by Selena Kitt
He fought through the growing smoke to reach the sliding door his buddies had exited from less than an hour before. Now it was his turn to jump the several feet to the forest floor. The fire from the back of the craft was working its way forward and would be consuming the bird soon. He gave a final look at his baby before pulling the pack on his back and running for the nearby tree line for cover.
His family called him a human compass because he had the uncanny ability to sense what direction he was headed, regardless of terrain or even time of day. But knowing what direction he was going in didn't immediately help tonight. He knew he was due south of the planned rendezvous, but his little jaunt had now put him a full seven miles from where he needed to be in less than forty minutes. Even on flat terrain, he'd have trouble making that. On the mountainous tree-covered route he had in front of him, it was impossible.
That meant he had a few choices. He could look for a hiding spot and hunker down until the cavalry could arrive to save him. Just thinking of that option pissed him off. He didn't fucking need rescuing like some damsel in distress.
Or… he could make his way in the opposite direction, heading to their backup rendezvous location, and whoever they had driving their second 'bus' could make a second stop to pick him up. That option appealed to him much more until he realized it would mean heading back towards the Blanco residence. The same location where armed guards had shot the missile that had downed his craft.
He knew if he had any chance of making any pickup, he had to start moving. He let his instincts take over, turning towards the drug lord's mountaintop home. He didn't set a straight path, knowing the Blanco goons would be headed in the direction of the crash in order to verify that the pilot had bit the dust in the crash.
Too late he realized he should have blown up the helicopter in order to buy himself some time before they realized his charred body wasn't inside. He had just turned to head back to do just that when the explosion of the over half-full gas tank of the downed copter blew up. Despite being several dozen feet away, the wall of heat that hit him singed his face.
Well, Goddamn. I'm sure glad I boogied out of there, or I'd be toast. That should buy me some time, though.
His forward progress was slow through the thick underbrush of the forest floor. He would make better time if he took his flashlight out of his pack, but there was no way he wanted to send out a homing beacon to the assholes he knew were in the forest on their way to the crash site. No, he had to keep pressing forward.
There was a dull illumination ahead he suspected was the Blanco residence. As he got closer, he would catch quick glimpses of the spotlights flicking through the small openings between tree cover. The trajectory of the beams of light were now trained on the ground rather than the sky.
Thunder turned to the west, planning on steering clear of the walled location altogether. The headlights of a car broke the blackness and had him diving to crouch behind a thick line of bushes. He could make out several SUVs passing by on a paved road not twenty yards ahead. It was the only road to the mountaintop mansion of the crime lord, and he'd known he'd need to cross over it at some point to get to the rendezvous.
He inched forward, surprised when he could make out brake lights as the caravan screeched to a stop in the middle of the dark road.
He held his breath, afraid to make a sound. His brain knew there was no way they could possibly see him or know he was there, but he couldn't come up with any valid reason for their stopping. That was until he heard the high-pitched scream of a woman coming from the direction of the SUVs.
Well, that sucks. Sounds like she's in more trouble than I am.
He was close enough to hear the scuffle of someone being tackled to the ground. He wished his Spanish were better. All he could make out was a man cussing, presumably at the woman who had screamed.
The situation got worse when the sound of fists beating against flesh filled the hot air. The thought of a woman being beaten only feet away had a wave of nausea turning Zach's stomach. That she was being hurt was bad enough. That he was not in any position to help her made it worse.
Well, she should know better than to hang out with thugs and criminals. Everyone knew it was dangerous to play with fire.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sport.
Her screams of pain tortured him, but he remained as still as a statue, praying they would put her back in the SUV and keep driving; if not so he could keep moving forward, then to at least make the abuse stop.
It wasn't until her shouting reached his ears that he had to fight down the urge to puke.
"I'm going to kill you, you bastards. You can't kidnap me. I'm gonna cut your balls off and throw them at you."
Her loud rant was silenced with another punch and what sounded like a crack against the pavement.
Zachary's heart pounded so hard he thought it would fly out of his rib cage. He sprang into motion, moving silently until he was close enough to get eyes on the scene in the road. An armed gunman was just scooping up the lifeless body of a young woman from the pavement. Even with the distance, the light from the headlights shone off her pale white skin and illuminated her long, sandy blonde hair.
He cursed under his breath. His visual inspection supported his suspicion. She was no drug smuggler or gunrunner. She was an innocent victim. An innocent American victim.
"Fuck me."
* * *
The sound of men arguing in Spanish was the first thing that worked its way through Allison's hazy consciousness. She didn't immediately know what was happening, but the shooting pain in her jaw was an instant reminder of her dire situation. She didn't remember much since her capture, but she knew enough to know she was in deep shit.
Not wanting to alert those who might be nearby that she was awake, she was careful to lie still, trying to take stock of her situation. The pounding in her head confirmed that her memory of being slammed to the pavement, her skull connecting with a crack, was accurate.
She tried to move slightly, finding tight muscles bound by even tighter rope. The last time she had been unconscious, they had untied her. Apparently her little attempt to escape from the SUV had earned her a brand new set of restraints. She suspected they wouldn't be making that mistake again.
Allie was grateful they had removed the ratty old gag, yet her mouth was parched and tasted like there was a residue of gasoline lining her inner cheeks. Only the taste of her own coppery blood was stronger, remnants from biting the inside of her cheek when one of the assholes had backhanded her in the middle of the road.
When she was fairly confident no one was near her lifeless body, she dared to crack her eyes open a sliver, desperate to learn where she was being held, praying for a miracle that would get her out unscathed. Well… at least not worse than she already was.
"She's awake." The voice was so close it startled her.
The men arguing across the room froze in a standoff before turning in unison to walk towards the table they had her laid out on. It was then that she realized she recognized none of the menacing men surrounding her. At least a half dozen muscle-bound men closed around her, each one looking more like a mercenary than the last.
By the time her eyes connected with the man directly in front of her, Allison suspected she would not be getting out of there alive. While most of the men wore army fatigues and combat ready uniforms, the two men who had been arguing wore expensive suits. They looked ridiculously out of place in the interior of what felt like a warehouse or barn.
The taller of the two was handsome in a bad-boy millionaire sense of the word. Allie recognized the Invicta watch on his wrist and knew it had to have set him back at least three grand. The gold wedding band on his left ring finger shone in the clinical fluorescent lighting as he raised a fat cigar to his lips, taking a long drag as he let his eyes devour her body.
The second man in a suit was a few inches shorter, several years older, and not nearly as handsome as the first. Like the first, he wore a neatl
y trimmed goatee that gave him an air of respectability. His features reminded her of someone. In her traumatized state, it took her a few long seconds to realize the two men had to be brothers.
The taller man took control, speaking in perfect, yet heavily accented, English. "Welcome to Columbia, Miss Benson. My brother and I would like to extend our hospitality to you. We have some very exciting plans for your stay." His words were civilized—his hungry glare savage.
Allison wasn't sure if her voice would work or not. Her throat was dry and sore from the squeezing it had received at the hands of the assholes who had pulled her out of the taxi. Had that really just been a few hours ago? It felt like a lifetime. She tested her voice.
"No offense, but I'd like to pass on your hospitality. I demand you take me back to the university… immediately."
He scowled as he gave his verbal warning, "I suggest you keep your mouth closed unless asked a direct question. I'd hate to have to silence you."
The way he said 'silence' left her wondering exactly what he meant by the phrase. Still, she pressed her luck.
"Where am I, and who the hell are you?"
A look that could only be described as sadistic glee danced in his eyes at her question. She saw him nod to someone standing behind the table she was lying on, and within one second she'd been rolled from her back to her front. The ropes at her wrists cut into her flesh as she attempted to fight the positioning. She felt a line of fire ignite across her upturned ass. Her thin sundress and panties were no protection whatsoever.
The pain took her breath away. She was still trying to cope with it when she saw him nod again through her tears. This time was worse because she knew what was coming before it arrived. The second track of fire was laid out just below the original. Two parallel lines of agony were left as reminders not to speak.
The punishment was effective. It had her pressing her swollen lips together tightly; afraid to utter even a sound for fear it would result in another strike with the punishment implement.
He grinned, clearly pleased with her new cooperation. "Very good. I see you can be trained." His eyes didn't leave hers, but his words were meant for the man next to him. "She is perfect. I could have so much fun with her, and she could make me a fortune at my events. Surely you can see how rare this opportunity is. She is more valuable than any ransom her father will pay."
Not call for a ransom? They have to call for a ransom. How else will I get home?
The shorter man grumbled. "Her father is a man in power. We do not need the trouble she will bring to our doorstep if she is not returned."
It was easy to see the agitation on the taller brother's face.
His brother continued, unaffected by his brewing anger. "You have dozens of women to choose from."
"I will have her before she goes. Her pale skin marks beautifully, and I have several clients who will appreciate tasting forbidden treats before she is returned."
The elder brother sighed, rubbing his temples as if deep in thought. A full minute later, he answered, "Fine. We will set the exchange for the future to give you time to play with her, but on one condition."
The men tore their eyes off her to look at each other again. The shorter of the two spoke with passion. "She tests the new drug I've been developing. It's almost ready for production. I've tested it on willing participants with some success, but as the next generation date rape drug, we need to measure its impact on an unwilling victim or two."
It took all of Allie's self-control to hold in the scream forming from deep within. She needed to get the hell out of here before they started their frankensteinish experiments on her. She had no idea what the drugs would do to her, but she didn't intend to stick around to find out.
Allison struggled against the ropes wrapped around her wrists and ankles, frantic to break free. The men had turned back towards her. The taller took another drag on his cigar, his eyes turning almost black as undisguised lust overtook his handsome face before he spoke.
"Fine, you have one day for your experiments and then she's mine until she is returned to her father after I've broken her in. And…" he paused before grinning. "I get to watch."
His brother beside him chuckled. "You always were a sadistic bastard, Ricardo."
Ricardo's eyes never left her body as he answered, "Says the man who develops drugs that incapacitate women for the sole purpose of rendering them helpless to fend off rapists. You're a real prince, Carlos."
Allie had to risk it. She wanted to go home now. "Please… call my father. He will pay you whatever you want."
Ricardo answered after his next tug on his cigar. "Sí. I'm sure he will, but since I'm already a rich man, I'm afraid money is not what I desire most right now. You will go home when I allow it and not before." He raised his gaze to the unseen man behind her. "Again."
The newest line of fire wrenched a fresh scream from deep inside. Tears turned to sobs as Allie lost the fragile hold she had on hope, tumbling into panicked despair. She was helpless to stop them when she felt hands on her body, pulling and ripping her thin cotton sundress from hem to collar, exposing her back to the humid Columbian air in the warehouse.
As much as she hated the pain settling in her ass, the feel of calloused hands touching her body as they ripped her panties from her filled her with dread. She fought to move away from her captors until two sets of hands, one at her head, the other at her feet, pressed her hard against the unforgiving wooden table she was laid upon.
Only when she felt the metal of a blade against her skin did she freeze. The sharp blade made fast work of slicing through her bra straps, baring the final narrow strip of skin it had been protecting.
Her body was now bare to their gaze… and so much more. She had no idea how many men were present. She wasn't even sure if it mattered anymore. All that mattered in that moment was making the fire stop burning across her ass. The pain consumed her.
The tallest man squatted down next to the table, bringing his hungry gaze even with her. As if he had all the time in the world, he drew slow drags from his cigar, exhaling his smoke directly in her face.
"No one fucks her but me," he finally announced.
Allison couldn't see his brother behind him, but she heard the frustration in his voice. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm following my testing protocols, and that calls for fucking. Lots of fucking."
Ricardo finished his next drag before answering his brother. "So use the many tools at your disposal, but no one's dick goes inside her but mine. These are my rules."
"Since when do you keep an asset for yourself?"
"Since today."
"Suit yourself. It won't impact my tests."
Allie closed her eyes, attempting to shut out the horror, but there was no stopping the soundtrack of her situation.
"Trae en la silla de examen médico." For the first time she wished her Spanish was worse than it was. Then maybe she wouldn't know that the older brother had ordered one of the men to bring in a medical chair. She wasn't sure what that was, but under the circumstances, she knew it was bad.
She squeezed her eyes tighter at the first tender touch to stroke the lines of fire across her ass. She got the impression he was admiring the welts that had to surely be rising from her punished bottom.
The older brother tried to control the scene. "Save that for later, brother. I suggest we restrain her and retire. There is no reason to hurry. We can resume tomorrow after getting some rest."
"No. We continue now."
"But…"
"Now or never. I will not wait to claim her. Experiment if you must, but she comes with me when I leave in the morning."
She knew the whimper had to have come from her. Her crying was drowned out by the sound of men dragging something heavy across the concrete floor of the warehouse. She kept her eyes squeezed closed as several pairs of hands grabbed her by her biceps and ankles and lifted her from the table.
Her eyes flew open of their own accord. She felt as if she would free-fall
to the floor as she hung between the unethical soldiers. She wanted to beg them to help her. Perhaps they were husbands, or fathers. Could she appeal to their compassion?
Only the fear of being struck again held her tongue. She was uprighted only long enough to be shoved into the chair that reminded her of her dentist's office—with a few modifications.
The metal of the chair felt cool on her bare skin, yet the contact with her punished ass was torture. The men were anything but gentle as they attempted to free her hands from the ropes binding her wrists. Losing patience, the soldier closest to her, who smelled of stale sweat, pulled a lethal knife with a long blade from a sheath on his belt.
"No mueva o tendrá que ser cortado."
She didn't speak, but she wanted to tell him she wasn't stupid enough to move.
The relief she felt as the constricting ropes fell away was short-lived. She didn't even have time to rub the rope-burned skin before calloused hands were raking at the tattered remnants of her sundress and bra. They had the final threads of fabric stripped away in seconds before pulling her arms above her head.
She had missed the manacles that were part of this evil chair. She found herself missing the relatively soft rope when her wrists were secured slightly above and wider apart than her ears. She pulled to test the locks and regretted it immediately. The metal was unforgiving, cutting into her already raw skin.
Panic overtook Allison and she fought like a madwoman against the men overpowering her. She kicked her legs, flailing, and connecting with random body parts of her captors. Her struggles succeeded in only one thing—pissing the men off more.
Reinforcement soldiers rushed forward to subdue her. Dirty hands appeared from behind the chair to wrap around her torso, holding the top half of her body still while two other large hands belonging to a body she could not see pulled a thick leather strap across her tummy. She heard the rattle of a buckle behind the chair as the strap was pulled so tight it constricted her breathing. That was not the most unfortunate consequence of the restraint. It was pressing down on her bladder and a whole new fear struck Allison. It took all her self-control to maintain control over her own bodily fluids between the pressure and fear gripping her.