, and the world righted itself. She blinked several times as someone pressed a bottle of water against her lips. She grasped it with both hands, gulping until it was finished.
“More,” she whispered, and another bottle was placed in her hands.
She felt as though her body had turned into a giant sponge, soaking up each precious drop of water. Her head slowly cleared and her surroundings came into focus.
She was in hell.
The green of the Amazon Jungle’s trees and plants was gone, replaced with an endless sea of red earth and mud. Hundreds of trees had been uprooted and left to rot where they fell. Their leaves were gone and their skeletons lay caked in mud. Mounds of dirt loomed up all around them, like giant anthills. In front of her there were vast, gaping craters filled with brown water. In the middle of one, a large makeshift raft sat abandoned. It had bamboo poles poking out in all directions, holding up pipes and supporting a ripped tarpaulin roof. Alongside it was what looked like a large metal conveyor belt. And around it, in the mud, were several empty pots and basins. At the side of the crater were a few crooked huts, made of strung-together bamboo with straw-covered roofs. The only piece of colour in the whole area was the blue of the tarpaulin.
It was a scene of utter, thoughtless devastation. But the thing that shocked Belinda the most was the lack of noise. There were no insects buzzing around, no birds singing, no monkeys calling to one another. This land was dead. Lifeless. Empty.
“John?” she said in a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and shouted, “John!”
“I’m here.” The sound of his voice made her want to cry with relief. “Let me get to her. She’s sick.”
There was a scuffle, and a man with a gun shoved John to his knees beside her. She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight.
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll get out of this.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” A man crouched in front of them, and she recognised him immediately as the kidnappers’ leader. “I have something much more interesting planned for you.”
He grasped Belinda’s chin and turned her face towards him. John shot forward, but a guard clamped a hand on his shoulder and kept him in place. He growled and struggled for freedom, and Belinda noticed that his hands were secured behind his back.
“Who did this to you?” The leader sounded angry that she’d been hurt. In her dazed and confused mind, she wondered if it was because he didn’t want his property damaged, or because he’d wanted a clean slate to mark for himself. “Tell me.” His fingers tightened on her jaw, making her gasp.
“Miguel!” she said.
He released her, and she fell back against John. “Estúpido! Miguel never understood patience.” He trailed a finger down Belinda’s cheek as the guard tightened his hold on John. “Tell me, Señorita Collins, did Miguel get inside that famous body of yours, or did your lap dog stop him first?”
John fought to get at the man. The leader nodded at the guard holding him, and the guard struck John with the butt of his gun. He slammed into the mud in front of them. Belinda gasped and reached for him as the world tilted yet again. Her hands were shaking, and it was hard to focus on anything being said.
“Tell me.” The leader grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her attention to his face. “Did Miguel fuck you?”
Fury coursed through her, giving her clarity. “Do you mean did he rape me? He tried. He was eaten by a caiman for his efforts.”
There was a moment’s silence before the leader threw back his head and laughed. He shouted to his men, and they all laughed too. The leader let go of her hair, and she hurriedly reached out to help John get back onto his knees. That small effort sapped every last reserve of strength she had left, and she slumped against him.
He was breathing hard, fury emanating from him. She placed a hand on his arm, a small comfort in a situation that was woefully out of their control.
As she watched, a man came up to stand beside the leader. He acted as though he was also in charge, rather than one of the men the leader ordered around. Now that she studied him, her slow, aching brain noted the family resemblance. The two men had the same bone structure and the same dark, greasy hair.
“Who are you?” Belinda said before she could censor her words.
With identical flat, malicious gazes, they turned their attention to her.
“Forgive me for not introducing myself,” the leader said with clear amusement. “I am Angel Martinez, and this is my brother Diego. This”—he held up his hands and motioned to the devastation—“is one of our gold mines. And you”—he pointed at them—“are about to become the stars in our first ever live broadcast. I am sure you feel honoured.”
Belinda shivered and slipped down into the mud. The Martinez brothers laughed before shouting orders at their men. They were no longer interested in their captives.
“John,” Belinda said softly, “I don’t feel so good.”
And then the world went dark again.
Belinda’s head landed on Beast’s thighs as he knelt in the mud. With his hands secured behind him, he couldn’t even touch her. She was clearly burning up. Her face was flushed and her eyes had been glassy before she passed out. Her body was fighting a virulent infection and her injuries had weakened her. Each time she lost consciousness, John worried it would be the last and she wouldn’t wake up again. She needed medical help. And she needed it fast.
He glanced around the mine. They were in an older part, one that had obviously been exhausted of its resources. The only men in the area now were members of the Martinez cartel. In the distance, closer to the river, he saw the busyness of mineworkers, dredging the sandy banks in search of more gold. Beast knew they wouldn’t help them. They were captors, the same as him and Belinda, men at the mercy of the gangs.
He spat mud out of his mouth as he watched a small tractor drag something through the mine, something the Martinez brothers were salivating over. Behind Beast, the guard had lost interest in watching him, although he still kept his gun trained on Beast’s head. In his lap, Belinda stirred.
Beast look
ed down at her. She was beautiful to him, inside and out. He wished he could tell her how important she’d become to him during their intense trek through the jungle. He wished he could take back his reaction when she’d asked to spend time with him after this was over. He wished he could comfort her and let her know how much she comforted him. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not in this place.
She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “John,” she whispered.
Her blue eyes softened when she looked at him, and he knew it couldn’t be an act. They were past acting. The jungle had stripped them raw, and nothing was hidden any longer.
“You okay, baby?” It was a stupid question, but it was all he had.
“I want to go home.” Her eyes filled with tears, and John knew she didn’t hold out any hope of it happening.
“Put them against the hut and come help,” Diego shouted to the guard behind them, the one who was more interested in the tractor than in guarding them.
The man didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Belinda’s arm, pulled her to her feet and thrust her against the ragged little hut that sat a few feet behind them. She landed with a thump and a cry of pain. John clenched his teeth, flexed his bound fists and silently promised retribution to the grinning guard. The guard turned to grab John, but he was already on his feet. He strode to Belinda and sat at her side. The guard smirked before he called to a man near them, telling him to cover the captives, and then he went to help his bosses.
Belinda was crying as she curled into Beast’s side.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He was sorry he hadn’t been able to protect her better. Sorry she’d been hurt. Sorry he couldn’t think of a way out of this mess.
“It’s okay,” she said.
And then she slumped against him again. Beast looked up into the laughing face of the guard who now held a gun on him.
“No stamina,” the man said. “White girls never have enough stamina.”
Beast wished he could wipe every single one of these men from the face of the earth. He scanned the area looking for some way out. Someone who could help. Anything to get them out of this mess alive.
And then he felt it.
He froze. Belinda’s fingers were working the knot on the rope that secured his hands behind his back.
He looked down at her. She seemed completely unconscious, exactly as she had been earlier. She lay against him, her head hanging, her limbs limp. All except for the hand behind his back. The one picking at the ropes.
Chapter 30
“We’ve got four hostiles standing watch at the treeline,” Lake said over the comm system Ryan had in his ear.
Ryan had fought to take part in the mission this time around. His arm was still in a sling, but he couldn’t stay at the hotel while everything was going down in the jungle. In the end, Lake had agreed to let him man the second boat, to free up someone else for the on-the-ground search party.
He’d been sitting in that boat, idling on the river around the bend from the gold mine, for hours. After the team had regrouped and refuelled, they’d split into teams and Callum and Ryan had dropped them off on the riverbank, as close to the mine as they could get without tipping off the Martinez crew. The teams had then made their way on foot, through the jungle, to the mine.
It was late in the morning now. The teams had been on the ground for hours. They had to be exhausted. Yet they carried on, fuelled by adrenalin and determination. Ryan felt the tension build with each update he received. One way or another, things were coming to a climax soon.
“Six on the south side,” Dimitri reported.
“Eyes on target?” Callum said from his spot on the opposite side of the horseshoe where he manned the other boat.
“Nothing yet,” Dimitri said.
“Nothing,” Lake said.
“No,” Grunt said.
Ryan picked up his satphone. Elle was keeping the line open for them. “Anything showing at your end?” he asked.
“No signal coming from their broadcast unit,” she said.
Which meant that whatever the Martinez cartel had planned for Beast and Belinda, it hadn’t started yet.
“We’ve got trouble at base,” Violet said over the satphone. “The press has arrived. We’ve got four helicopters on the hotel lawn.”
Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand. It had been expected, but he didn’t have to like it. Mainly he was just grateful that they’d turned up later than expected.
“Get the hotel security staff to deal with them,” he said. “Secure everyone in the ballroom. Make sure you have all the Collins family where you can see them, in case one of them decides to hold a press conference.”
“It’s being done,” Violet said tersely. “I know what I’m doing. This was a courtesy call.”
Ryan let out a sigh. Just what Benson Security needed—another team member with a chip on their shoulder and a permanent bad attitude.
“Eyes on target,” Grunt said, and Ryan’s heart almost exploded from his chest.
“Report,” Lake barked.
“They’re in the centre of the camp. Bound. Wounded. Belinda is unconscious.”
Ryan knew every member of his team was wondering the same thing—had they arrived too late?
“Status on the ground?” Callum said.
“Twelve hostiles surrounding the targets,” Grunt said. “All armed. Miners in the pits nearest the river.”
“Can you get to the targets?” Lake asked.
“Negative,” Grunt said.
“I need more detail,” Lake said.
Noah said, “They’re out in the open, about a hundred feet from the treeline and surrounded by mud pools. There’s a digger dragging some equipment up from the river to the site of the targets. The brothers are focused on that and not on our people.”
“Has to be the broadcast unit,” Ryan said.
“We don’t have a clear view,” Noah replied.
“Five more hostiles joined the party over here,” Dimitri said.
“We got boats coming in fast,” Callum reported.
“No time to waste. Move in,” Lake said. “Keep it quiet.”
“Roger,” each signed off before going silent.
Ryan felt an itch under his skin that demanded action, but this was as close as he’d get to seeing any. He had to trust his team to get the job done and get their people out of there—before the Martinez brothers managed to broadcast the situation around the world.
Chapter 31
Beast felt the rope around his wrists loosen, and he could have kissed Belinda. Not one person looking at them would have guessed she was awake and working to free them. He made a silent vow that if they got out of there alive, he would never again say anything derogatory about her acting skills. The woman was extraordinary.
“To the left of us, behind the shack, there’s another hole,” he whispered, trying to hide that he was talking from their guards. “You hear me, babe?”
She patted his back to let him know she’d heard.
“When I make my move, run for the hole and jump in. Take cover. I’ll get you when it’s over.”
She tensed for a second before hanging limp again. Then she started writing letters with her fingertip on the back of his shirt.
N. O.
“You have to,” he said, hoping she would hear his urgency. “I can’t fight and watch you at the same time. You have to trust me. I’ll get us out of here.”
Her finger moved again. G.U.N.S.
“I’ll take care of them,” he promised. Somehow.
His plan was to pummel a guard, remove his weapon and fire on anything that moved. Simple. But hopefully enough to get them out of there. The river was too far away; their only option was making it back into the trees and hiding until help came. Because he knew help would come, and they had to be alive when it did.
He scanned the surrounding area, trying not to make it obvious what he was doing. He counted at least fifteen men, all armed and all ta
king orders from the Martinez brothers. There was no way he could fight his way out of the situation with Belinda being ill. Their best hope was to hit hard and fast, then run and hide.
“Baby,” he whispered, “if something happens to me, if it doesn’t look like I’ll make it, head for the forest. Hide until the team from Benson Security find you. They’re looking for you. I promise you that. All you have to do is stay alive until they find you. Promise me. Promise me you’ll do what I tell you. Promise me you’ll run if it looks bad.”
The answer was fast in coming. Her fingers stabbed at his back.
N.O.
“Damn it, Belinda. Do as I fucking tell you.”
N.O.
He let out a frustrated hiss. Her hand was shaking as she wrote another word on his back.
L.I.V.E.
“That’s what I’m telling you, you stubborn woman.”
They sat in silence as Beast kept an eye on the men charged with watching them. Their attention kept straying to the vehicle making its way through the mud towards them.
He let out heavy breath. “We both live. We do what it takes.”
She gave him a little nod that he barely felt, but definitely registered. All he could do was hope that she ran when she saw he was gone. Because, given the odds, Beast didn’t think the fight he had planned would achieve much more than create a diversion for Belinda to get away.
The guard turned back to them, and Beast couldn’t risk saying anything more, even though there were things to say. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. How much their time together had changed him. He wanted to tell her that she made him want to let go of his prejudices and be a better man. He wanted her to know that he’d made a mistake. She was right. Whatever they’d forged between them in the jungle was too important to end when they left it. He wanted a chance with her to see where it went. He’d never wanted anything more in his life. But the time for telling her these things had passed.
Now, all they had was one last desperate bid for survival.
Ransom (Benson Security Book 4) Page 22