by Mona Ingram
She looked at him coolly. “Really, Mr. Blazek. Discussing my fiancé’s bank balance is even more distasteful than discussing personal matters. But I simply won’t believe he’s an arms dealer. Not Josh.” She tossed her head, as though discarding a thoroughly unacceptable notion.
Blazek reached up to smooth his tie and then dropped his hand. “He has assured me that he is. If that’s not true, he’s gone to a lot of trouble to convince me otherwise.”
She allowed a hint of uncertainly to creep into her voice. “I just can’t believe that’s true.” She pretended to think for a moment. “But if it is, what’s your role in all of this?”
“That should be obvious.” He spread his hands, encompassing the entire warehouse. “I’m the main distributor for the area. All of the local dealers buy from me.”
Olivia’s heart pounded. Blazek was the ‘kingpin’ Josh had mentioned.
“You’re an arms dealer?” For the first time, she looked directly at the stacked cartons. “So your import-export business is a front for illegal arms. How original.”
“Not original perhaps. But effective…very effective.” He indicated the stacked cartons. “These will all be gone by tomorrow evening.” He seemed to swell up with pride. “I run a very efficient organization.”
“What are they?” Olivia couldn’t help it; she was fascinated.
Blazek sensed her interest and his attitude changed. He became a salesman, expounding on a subject dear to his heart.
“RPGs, launchers, AK-47s, mortars, and of course everybody’s favorite, Semtex.” He shrugged indifferently. “Nothing unusual, but in the right hands, extremely deadly.”
He turned on her. “But I digress. Your…” He hesitated theatrically. “Your fiancé has expressed an interest in making a purchase. As you can imagine, this is a very dangerous business, and one cannot be too careful.” He extracted a gold cigarette case from his jacket and slid out a cigarette, tapping it thoughtfully on the closed case. With equal deliberation he flicked a slim gold cigarette lighter, eyeing her over the flame. “It’s my job to check on Mr. Morgan,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke. “And although his bona fides seem to be in order, something isn’t right. Why would a man of Mr. Morgan’s obvious confidence ask you to pose as his fiancée?” He examined the glowing tip of the cigarette. “You can see my dilemma, I’m sure.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve already told you why he hired me.” She looked toward the exit. “So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be getting back to the yacht. Josh will be missing me by now.”
Blazek laughed mirthlessly. “I don’t think so, my dear. I’ll let you know when I’m finished with you. In the meantime, I suggest you think about what I’ve said. I want to be very sure that you’ve told me everything you know.” He leaned closer. “Everything.”
Olivia was about to respond when the door opened. Blazek’s two thugs had returned.
“We’ve checked everywhere, Boss. Can’t find it,” Sideburns reported.
“You’ve looked everywhere?”
“Yes, Boss. We even went back to the dock. It’s not anywhere. It must have fallen in the water.”
“All right then.” He gestured to Olivia. “Miss MacMillan is going to be our guest overnight. Tie her up.” He did not see the brief flash of hope that lit her eyes.
“Gladly.” Garlic Breath produced a roll of duct tape and shoved her roughly against a metal support column. He pulled her wrists together around the pole and taped them tightly. Her shoulders stretched painfully but she refused to complain. He then taped her ankles together and stood back to admire his work. After a quick glance at Sideburns he added more tape, attaching her ankles to the pole. “There,” he said with a sneer. “Let’s see you get out of that.”
Olivia ignored him and turned to Blazek, who had watched impassively. “Is this absolutely necessary?” she asked, muscles already screaming for relief.
“Not if you’d like to tell me more about your Mr. Morgan,” he said calmly. “Otherwise I have it on good authority that a night in that position does wonders for the memory.” He cocked his head to one side, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort. “Well?”
Olivia met his gaze evenly. She refused to let her fear show now. “Then I guess I’m in for a long night, because I don’t know any more than I’ve already told you.”
Blazek turned on his heel, and his voice floated back to her. “We’ll see,” he said. “Goodnight, Miss MacMillan.”
Chapter Nine
Josh watched Dirk work through the various scenarios, his analytical mind weighing the strengths and weaknesses of their position. He tossed down his pen and drained the coffee from his cup. “There, that’s it,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “We’ve done everything we can. A.J. is checked out on the G-Lynx, and he’s en route to one of our supply ships right now. They were headed for Gibraltar, which means that once he gets our signal, he can be here within minutes. Fifteen at the most.”
“What else?” They’d been over all this before, but Josh needed to hear it again. He paced around the table.
Dirk shot him an understanding look. “Blazek checked you out thoroughly, like we knew he would. Everything went smoothly there. Colin is as puzzled as we are as to why he nabbed Olivia.”
“Maybe he’s just being overly cautious. But I don’t understand why he would risk offending a purchaser.”
“Why not? He has a lot more to lose than you. And besides, who can you complain to?”
“Good point.” Josh crammed his fists into his pockets. “You know, it’s just as well we don’t know where she is right now. Because if we did, you’d have to tie me down to keep me here.” His breathing became ragged. “If he’s harmed her…”
“Josh.” Dirk glanced at his watch. “It’s three thirty in the morning, and we need to be alert when Blazek calls in a few hours. Why don’t you go downstairs and shower? Get some sleep if you can. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours. Then I’ll shower.”
“I don’t think I can sleep.” Josh caught sight of himself in the mirror over the bar and did a double take. Sunken eyes looked back at him, and the stubble on his cheeks gave him a decidedly scruffy look. He forced a smile. “I look like hell.” He met Dirk’s eyes in the mirror. “I’ll have a shower and be back in a few minutes.”
The lower passageway was dimly lit. Josh paused outside Olivia’s room, and then pushed open the door. Once inside he felt her presence like a physical blow. A damp towel lay on the bed and he pressed his face into it, inhaling her scent. In that one heartbeat of time he knew that he loved her. With a groan of frustration he tossed the towel into the bathroom and sat down on the bed, head in his hands. Was it too late? He allowed himself the luxury of remembering how beautifully she sat a horse, how her eyes glowed in the candlelight of the bistro, how she responded when he took her in his arms. He couldn’t lose her now. All he asked was a chance to tell her how he felt, and to ask if she shared his feelings.
He stood up abruptly. Dirk was right. He needed all his wits about him to deal with Blazek. He walked to the door, and flicked off the light switch.
A pale glow caught his eye. Olivia’s laptop. He paused. She must have been working on it this afternoon. A few keystrokes later, he was reading her notes, and his heart started to thud in his chest. He ran up the stairs, startling Dirk with a cry of elation.
“I know where Olivia is,” he said, placing the laptop on the table. He pointed at the screen. “Look at her notes. Blazek owns a warehouse just East of Puerto Banus, but it’s registered in someone else’s name. That’s why it didn’t come up in any of our searches. I’ll bet that’s where he’s holding her. He wouldn’t dare take her to his villa, where the servants might see her.”
“You know, I think you’re right.” Dirk checked his watch. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Absolutely. If we can find her before he calls…” His eyes glittered. “With any luck, we’ll whisk her out from under his nose and still
complete our mission.”
Dirk clapped him on the back. “That, my friend, would be the icing on the cake.”
* * *
Olivia strained against the tape that bound her wrists, but her movements only served to increase the pain in her shoulders. She couldn’t sit down and standing was quickly becoming an unbearable agony. She renewed her efforts to loosen the tape at her feet and arms, knowing that even a few millimeters would improve her circulation.
Muffled laughter erupted from the back of the warehouse and blue-white light flickered faintly from a television set. The two thugs had been left to guard her. She had watched Blazek instruct them before he left, and they had checked on her three times now. Or was it four? Each time they appeared, her skin crawled as they leered at her, enjoying her discomfort. Although she was desperately thirsty, she refused to ask for water. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her beg. By now, the muscles in her shoulders were thankfully numb; a small victory in her struggle to maintain her dignity.
Her head slumped forward, and the motion woke her up. How to stay awake? It was becoming harder and harder to focus on anything; her thoughts were blurry and indistinct. She laughed to herself. At least she thought she’d laughed…she couldn’t be sure. If only her Editor could see her now. Could Iraq be any worse than this? Maybe so, but at the moment she couldn’t imagine how.
Where was Josh? He would come for her. She knew it with every fiber of her being. His face floated in front of her eyes, darkly, ruggedly handsome. He was sitting astride a beautiful chestnut quarter horse, half-turned in the saddle to smile at her. She frowned. How did she know it was a quarter horse? She couldn’t answer that, but seeing him gave her a warm sense of security, of being home. She raised her hand to return the wave, and his face grew smaller, fading into the distance.
* * *
Dirk drove past the silent port, his eyes alert for any movement. Traffic was non-existent at this time of the morning; even the commercial vehicles hadn’t yet begun their rounds of the resort cities.
“Turn out your lights.” Josh spoke softly, even though there was no one to hear.
Dirk switched off the headlights. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour and a half, but they had no trouble adjusting their eyes to the pale morning light.
“The commercial dock is about two miles away, according to her notes.” He turned to Dirk. “You contacted A.J.?”
“Yes.” The Englishman peered through the windshield. “He’s standing by.” He shot a quick look at Josh. “He must be one helluva pilot if the Royal Navy is willing to let him fly one of their helicopters.”
“He’s the best. But I suspect Colin had something to do with it. He can be very persuasive.”
Dirk nodded. “Don’t I know it.” He slowed the vehicle, head swiveling from right to left. “There’s the pier, and that must be the warehouse. We’ll park and walk the rest of the way.”
Dressed alike in dark clothes, the two men slid into the shadows of a row of loosely connected shacks. The warehouse stood by itself, the only solid structure in the area.
“Let’s do a quick recce,” Dirk suggested, his voice low and tense. “Meet you back here in a minute.” Sliding a gun from his shoulder holster, he disappeared in the gloom along the left side of the warehouse.
Josh scanned the area, and seeing no movement, walked boldly up to the small front door beside the drive-in entrance. He scowled as he saw the keypad to the left of the door. A similar keypad was mounted beside the roll-up doors. “Damn,” he said to himself. “I was hoping to do this quietly.”
Dirk materialized out of the shadows on the far side of the warehouse. “What do you make of the security system?” he asked, nodding toward the door. “There’s another keypad beside the rear door.”
Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m familiar with this system. It requires a seven-digit code to gain entrance. Could you see inside?”
Dirk shook his head. “Not one window in the whole building. We could blow one of the doors, but that would alert whoever’s inside. I’d much rather do this…” He looked over Josh’s shoulder, his eyes widening. “What in blazes?”
Josh turned. A slight figure hugged the corner of the building.
“Senor Josh?” The girl’s voice was tentative, her eyes riveted on Dirk’s gun.
Dirk looked incredulously from the child to Josh. “She knows your name. Who is she?” He slipped the gun back into the holster.
Josh wracked his brain. What was the girl’s name? He moved forward, careful not to frighten her. Kneeling down, he looked into the child’s fearful eyes. She was trembling.
“Rosalina.” He made shooing motions with his hands. “Go away.” He looked back at Dirk for help, but the British agent shrugged his shoulders. “Go away,” he repeated.
The child’s hand came out from behind her back. In her palm, the rough stones of Olivia’s necklace gleamed dully in the gathering light. She pointed to the warehouse. “Senora Olivia,” she whispered, looking from Josh to Dirk. She took Josh’s hand, her fingers small and trusting. She led him to the door and pointed to the keypad. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she pointed to seven numbers, eagerly watching Josh’s response. He repeated the sequence.
Satisfied that he understood, she ran a few steps away, then turned slowly, her expression surprisingly adult.
“Gracias, Rosalina,” he said to the small woman-child. “Muchas gracias.”
The men were treated to a brilliant smile and then the child ran off, disappearing from view a moment later.
“What just happened?” asked Dirk, his cell phone already to his ear.
Josh’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “Olivia showed that child a kindness a couple of nights ago, and it may have saved her life.” He found himself grinning while Dirk consulted his GPS unit and spoke urgently into the phone. His fingers closed over the necklace, and he shoved it into his pocket.
“ETA, thirteen minutes.” Dirk glanced up at the sky. “And none too soon. It’s getting lighter by the second. Let’s go.”
The musical notes of the keypad seemed dangerously loud in the early morning silence. They eased the door open and were soon inside the dark warehouse. Each man pulled out a balaclava and slipped it over his head. Dirk raised a finger to his lips, pointing toward the rear of the warehouse. Josh nodded, acknowledging the faint sound. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to adjust them to the dim light.
Heart pounding like a trip-hammer he peered into the interior. Rows of cartons sat on pallets, awaiting shipment.
“I think we hit pay dirt,” he said, his lips next to Dirk’s ear. “They’ve got a big shipment ready.”
Dirk nodded. “Mostly RPGs and AK-47s, judging from the size of the cartons. Just what we’re after.”
The men crept toward the rear of the warehouse, guns drawn. The sound grew louder, and they recognized it as a television set. An announcer droned on and Josh gave his head a quick shake. TV in any language bored him. He bumped into Dirk.
“What is it?” he said, his hand on Dirk’s back. “What do you see?”
An indistinct figure slumped against a metal pole on the other side of the central aisle. “I think we’ve found Olivia,” Dirk whispered, his voice tight with anger.
Josh started, and Dirk grasped him by the arm. “Not now, Josh. Not now.” His grip was like steel and it took all of his strength to hold Josh back. “I want to free her as much as you do, but we have to take care of whoever is in that room first.” He nodded toward the room at the end of the warehouse.
The twenty feet between Josh and Olivia loomed like an impassible chasm. He ached to gather her in his arms, not only to comfort her, but to assure himself that she was all right. He stifled a groan. Dirk was right, but the helpless feeling at the sight of her slumped over was almost more than he could bear. His hands clenched into fists.
“Steady on.” Dirk’s voice brought him back to the task at hand. “She’s still breathing.” He released h
is grip and spoke in a low, urgent voice. “Why don’t you and I go have a word with the chaps who are holding her?”
Josh took one last look at Olivia. Her glorious silky hair swung forward, hiding her face. He offered a silent prayer for her safety then began moving silently across the floor toward the sound of the television.
Their approach required no verbal communication. Dirk peered in the window and then ducked down, holding up two fingers. With a brief nod, Josh took up a position on the opposite side of the open door. Stretched out on a cot, Garlic Breath was snoring noisily while Sideburns struggled to keep his eyes open, his chair tipped back precariously on two legs. Josh was right behind Dirk as they entered the room.
“All right, gentlemen. Let’s have a little chat, shall we?” Dirk pressed his gun against Sideburns’ temple and the man’s mouth fell open. He struggled to maintain his balance. Josh hovered over Garlic Breath, waiting for him to make a move. He continued snoring, and Josh grabbed him by the shirt and flipped him off the cot. The man cowered on the floor as he saw the menacing figure looming above him. Josh remained silent, as previously agreed.
“Right then.” Dirk kept his pistol leveled at Sideburns’ head. His tone was calmly conversational. “Who owns this warehouse?”
The man shrugged and Dirk raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “You don’t know?” His voice was deceptively gentle. “Pity, that. If you tell us who owns it, we’ll let you go. Otherwise we’ll tie you up and blow the place to pieces.” He paused, as if a brilliant idea had just occurred to him. “As a matter of fact, we’ll blow the place whether you tell us or not. The choice is yours, lads.” His eyes glittered mercilessly, pale blue against the black of the balaclava.
“Blazek!” blurted Garlic Breath. “Jiri Blazek owns it. We just work for him.”
“What’s in the shipment?” Dirk motioned with the gun.
“RPGs, launchers, AK-47s. Some Semtex.” He couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “It’s being shipped tomorrow.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “No, today.”