“What are you doing?” a woman demanded. The only woman Erin had heard.
“We’re going,” the man in charge of this faction said.
“No. No, you are not,” the woman said.
“We have been here too long. It is not safe.”
“You cannot go anywhere now, you idiots. Weren’t you listening? The truck isn’t working.”
Several people muttered curses.
“What’s going on in here?” More men, more voices.
Erin swallowed. Something was happening out there. It was bad enough everyone was nervous, fighting and angry.
The kitchen was—what? Ten by twelve?
Were they going to cram nine people in here, some carrying weapons?
With tempers hot this sounded like a great way for an accident to happen.
“Americans!” Someone from across the home shouted.
Please...
A metal clang made Erin’s skin break out in goose flesh.
She’d heard that sound before.
“Look out!” someone yelled.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t help.
A bright flash of light dazzled Erin’s eyes, even through the fabric of her scarf.
Smoke filled the room in seconds. The people around her choked and coughed, some shouting orders that countered what someone else wanted. Her scarf provided Erin some meager protection against the smoke bomb.
This was her chance.
Erin took a step, only to have a pair of hands haul her sideways. She ran into a table, stumbled over a chair, all while trying to hold her breath.
Erin bounced off a doorway, giving her the perfect opening. She spun and her feet slipped on the gravel like sand. She went down hard. The hands holding her slid.
She rolled onto her knees and clawed the scarf from around her face.
The night sky spread out over head. So pristine and perfect. Another person rushed past her, choking for air. The one who’d dragged her from the house wasn’t in sight.
They’d abandoned her.
Erin shoved to her feet and jogged a few steps out into the night air.
The house was at the very edge of what looked to be a small village. She didn’t know if the house was being attacked, or if she was being rescued.
“Where is she? Someone find her,” one of her captors yelled from inside.
Shit.
Now or never.
Erin bolted, sprinting as fast as she could move her legs. Whoever had attacked the house might or might not be friendly to her. There was no way to tell. She kept going, arms pumping. She turned at the first opportunity, weaving between the homes. A dog rose out of the shadows right in front of her.
She saw the shape too late.
Her foot caught and she pitched forward. Gravel and sand scraped her skin. Her knees jolted hitting the ground, jarring her bones.
The dog yelped as it scampered away.
Erin coughed dust and shook her head. Her body throbbed with adrenaline, her limbs ached.
Feet crunched the ground behind her.
She would not go back there.
Erin shoved to her feet and swayed. Days without regular food or water were taking their toll.
“Erin Lopez?” The accent was American, but without light there was no way to tell if he was US military, private sector, or someone she didn’t want to run into in a dark ally.
She whirled to face a figure armed with a rifle. The man in the shadows was impossible to identify, beyond big.
“Who are you?” She wasn’t admitting anything yet.
“VIP asset is in hand,” he said to someone else, but he was alone.
“What?”
“Sorry, ma’am. Come with me, please?” He had an earpiece. She could see the wire when he turned his head. He was either military or a contractor then.
“Not until you tell me who you are.” Erin took a step back. She’d made enemies. She couldn’t blindly trust someone because they claimed they were there to rescue her.
“My name is Riley.” He lowered his weapon and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m with Aegis Group Lepta Team. We were hired to bring you home safely. Now, if you don’t mind, I think it's best we move. Now.”
Aegis Group.
That was familiar.
Riley strode toward her. Erin backed away, but he was coming faster than she moved. Riley wrapped his left arm around her, his hand firmly in the middle of her back, and hustled her around behind the homes. He didn’t manhandle her or drag her, which was a nice change of pace. If it weren’t for the situation, she might even call his touch comforting.
Lepta Team?
She couldn’t remember having heard that. Was he lying to her? Or was he her new guardian angel?
“Nice night, isn’t it?” Riley kept her moving at a steady pace. He had a destination in mind, unlike her.
Erin peered at the homes, but most of the lights were out. Did these people know what was going on? Were they taking cover?
“Thirsty? Anything hurt?” Riley peppered her with questions that didn’t matter.
“We need to get out of here,” Erin said.
“Glad we can agree on something.” Was it her imagination, or did he laugh?
“These homes, what about the people?”
“Oh, everyone’s safe. Figured if things were going to get hot, we should clear out as many people beforehand. Seemed like the neighborly thing to do.”
Erin gaped at the shadow shrouded man.
They’d taken time to empty homes before trying to rescue her? And risked someone spilling the beans?
Who were these people?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
It can never be said that NYT & USA Today Bestselling author Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’ life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and fostering cats.
COPYRIGHT © 2018 BY Sidney Bristol.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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www.sidneybristol.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Dangerously Deceived / Sidney Bristol.—1st ed.
Dangerously Deceived Page 29