The elevator doors slid open onto another floor. Cruz didn’t respond to her. He pushed her back against the wall, his glare icy cold. He turned and led them off the elevator, down the hall, into a spacious office.
One of the guards peeled off and began unlocking the doors. There were easily a dozen closets. Why would he need a dozen, small closets?
The men holding her shoved her into one. She pitched forward, stumbling into the cramped space. They slammed the door shut, locking her into a space that was barely big enough for her to sit on the floor. She turned, pushing against the walls, eyes open wide, straining to see anything. Splinters stuck in her fingers and palms. The walls were rough, unfinished in places, smooth in others. The voices outside were muted, distant. Her breathing was too loud, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
It was a cell. A cell made for a single person. And she was in it.
Mason pressed the phone to his ear and peered into the reflection on his sunglasses. The women in the backseat squinted, as if they hadn’t seen light in ages. It was almost a painfully bright, sunny day. Not a cloud in sight. A warm sea breeze carried the smell of brine inland. If they’d still been vacationing, it would have been the perfect day on the beach.
“You were supposed to be back already.” Zain’s voice through the phone snapped Mason out of that line of thought.
“Change of plans. We staged a little rescue. No loose ends.” At least not until someone went looking for the hotel owner and found him dead. But that was a problem they couldn’t worry about now.
“What?”
“Just letting you know not to wait up. I’ll call you after we meet with Abraham.”
Zain muttered a curse, no doubt not a fan of being the last to know a plan had changed. “Hurry. Something’s happening.”
“Hannah?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s going on?”
“Again. I don’t know. There was a big commotion just after you guys left. Something happened inside that has the guards buzzing around. They seem pissed. Security is up. I don’t like it.”
What had Hannah done?
There was no question in Mason’s mind that whatever the disturbance was, Hannah was involved. Her old man had taught her a thing or two over the years about protecting herself and survival. She might not be a trained soldier, but she could shoot, and she had a good head on her shoulders. If she saw a way to escape, he believed she’d take it.
“Hurry,” Zain said.
“Shit.” Mason muttered.
“What?” Travis asked.
Mason didn’t answer. There wasn’t time. They needed to meet with Abraham, deliver the girls somewhere safe, and get back to Zain so they could stare at brick and wonder what was happening. It was the most fucking frustrating, useless situation.
He jabbed Abraham’s contact and the call initiated. Hopefully the man answered. They didn’t have time or the resources to play coy.
“You have something for me?” Abraham must have been waiting for the call. Had it even rung?
“I have three someones for you.” Mason glanced in the side mirror at the profile of one of the women. She looked as though she were about to be sick. When was the last time they’d eaten? Showered? Changed clothes?
“What?” Abraham’s disbelief telegraphed through the line.
“It wasn’t the deal, but we wanted to make sure we had the right location for your girls. We saw an opportunity and took it. Do you have somewhere they can go?”
Abraham rattled off an address in the opposite direction from Cruz’s location. Travis rerouted them, doing his best to stick to side streets and lesser traveled avenues where they could avoid attention. They were in a stolen car with three women who looked like prisoners. The last thing they wanted was to get picked up by the cops. The drive left Mason anxious and ready to be back staring at a building he couldn’t enter.
At long last Travis pulled up in front of what appeared to be a well-trafficked shopping strip. A delivery bay stood open, two men with barely concealed guns standing at the entrance.
“That’s us.” Mason nodded at the door.
Travis muttered under his breath and steered them into the yawning mouth of the building. The two men lowered the doors behind them, plunging them into darkness for a few seconds.
Mason gripped his gun. He wouldn’t put it past Abraham to double-cross them now that they had what he wanted. It was maybe not the best plan to free the women before they’d rescued Hannah, but Mason wasn’t going to use the lives of innocent women as bargaining chips to get what he wanted.
The lights flickered on.
Abraham stood maybe twelve feet away, hands in his pockets.
Mason got out first, followed by Travis.
“Is it them?” Abraham’s voice was different. The salesmen veneer was gone. He was a man who’d lost people he cared about. Maybe even loved.
Mason opened the back door to the car and helped first one and then the second woman out.
He didn’t even know their names.
Travis let the third out on the other side.
Abraham took two steps toward them and stopped, lips parted, eyes wide. Disbelief written on every line of his face.
For a moment no one moved.
The women clung to each other in front of the car, staring at Abraham
Abraham stared at the women.
Travis and Mason hung back, interlopers on this poignant reunion.
Abraham said something that wasn’t English or Spanish, hands outstretched, voice breaking.
Whatever it was, it broke the spell. The women rushed forward, Abraham spread his arms and they clung to each other. The women’s sobs were the worst.
Mason opened his mouth and closed it. He knew that relief. He wanted to feel it so bad, to know Hannah was okay, but it was out of his reach so long as Cruz still had her.
“We have to go.” Travis flashed his phone at Mason. The text was too far away to read, but Mason didn’t need to know the details. Something was going down and Zain needed them back on-site.
He nodded and backed toward the passenger side door.
“Wait,” Abraham said.
He gave the women a last squeeze, then sidestepped them, strode directly to Mason and clasped his hand.
“Thank you,” Abraham said. Was it Mason’s imagination, or were those tears? He wasn’t going to judge.
“It was the right thing to do.” He glanced over Abraham’s shoulder at the women. They met his gaze now. Earned some modicum of trust. “What...what will happen to them now?”
“I’m going to send them away from here. I have homes in other countries. They will be cared for. For the rest of their lives. They will never want for anything.” Abraham’s sincerity left no room for doubt. He might be a criminal and a gun runner, but Mason knew he’d do right by these women at least.
“Good. I’d like to know more about the auction, if they can remember anything. The facilities, the people, names, anything would help.”
“Of course.”
“We have to go,” Travis said again.
“I will be in touch. We will strike Cruz before the day is over.”
“Tonight. Tomorrow morning would be best.”
“I’ll leave the details to you. Have Zain contact my people. They’ll know what needs to be done.” Abraham waved at someone behind the scenes and the metal door rolled upward. “Thank you. You have done me a great service.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
Mason didn’t know if he needed to hear it, or if it was all the reason he needed, but for now it was what kept him going. Doing the right thing. Getting Hannah back. Because he would get her back. There was no question in his mind.
14.
Hannah sat against the back of the closet-sized cell, facing the door. She’d begun to track time by measuring the arc of light stretching toward her under the door. Now the lack of light and the silence told her it was likely nighttime.
Her stom
ach growled and her mouth felt as though she’d crammed it full of cotton balls. The closet was so small she couldn’t stretch out her legs or arms. No one had opened the door since her imprisonment that morning.
There’d been voices through the day. At first, it was mostly yelling. Cruz’s. Other girls. She’d listened, visualizing the room to figure out where each girl was being locked up. The others had cried, screamed even, for a while. But now they were silent. Spent. Broken.
And they were not the first.
Hannah kept her hands wrapped around her legs. She’d felt the gouges in the wood without realizing what they were at first. It’d taken her a while to figure it out.
Nail marks.
From where her predecessors had literally tried to claw their way out of this hell hole.
It was all useless.
Her escape attempt. Making a weapon. Believing Mason would rescue her.
If he was still here, he’d have already rescued her, wouldn’t he?
He wouldn’t wait.
Which meant he left. He never intended to save the other women. It was all a ruse to get her home.
How long after she went through security had he gotten on a plane for home?
Mason was probably at home, watching a movie or playing video games right now, thinking he’d played her so well.
She buried her face against her arms. If she had anything left in her, she’d sob. She’d cry. But what was the point? She was done for. And it was all her fault.
Night stretched out above them, unbroken by the moon. Even the stars seemed to find it difficult to penetrate the inky blackness. All around them it was quiet, as if the city itself were sleeping, or holding its breath, waiting for what came next.
Mason stared at his watch, waiting for the seconds to tick by.
There.
It was time.
“Luke, you in position?” Mason asked. He was anxious to kick this off and get Hannah back. Just a few more moments was all they needed.
“Just about.” The other man’s voice was crystal clear through the coms.
“Let’s head out.” Mason nodded at Travis and Zain.
This wasn’t the smallest entry team he’d ever been part of. Three men should be able to hold the entrance and stairwell while evacuating the prisoners, leaving the fourth, Luke, to act as their lookout and sniper. However, just because they should be able to pull this off didn’t mean it was a great idea. Still, it was what they had, and Mason wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to get Hannah back.
“I see the boat,” Luke said.
“Keep an eye on them,” Zain said.
They still weren’t in agreement on how much they could trust Abraham.
Mason pushed the back emergency door open and exited onto the street that ran alongside Cruz’s building. They had an excellent view of the street and two sides of the warehouse. He kept low, eyes on the windows and doors of their target. Luke was above, on the roof of the office building in remodel. Mason would trust the man with his life—and had on a number of occasions—but it also didn’t mean he could drop his guard. There was every possibility Cruz knew they were coming. That he had his own security inside they didn’t know about. For all they knew, Abraham had sold them out, Mason had been tailed, or the cops were on to them.
“Street is clear.” Luke’s voice was muffled now.
“No sign of movement.” Mason advanced down the side of the street, his skin crawling. He didn’t like any of this. It was too quiet. But in all the time he’d watched the building there were long periods of no action. “I see the entry point.”
He stopped at the corner of the office building they’d used as their stakeout point and peered either direction up and down the street. Just because Luke said it was clear didn’t mean Mason was going to walk out there without a second look.
A glance left. A glance right.
No movement.
Four a.m. was a particularly silent hour for some reason.
“Is the boat in position?” Mason asked.
“Affirmative,” Luke replied.
“Remember, we get out with the girls, you get off that building.” Zain’s voice was quiet, steady.
“Loud and clear, boss.”
“We go on three.” Mason’s vision narrowed to the single side entrance. It was time to bring Hannah home. “One. Two. Three.”
He sprinted forward, gun at the ready. From here, there was no stopping, no cautious moving. They couldn’t hesitate.
Travis and Zain’s steps were heavy thuds, hot on Mason’s heels as they approached the side entrance. The main doors were too new, and stood the possibility of being reinforced or wired for security purposes.
Mason slapped a small explosive device to the door. When it came down to deciding on entry options, picking the lock took too much time, they couldn’t be certain of their ability to kick a reinforced door down—but explosives? Those would almost always do the trick. He backtracked to just behind the dumpster sitting along the street. There was still a good chance that the door was reinforced to the point the charge wouldn’t damage it. Which was why they’d chosen the smaller entry point. If the door didn’t give, the brick would.
Boom!
The building shook as the small targeted charge blew the door inward, clanging and clattering onto the concrete floor, clearing their entrance.
Mason’s ears rang with the close confines to the blast. He’d had worse. He crouched and ran for the opening, Zain and Travis right behind him.
Voices yelled from inside the building, but an initial sweep with his gun light showed only the minor wreckage from the blast. No guards. No people. And especially no Hannah.
“I’ve got the door. Go,” Travis yelled. He took up position just inside the building where he could see both the street and interior. It would be up to him and Luke to cover their exit.
Zain and Mason ducked left, toward the stairs Abraham had told them would be there. Sure enough, a concrete and black pipe staircase led down, to a basement level, which at one point would have been the loading dock for ships. Now, it was bricked up and a dead end.
Mason descended first, with Zain stopping halfway down, his attention on their six.
Above, three shots blasted the calm to pieces. Mason held his breath, waiting for one of the others to give an update.
“Two hostiles down.” Travis’ voice never shook or broke. He was calm. And Mason was glad he was on their side.
Mason proceeded on the basement level through a landing area that served both the stairs and an elevator into a large room. The smell hit him first, the odor of sweat and refuse.
He’d braced himself for bad, but seeing it was another matter.
Chain link fence lay curled or hanging from the ceiling. On the far side of the room a...cell...contained women. People. All staring back at him.
Hannah.
He searched the faces, looking for her blonde hair, her eyes, but she wasn’t there. In fact, he didn’t see an American among them.
Where was she?
He had to free these women and get them moving. Only then could he figure out where Hannah was being held.
“Hurry up, Mason, I hear more coming,” Travis said.
“I’m here to rescue you.” Mason lowered his gun and held his hands up, speaking slowly in Spanish.
On second inspection, he was pretty sure all of the women were locals.
“Step back from the fence.” He’d acquired a hefty set of snips for exactly this purpose. The set-up hadn’t changed all that much from where Abraham’s employees were being held. “We have a boat waiting. Move in a single file line up the stairs, out into the alley and onto the ship. We will keep you safe.”
“Hurry, Mason,” Travis growled. Three more shots, at least one of those wasn’t from Travis.
Mason grabbed the door and fit the snips around the links. He wouldn’t mess with the lock. It would take too much time to cut through that, while the metal it was attached to was
far weaker.
A woman shoved toward the gate and stood toe-to-toe with him.
“You’re Hannah’s friend,” she said.
Mason’s hands shook. He glanced up, searching her face for truth.
“Where is she?” He cut through three links at once, putting his full force behind the snips.
“They took her, the other American girls, and anyone pretty this morning.” There was a desperate note in her voice. What had happened? That wasn’t the full story. Something was missing.
Mason jerked the gate open. The metal gave way with a pop and it recoiled back onto itself.
“I heard that,” Zain said, his voice grim.
“Go,” Mason snapped, gesturing to the stairs.
The woman who’d spoken grabbed the hands of the two closest women and pulled them after her.
More gunfire resounded through the building.
“How’s it looking up there?” Mason waited only so long to make sure all the women were mobile and didn’t need assistance. Some were even armed with makeshift weapons. He sprinted up the stairs, back to Zain.
“There’s one taking pot shots on the other side of that door.” Zain inclined his head a fraction of an inch, gun trained at the very spot in question.
Mason could hear Travis outside, directing the women and keeping an eye on the street with Luke.
Someone needed to answer Mason’s questions. The women didn’t know where Hannah was. He was willing to bet the man shooting did.
He charged up the stairs while the women streamed out into the street.
The plan was working.
But they weren’t going to save Hannah, not unless they found out where she was, and fast. The cops would come soon and their only opportunity of getting to Hannah would be gone.
“Mason!” Zain yelled.
Mason didn’t wait. He sprinted across the open warehouse.
The shooter leaned out, his aim on Mason.
A gun fired.
Mason flinched. The would-be shooter fell to the ground, a shot clean through his throat. The man’s hands lifted, as if to cover the wound, but it was too late.
“No!”
Mason went to the ground, but the man’s life was already spilling onto the floor.
Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) Page 19