by Неизвестный
"Coffee," Sherlock said. "We might as well start making some. We're just going to have to wait for the sheriff. You do think she's coming to check on us, don't you?"
"I don't think they're going to let us just sit here and snooze all night, Sherlock," Savich said. "They're going to come for us."
"Interesting how they got off at least a dozen shots at us, Laura, and missed. Don't you think that's strange?"
"They don't want us dead for some reason?" Savich said, a dark eyebrow hoisted up an inch. "Maybe not," I said.
In the next instant, all three windows across the front of the cottage imploded, spewing in shattered glass, tattered bits of curtains, and heavy metal canisters that struck the floor and rolled. They made loud popping noises and gushed out smoke. The smoke was something caustic, bitter, something that burned the very air, something that burned the breath in your mouth.
There was no time. I looked at Laura, who was staring down at one of those small egg-shaped gray cylinders that was releasing a steady stream of the pale blue smoke not six feet away from her.
"It's ice acid," she said. "I'm sorry, guys. I'm very, very sorry."
I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. I opened my mouth, inhaled some of the ice acid, and thought my tongue would burn off. I wanted to yell with the pain, but my throat was burned closed. I was shutting down and it was the strangest feeling. I was beginning to feel cold, my mouth was numb, my teeth chattering. That's why they called it ice acid. It did that to you before it laid you flat.
Before I closed my eyes, I saw Savich holding Sherlock tightly against him, his head against the top of hers. Laura was on her side on the floor, her legs drawn up. She wasn't moving. I tried to get to her. Then I couldn't see her. My eyes were freezing shut, tears seeping out, ice cold on my cheeks. I wanted to tell Savich that we had to get out of here.
Then I didn't feel a thing.
Chapter Twenty
I knew I was awake because I heard myself moaning. But there wasn't any pain. Laura was calling my name, over and over. "Mac, don't do this. Please, please, Mac, stop. Wake up!"
I opened my eyes and stared down into Laura's face. "Oh God, you're awake. Mac, you've got to stop."
For a moment I didn't know what she was talking about. Stop what? "Mac, please, get away. Stop it, Mac."
No, I wasn't feeling any pain, but what I was feeling was harsh and real. It was shattering me. I didn't understand it.
"Mac, wake up!"
I was on top of her. She was naked and I was naked as well and between her legs. I was poised to come into her. I felt such overwhelming lust, I didn't think I could stop.
"Laura, my God, Laura."
"Mac, stop!"
"Oh, God, I don't think I can." I was panting, trying to slow the movement of my body. The urge to come into her was killing me. I locked my muscles and yelled. I wasn't going to rape her. I wasn't. The need to do just that was beyond what I could understand. It was pushing me, driving me, and I yelled again, trying to get hold, to get my mind, my will, back. I could feel her flesh against me and I didn't think I could hold back.
I looked down at her, saw she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"NO!" I yelled, my head thrown back.
I jerked myself off her, falling beside her on the wooden floor. I lay there panting, cursing, feeling the urge to come inside her pounding through my body.
"Mac."
Her voice seemed a long way away, but I knew she was lying beside me.
"Are you all right?"
There wasn't any more fear in her voice, just relief. I turned onto my side to face her. She was looking at me, and she was smiling. It was then I saw that her hands were tied over her head, her legs open and tied at the ankles. She was helpless. I wasn't. I wasn't quite naked. I still had on my running shoes and shirt.
I took deep breaths, over and over, just kept sucking in air and blowing out, trying desperately to clear my mind.
I reached out my hand to touch her, then pulled it back. I wasn't strong enough yet.
Tears were still on her cheeks. I couldn't bear it. I touched her then, wiping the tears away with my fingers. "I'm so sorry, Laura. What happened?"
"They drugged us."
I made the mistake of looking down her body. I gritted my teeth and rolled away. I was still hard. I jumped to my feet, grabbed my clothes off the floor, and quickly pulled my shorts and pants on.
I felt more normal now that I was dressed. Fight it, I said to myself over and over. Just fight it.
I came down on my knees beside her. Her legs were wide apart, her ankles tied to small rings fastened in the floor.
"I'm sorry," I said. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize, didn't know-"
"You weren't the one who tied me down, Mac. I'm all right. You managed to stop."
My hands were shaking. It took awhile for me to untie the knots around her wrists and ankles. Slowly, she pulled her legs together and sat up. She was rubbing her wrists. "Thank you, Mac."
"Where are your clothes?"
"I don't know."
I stripped off my shirt and handed it to her. As I watched her pull it on and fasten the buttons, my mind started to feel heavy and dull. The urge to have her was receding now. I could control it.
She rose and walked to the narrow bed in the corner of the small room we were in. My shirt came down to her thighs. She sat on the side of the bed, rubbing her wrists.
I sat beside her. I wasn't about to touch her. I was afraid that if I did, I'd lose it again. "Tell me what happened. Where are we?"
"I don't speak Spanish so I don't know what they were saying.
"You were awake but still very groggy. I watched them inject you." She shuddered.
I pulled her against me, holding her tightly. "We beat them," I said as I rubbed her back, "we're both all right."
She said against my shoulder, "I think it was all a game to them. They wanted to have some fun. They took my clothes and tied me down. Then they set you on me like a stallion over a mare. They put your face between my legs. When they pulled you back, they were laughing. Then one of the men, probably the leader, said something and they left us alone." She was silent again. I kissed her hair, kept rubbing her back. "It's all right," I said.
"Only because you came out of it enough to see what you were doing. I didn't think you'd be able to stop, Mac. Oh God, it was awful."
She'd been tied down, naked, helpless. I closed my eyes a moment against the enormity of it. If I hadn't been able to stop myself, then- 'They wanted me to rape you?"
"Apparently. Funny thing, knowing it was you but that you weren't really there made it worse. You weren't my Mac. You were a stranger who didn't care who I was. You had my scent, knew I was female, and that was enough. That drug was in control."
"The drug," I said slowly. "Remember you told me the drug had some effect on sex?"
"Yes. This had to be it, what we've been looking for. They used it on you to see what it would do to you."
I wanted to kill them. They'd treated us like animals. We'd been used for sport to see what the damned drug would do.
"They probably gave you a lot more than one would inject for a sex high."
"That figures. I didn't really feel like I was having the time of my life."
I felt her smile against my shoulder. I squeezed her. "Did they hurt you?"
"Not that I can tell. I don't know how long we've been out. But they brought me out of it with smelling salts.
They wanted me fully awake when they set you on me. God, Mac, it was awful. I couldn't do anything and you were gone. Then I saw you come back, just a bit, and that's when I talked to you until finally you got control back."
"Do you know where we are?"
"No. I've just been clearheaded for about an hour. It's night, I do know that much. My watch says it's just a bit after ten."
There were no windows in the small room. It was nearly square, not more than twelve by twelve. There was just the one sing
le bed, an ancient rag rug beside it, and a toilet and sink in the far corner.
"It was about eight at night when they threw the ice acid into the cottage," I said.
"So how much time has passed? Hours? A day? I don't know, Mac. But I'll tell you one thing. Right now if I had my gun, I swear I'd blow off the head of the first man who came through the door. I just can't believe what they did. And they laughed about it."
"How many?"
"There were three men, then the man I think was their leader came in and made them leave." She paused a moment, then added, "They were all speaking Spanish. I doubt we're still in Oregon."
"Mexico, maybe," I said.
"Could be," she agreed. "Or Colombia. Remember the DBA agent who was tortured and murdered in Mexico some years ago? And nothing at all happened?"
I held her away from me. "Listen up, Laura. Don't think like that. It does no good. You haven't seen Sher-lock or Savich?"
She shook her head. "When I woke up, I was alone.
When they brought me here to this room, it was empty. I don't know where they were keeping you, but two of the men half-dragged you in here. It was like you were in a stupor. They tossed you on that bed and injected you. Five minutes later they put you on me. They're animals."
"I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gotten control? The way I felt, I would have kept at it until I was dead or the drug finally wore off. Maybe that's what they wanted to see. I wonder if they were laying bets."
She pulled back. "But you stopped yourself, Mac."
I kissed her mouth. I smoothed back her hair, lightly ran my thumb over her eyebrows. "I finally realized it was you. I love you, Laura. I couldn't have hurt you."
"Well then, let's take care of this mess and then get married. Can we do that, Mac?"
I couldn't believe it had taken me until I was twenty-nine years old to find this woman. I kissed the tip of her nose. "In exactly that order."
I looked over to the small rings screwed into the wooden floor. Had they done this before? Brought in some women and taken turns, enjoying the hell out of it? The drug was something. I was still hard.
I looked at Laura again. Her hair was curtaining her face, hanging long and loose, real shiny. I couldn't believe it. "They combed your hair?"
"Yes," she said, not looking at me. "More than that even. They bathed me, washed my hair, and sprayed some perfume on me. They let two women do this while they watched. Neither of the women spoke any English. Then they brought me to this room. I got the feeling that they've done this before with other women."
I pulled her close again, and this time I really smelled the musk on her. I felt a wave of lust. It wasn't overpowering, but I didn't want to test myself. "I'm thirsty," I said. Just having a bit of distance between us made it easier. I walked to the sink. It was as ancient as the rug by the bed, cracked and rusted. But the water was cool enough and clear. I washed my face. Laura's scent was gone. The heavy feeling in my brain was easing. I could think more than one thought at a time now, glean more than one impression. But my only thought was that I wanted to kill them. I couldn't seem to get beyond that and I knew I had to. We had to get out of here.
Laura stood up. "Did you walk away because the drug hit you again?"
"Yeah, but it's better now. Don't worry about me." Then I shook my head and said, "No, forget that. If I start looking at you funny, or talking funny, anything that isn't right, you get away from me, fast. If you can't, knock me silly. Protect yourself. All right?"
She studied my face for a long time, then nodded. When she walked toward me, I took an outside route back to the bed. I said while she was cupping water in her hands, "We've got to figure out how to get out of this bloody room."
We both looked at the one door, no windows.
"Do you think they'll feed us?" I was starving, my stomach nearly beyond the growling stage, but that wasn't the point. "If they bring us food, we'll have a chance to get out of here."
They fed us, not ten minutes later. The door simply unlocked, very quickly, and a young boy carrying two big plates in his skinny arms walked in. Behind him stood another man holding an AK-47 at the ready. He didn't come into the room, just stood there in the doorway, aiming his weapon at my belly, watchful and ready.
I don't even think I heard them close and lock the door. My eyes were on the food. There were stacks of soft tortillas and beans, strips of beef, and thick pepper-and-onion-filled potatoes. I was so hungry it tasted as good as anything I'd ever eaten.
They left a large pitcher of cold water. We drank the whole thing since the peppers were hotter than pitch. There wasn't a bit of food left. Laura looked down at the empty plates and said, "I hope we don't get sick from stuffing ourselves."
"Not a pretty thought," I said, remembering the Mon-tezuma's revenge that had me dehydrated and ten pounds lighter a couple of years before when I'd been fishing off Cozumel. "One guy with an AK-47. I think we should move over by the door so that if he comes alone again, we'll have a chance at the guy with the gun."
Laura nodded. "There's only this one skinny pillow and the blanket. I'll mold them under the sheet. Maybe for an instant they'll think we're on the bed, asleep."
We did that and stood back to look at our handiwork. "Not very good," I said, "but hopefully it'll work. Which side of the door would you like?"
I ended up on the side of the lock, Laura behind the door. She'd taken off the heavy porcelain toilet lid and held it against her chest.
"They must know that we won't be sitting here idle," she said. "They'll expect us to try something. It's even possible that they're watching us even now."
I'd thought the same thing. I got up and went over that small room, inch by inch. I didn't see anything that remotely resembled a camera lens or a peephole. I sat back down. "I sure to God hope that Sherlock and Savich are all right."
"Maybe Sherlock's sitting by the door as we speak, a toilet lid hugged to her chest."
We waited. For a very long time. We slept. We awoke early the next morning. My watch read about 6:30 A.M.
We took turns using the toilet and washing up. At exactly seven o'clock, we heard them coming.
Chapter Twenty-One
A key turned in the lock. The door slowly opened. But no one said a word, no one moved in. A canister of gas rolled through the doorway. I jumped to my feet, grabbed the thing up, and threw it in the toilet. I flushed it. Smoke gushed out of the bowl. I slammed down the toilet seat. Thankfully it contained most of the smoke. I'd inhaled only a bit. I didn't feel a thing.
I heard a man laugh. I turned to look at the two men who stood watching me from the doorway.
"/Asi se hace!" one of them said. He had a deep bass voice. He was a short, wiry, dark man, dressed in army fatigues, like his partner. He said in strongly accented English this time, "Si, that was well done. We knew you would be waiting for us. And now you have finished. Move." He waved the AK-47 toward me. "The woman is still sleeping? You wore her out, eh?"
I took a step, watching the men. The man with the bass voice raised his weapon, but he didn't say anything more because Laura rose up, whipped around the side of the door, and smashed him in the face with the porcelain toilet lid.
The other man leaped through the doorway, his eyes on Laura, his AK-47 up, ready to fire.
I yelled and ran straight at him. He whipped the gun around, only to moan and fall hard to the floor when Laura hit him hard on his temple with the porcelain toilet lid.
The first man tried to struggle up. Laura calmly leaned over and smashed him hard again with the toilet lid. Then she kicked both of them hard in the ribs.
"Close the door quick," I said. I grabbed the larger man under his arms and began dragging him inside the room. Laura grabbed the other guy.
I picked up one of the AK-47s and looked out the door. There was a long narrow corridor on either side of the room. No one else was in sight.
"We need their clothes," I said.
Five minutes later, we
were buttoning our camouflage pants and lacing up our combat boots. Laura had ripped the sleeves off my white shirt to stuff in the toes of her boots. She stamped her feet a couple of times and smiled at me. "Good fit now. I'm glad one of the men was bigger. The fatigues nearly fit you."
It took us longer to tie up the men. Laura stripped them both to their skin and tied one of each of their legs to the rings in the floor where she'd been shackled. She rose and dusted her hands and looked at me.
"Okay, let's get out of here. Savich and Sherlock have got to be somewhere close by."