What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

by Lexi Buchanan

  Kadir picked up Dexter by the throat. The dog yelped. Reaching her arms out, she tried to get to him, but the guard held her back. “Let him go.”

  “After I kill your dog, I’ll kill your neighbor and burn down these townhouses. And don’t forget your brother. So, my little slave, will you come with me?”

  “Fine.”

  “Excuse me? Is that how you answer your master?”

  Her stomach roiled. “Yes, sir,” she spat out between clenched teeth.

  Kadir put Dexter down, and the dog curled up, shaking, in his bed.

  “Better. Now, say, ‘Thank you, Master, for not killing me.’” He held the gun to Zoe’s head.

  Hot and cold slithered up her skin. This was it. He was going to kill her. Jason. So much she wanted to tell him. She loved him and had never had the chance to tell him. And Damien. She couldn’t help him either. Her throat constricted, and tears burned in her eyes.

  “Say it,” he ordered.

  “Thank you, Master, for not killing me.” She held her breath and waited for the click.

  He put the gun down. “See, slave? I can be a forgiving Master.”

  The guard stood behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. The sharp prick of a needle jabbed into her neck was unexpected. All her muscles went limp, and her vision blurred. Then everything went black.

  It was well after midnight by the time Jason signed out of the hospital. The doctor had given him an envelope of pain meds to hold him over until he could get his prescription filled. A temporary cast supported his hand, but it throbbed and hurt like hell after all the probing and X-rays. The X-rays had shown two small fractures. He had an appointment to see an orthopedic doctor in the morning.

  “You want me to drive you?” Tyler asked. “Didn’t they give you something for the pain?”

  Jason held up the small yellow envelope. “I haven’t taken any yet. I will when I get to Zoe’s.” He took out his phone and checked his messages. “No frigging service in hospitals. We might as well be in the middle of the jungle.”

  “It works in the lobby. I’ve checked in with Secret Service, and Kadir is at his hotel now.”

  On the way out the door, Jason’s phone buzzed with messages. Zoe had sent a text a couple of hours ago. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What is it?” Tyler asked.

  “Zoe said she changed her mind and was coming to the hospital to wait for me. The text was over an hour ago.”

  Tyler stopped walking. “We’ll take my car. It’ll be faster.”

  Both his and Tyler’s phone buzzed.

  Before they reached the street where Frank had directed them, they saw a plume of smoke swirl up in a night sky illuminated by city lights. Emergency lights from several fire trucks and police cars flickered across the buildings and stopped traffic. The area was blocked off by police. Flames and black smoke billowed out of the windows of a small hybrid car. It couldn’t be Zoe’s.

  “God, no, no, no.” Jason jumped out of the car before Tyler stopped. He ran to the scene and was stopped by police. Jason identified himself and showed his ID. He ran to the ambulance. The gurney was there but no body. He stared back at the car. “Where is she?” he shouted at a police officer blocking his path.

  The heat singed his skin, and the smoke reeked of oil and rubber. The firemen doused the flames, and a ball of black smoke billowed into the sky. Two policemen ordered a crowd of onlookers to get back. Frank came over and stood in front of Jason. “Hold on. We don’t know yet if she was in there.” Frank made a call on his cell while remaining a barricade to Jason. “I’ve sent security to her house.”

  Jason nodded, unable to take his gaze away from the car. Please don’t let her be in there.

  Once the smoke cleared, firemen pried the trunk open. He held his breath as he waited for confirmation. The fireman slammed the trunk down. Jason let his breath out. Several firemen used pry bars to open the doors. If they didn’t say something soon, he’d kick the crap out of them.

  “No one’s in the car,” the fire chief announced. The man smiled. He had no idea what that meant. The news was brief comfort, though. If not here, then where? She was in danger.

  Jason and Frank exchanged glances. “Where the hell is she?” Jason asked.

  “We’ll start at her house.”

  “Send someone to Kadir’s hotel and his private jet,” Jason added. “Do not allow that jet to take off.”

  “An all points bulletin has already gone out,” Frank said. “We’ll question Kadir and start looking for her. If he abducted her, they couldn’t have gone far.”

  When they got to Zoe’s house, Dexter bowed his head low and whimpered when Jason approached him. He picked him up. “She’s not here either, but I bet someone was. Her dog is shaking. He never does this.”

  Frank’s phone rang, and he answered it. “At the hotel? Has no idea? Yeah, right. Thanks.” He gave Jason a worried look. “Kadir’s at his hotel, getting ready to leave the country. His jet is still at the airport. The plane was searched. Zoe isn’t there. She’s vanished.

  “Kadir was at the Kennedy Center all night with his aides,” Frank went on. “We had him watched all night. He couldn’t have left.”

  Tyler entered the townhouse. “We’ve questioned the neighbor. She said a man delivered flowers around six, and she let him in but watched him leave.”

  “Kadir must’ve hired someone to leave a window open or the back door unlocked,” Frank said, making a face. “But how did he do it so fast?”

  “Unless he planned it before he even got here,” Jason said. “Did the neighbor see a delivery truck?”

  Tyler nodded. “And later she saw a black sedan sitting out front. She thought it had to do with Zoe’s work so ignored it.”

  Frank’s phone buzzed, and he answered it. He swore after talking to the person. “Is he okay? Good. This changes things. I’ll let you know.” He rubbed his forehead then ended the call.

  “What?” Jason asked.

  “The AV guy for the Red Tape Room was knocked out. He said it was Zoe. The video has been erased.”

  “Fuck. Why the hell would she do this?” Jason placed his hands on his head. Another mission screwed, and Zoe might die this time. It was his fault for getting her into this.

  “Any chance she made a copy for Kadir?” Frank asked.

  “For what purpose?” Jason paced her living room with Dexter at his heels. He stopped.

  “He found out about the recording and threatened her?” Tyler suggested. “He threatened to kill her like Alana was killed.”

  “Damien,” Jason said. “Her brother’s in Iran. Kadir must have him.”

  Frank started making a call. “I’ll ask General Guzman to look into it. I’ll have to let Rowland and Julia know. She probably compromised the mission and the FLC.”

  “She didn’t,” Jason argued. “Whoever the mole is did.”

  Frank got another call. When he was done, he explained to Jason. “Johnny Vargas is at the airport. Kadir is making a stink about being delayed. We can’t hold him.”

  “We’re wasting time.” Jason had to keep his focus. “She can’t be far. If Kadir doesn’t have her hidden at the airport, he had someone else take her.” Jason was reliving a nightmare. He had sworn this would never happen again if they got out of Langley. “Fuck!”

  “Why would the bastard want the recording? I can understand him wanting it destroyed. And why take Zoe?” Tyler gripped his shoulder. “Why go through the scene at all if you know you’re being recorded?”

  Frank and Jason stared at each other, and reality clicked at the same time by the look in Frank’s eyes. “Could Kadir have been planning this before the Red Tape Room?” Jason asked. “He met Zoe at the welcome reception, and he danced with her. The guy has his secret harem of slaves. What if he planned to take Zoe all along as his sex slave? When he learned about Red Tape, he decided he could use that against the US.” Jason swore and gripped the back of the couch.

  “Kadir woul
dn’t use the recording,” Frank argued. “You all wear masks anyway, right?”

  Tyler shook his head. “The unedited tape might have the participants without masks and clips of the first lady in the room. She brought him in and escorted him out. If Kadir has that copy, he has a high-resolution video of the first lady in a BDSM dungeon.”

  “When Kadir’s slaves stop pleasing him, he sells them to white traders or kills them,” Jason said, more to himself. How good of an actor could Zoe be and for how long?

  “Easy, man. We’ll find her.”

  Flashing blue and red lights from outside lit up the living room. There was a knock at the door. Tyler stayed with Jason while Frank went to the door. “We have company. We’ll coordinate our efforts with local and state authorities, get her photo out there.”

  Frank checked his watch. “Just after midnight, so she’s been missing at least four hours.” He patted Jason on the back. “She was CIA. She’s smart and trained.”

  Jason shot Frank a look. “I know. That’s not why I’m worried. It’s the moment they find out she’s former CIA.”

  Zoe forced open her eyes, but she couldn’t focus. Shadows swam in her view, and her stomach roiled. Please don’t be sick. Think logically.

  Her mind and thoughts kept drifting, and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. Her mind floated through the shadows. Dreaming. She was dreaming she was in her bed, and Jason had his arm around her.

  No. Wake up.

  Forcing her eyes open again, she tried to stare at one point across the room until her vision cleared.

  The room came into view. It was rectangular, no windows. A four-foot fluorescent light hung ten feet above her. The room was probably around fifteen or twenty feet long. A storage area or basement of some kind? The small mattress beneath her lay on the floor, and a blanket covered her. At least they wanted her somewhat comfortable.

  Sitting up made her head spin, and she waited until the nausea passed. Her muscles felt sore and weak. From the drugs and partly from her encounter with Kadir? How long ago was that? She had no sense of time of day. Listening, she heard mechanical equipment and felt a vibration. Metal studs framed the room. Even the floor appeared metal. Maybe she was in the basement of a building, near a boiler room. When she tried to stand, the tug on her left arm caught her off balance, and she fell back on the mattress.

  What the hell? Handcuffs clamped around her left wrist, attached by a length of chain to a thick eyebolt in the center of the room. She yanked on it but knew it wouldn’t give. Testing the length, she walked from one end to the other, where there was a door with a sliding latch bolt. Probably locked. It didn’t matter since she couldn’t reach it.

  Inside the room, she found boxes with bottled water, protein bars and apples. Under a tarp was a Porta John with toilet paper. Oh joy. They expected to keep her here awhile, several days by the supplies.

  She rubbed her neck where Kadir’s man had jabbed her with the needle. It was still sore, and she felt dizzy walking. Maybe from lack of food and water. No telling how long she had been out. The bottled water looked sealed, untampered with, and the protein bars looked okay, too, as far as she could tell. She tasted a small piece of a bar and drank some water. Her throat was so parched she could hardly swallow. Dehydration would kill her before anything else.

  After she ate a couple of bars and drank more water, she felt better, but her head still swam a bit. The aftereffects of the drug they’d used on her might take days to wear off. Did Jason and the FLC have any idea she was missing? They must by now and know what she’d done. But did they have any idea where she was? If she was still in Washington, she wouldn’t know. She couldn’t hear truck or car traffic outside. Except for the boilers, she couldn’t hear anything. And Damien…would a madman keep his word?

  First thing she had to do was get out of the handcuffs. They hadn’t taken her hoop earrings. She removed one, bent it straight and poked at the latch. After several tries, the lock released. Rubbing her wrist, she marched straight for the door and tried the metal latch. It wouldn’t budge. It was held by riveted bolts. Unlikely she’d be able to pry them loose. The walls around the door had a fine covering of insulation. A cool breeze flowed through. She ripped at the spongy material and found a louver vent underneath. The vent appeared new compared to the dirty walls. Had they been expecting her company and didn’t want her to suffocate? After taking the other handcuff off the chain, she used the edge as a screwdriver and took off the covering. A few feet in front was another metal wall. This had to be some kind of storage unit, a shed or a room in a warehouse.

  She climbed out, figuring once she escaped she’d run until she found a public place. Outside, she breathed in fresh air that had an odd smell. With any luck, she’d find a gas station or a road where she could stop a trucker or get to a phone, something. She’d contact Jason and let him know she was okay. Had they realized she was missing yet?

  It was dark, but a strange light shone from above. She stood outside her prison, looking up into a night sky. A brilliant moon and stars. She took a breath and relaxed a little. Thank God, she was outside. Her prison had been a storage unit, and another one stood a few feet in front of her. In the dim light, she saw rows of them. She crept around the corner of her unit and froze. Zoe’s lungs constricted as she tried to breathe. Blinking several times, she wondered if she was hallucinating, then wished she was.

  A whimper came to her lips. As far as she could see, in every direction, she was surrounded by water. She was on a freighter ship in the middle of the ocean. The reality of her situation careened through her mind. A gust of wind swept over her, and her teeth chattered. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, only the dress blouse and slacks she had on when she left the White House. Flashes of memories shot through her mind. Kadir with Dexter on his lap, her handing him the thumb drive, Kadir hitting her, pain in her neck, darkness and voices, then nothing. Her body shook violently now, from the cold and the anger at what she knew Kadir had planned for her. She might be going a little shocky, too, so she needed to find warmth. She rubbed her arms. The damp sea air coated her skin.

  Standing along the railing of the ship, she had a better view of the stacks and rows of storage containers. Her prison was at the bottom of a tower of other containers with several towers side by side. There must be hundreds or over a thousand containers on board. The mechanical noise she’d heard was the freighter’s engines. Since she couldn’t see lights on the coastline, the ship had to be at least forty miles offshore. Even if she could get a cell phone, she wouldn’t have service. But these ships did have Internet connections and a radio.

  What kind of deal had Kadir made with the men in charge of the freighter? She had to assume they knew she was on board as private cargo. How much had he paid for her passage? Passage to where?

  Survival mode kicked in as she considered her resources and options. Assess the situation and make a plan. Determine her location and direction and communicate with her team, or anyone who could rescue her.

  As she crept along the deck toward the bridge at the stern, she tried to find something that told her what ship she was on. Lifeboats bore the words Cape Sienna. Spotlights shone onto a large blue smokestack with an orange S on the side. Far in the distance she saw lights on the water. An island? It was a cruise ship moving away at an angle and fast. Too far away to be of any help. The sky was partially clear, and by the stars, she estimated she was heading east. Even this much information wouldn’t make it easy for them to find her.

  Examining one of the lifeboats, she checked out the rigging and crane work. Then she looked over the port side. Even in the dark, she could see that a white wake churned along the hull of the ship. It was moving too fast to attempt to drop the lifeboat, even if she could operate the crane.

  Footsteps on deck made her jump. She ducked behind a stairway, hiding in the shadows. A crewman walked up the deck, making his rounds, she assumed. She made her way toward the bow in the opposite direction, opened a door and
went inside. Climbing stairs, she listened and peered around the doorway to the next level. The hallway was empty for the moment. She had no idea what time it was. Was the crew having dinner or asleep? She crept up the stairs to the top level, where the bridge was, and noticed two men in the control room, one at a wheel steering and another at a control panel. The radio was above the man steering the ship. The chances of her fighting off both men before she could get a call out and the rest of the crew stormed in weren’t good. Sweat rolled down her neck, and she shivered as a gust of wind blew through the open windows.

  She was on a ship full of men, and she had no weapons and very little nautical knowledge, nowhere to run. She was from Ohio, so she knew her way around forests and farms, not boats. Quietly, she backed up and returned down the metal steps. From one level, she heard voices. She traversed the passage and peeked into a crew dining area and lounge. Four men were sitting around a table playing cards and drinking something alcoholic by the looks of the amber liquid. Another man, stretched out on a sofa, was sound asleep. An old shark horror movie played in the background. A computer was set up on a desk in the corner, but she’d never get to it with those men in the way. A clock on the wall said one thirty. Good, the rest of the crew must be asleep. But how many?

  Someone ran up another set of stairs. Zoe waited, unsure which way to go. Then another person ascended from the other side. Trapped. She was frozen in fear, her heart pounding so hard she swore they could hear it. They had to know she was here, or missing from her container prison. She had to move, fight, run, something, anything. She shifted along the bulkhead until she reached a door, opened it and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

  Listening, she waited. The two men talked, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Then they continued down the hall.

  “Hey, where did you come from?” a man’s voice said from behind her.

  A chill frizzled up her back. She turned around inside the small stateroom. A young guy with wavy, black hair and who looked barely twenty lay on a bunk bed, a laptop propped across his thighs.