Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
D ana kept her back against the wall and her knees pulled into her chest while she searched the ceiling and walls of her basement cell. Tremors took hold of her body. Her teeth chattered. But she couldn’t fall apart. Her captor would be back. He hadn’t gotten the information he wanted, and he’d do far worse to get her to talk.
She refocused her attention on her surroundings. She was almost certain there weren’t any cameras. Either way, she had to be careful. The guy likely assumed she was incapacitated. But now more than ever, she was fueled to fight. She had training. She could take him.
He’d bound her hands again, but she’d been a shaking, screeching mess when he’d done it, so the rope wasn’t as secure as it’d been before. Until she found a weapon or a way out, she’d keep her hands tied in case he came back.
Dana got to her feet and the room swayed. She leaned against the wall to prevent herself from toppling over. Just standing made her leg muscles scream and burn. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths until the ache in her limbs abated. Pushing away from the wall, she moved around the perimeter.
The cement walls were bare, and the odd chunk was missing. Even if she found a tool, trying to dig through cinderblock would be useless. She cast her gaze toward the window just above her head. It was now midmorning. If it weren’t for a piece of plywood against the glass, the sun would shine through brightly.
Dana inched closer to the window and examined the plywood. It wasn’t nailed to anything, just rested against the glass. She turned around. There wasn’t any furniture in the room for her to stand on. She stifled a growl of frustration. Then she spotted a bucket in a corner.
She crossed the room and peered into the bucket to find it empty. Thank god. Her overactive imagination had envisioned all kinds of horrors that would have haunted her for the rest of her life. She stalked away from the corner, gaining more clarity with every step.
This was what she needed. To move her body and stimulate her muscles to push out the shock. She sucked in a long, deep breath. The thick, damp air made the back of her throat itch, but she couldn’t think about the mold and mildew she was inhaling. She reached a small closet—more like a nook, as it didn’t have a door.
Inside was a wet/dry vacuum—as if anyone had ever cleaned the place—and a pile of towels. Perhaps there’d recently been a leak. That would explain the wet towels and floor.
She knelt and grabbed the material awkwardly with her bound wrists. A sheet of plastic was crumpled beneath. What the heck? She unfolded the plastic and her heart stopped.
A burnt-red color stained it. Her heart slowed, and the sheet fell from her fingertips. She backed away from the closet, her heart hammering. The plastic had been used to catch blood. The water to mop up the mess.
Oh god. Oh god .
Someone had died here.
Panic kept her on her knees on the cool, hard floor. The muscles in her chest squeezed tighter and tighter, as if a boa constrictor circled her. Her pulse beat relentlessly against her forehead, and the sound was deafening.
Get a grip. If you don’t escape, your blood will be on there too.
Tears leaked from her eyes, and Dana wiped them away with her fingertips. Okay, nothing of use in the closet. She steered herself in the other direction and studied the wall. There had to be something in here, dammit. Anything.
She turned her gaze back to the corner. The bucket would be useful to reach the window. If she could wiggle out of the ropes around her wrists, she could escape. She wasn’t going to find anything sharp.
Bringing the rope to the light coming in from around the plywood, she examined her restraints. The rope was wound around her arms a few times, and the loop on top seemed looser than the others. Using her teeth, she pulled at the slack piece and tried to work it over her hands. Her jaw screamed as she clamped down and pulled.
Minutes later, sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She stopped to catch her breath, panting heavily as she cursed the stupid thick material. Giving her mouth a break, she wrenched her arms apart. She twisted and turned her hands. The rope burned her skin but she didn’t stop.
She let her arms drop to her legs, her chest heaving. Her pinkie screamed and the skin on her wrists stung. Lifting her hands once again, she gently moved her arms. The rope had loosened. A thrill raced through her.
Yes!
Once she had the bindings off—
Footsteps stomped on the floor above. Dana tilted back her head as dust particles fluttered down like tiny warning flags.
Her pulse skidded to a stop, and the frigid hands of fear circled her throat.
** *
“Hold on a minute.” Rami covered Zain’s phone with his hand before he could dial Maxine’s number. “What the hell are you gonna say?”
Zain shooed away his brother’s hold and clamped his hand around the device. His gaze pulsed with ferocity. He’d once respected the oath of secrecy he’d taken, but that was blown to hell now. The CIA had killed innocent people, murdered his unit. And now they had Dana.
A week ago, he’d have known how to tackle this situation. But that was before he’d met Dana.
Before he’d endangered her. Before they’d fucking taken her.
Before he’d fallen for her.
Not only was Dana—a goddamn innocent in all of this—in danger, but he also had the moral responsibility of exposing the information Ghost had uncovered.
The CIA had murdered his fellow unit members, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d avenged their callous deaths.
“I’ll tell her if she doesn’t give Dana back then everything I know will be on the news.” He reached for the sheets of paper Ghost had brought in moments before and snapped pictures of each.
It might not be enough.
“Maxine told me Jaysh was planning a massive terrorist attack,” he continued. “That’s why I was supposed to locate their leader, Jabar. I was scheduled to meet him just days after Dana arrived. If I’d made it to the meeting and gotten the information they wanted, she’d have sent in a team to kill Jabar—and she’d have fucking murdered me along with him.”
Rami’s expression turned grave. “I’m sure that’s how things would’ve gone. The mission would’ve been a success, the CIA heroes, and you a prisoner casualty. Easy out.”
Zain nodded. “Right. Only I fucked everything up by leaving. Not only did they not find Jabar, but I’m alive to speak about the hospital bombing and the men in my platoon who survived the IED.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t show your hand,” Rami said. “We’ve already got a name on the assassin who took Dana. If we can track his plates and find out where he took her, we could take this a different route.”
Zain pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t fucking think. Inside his head a clock ticked, warning him that he was running out of time. “We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. If Maxine sees I’m a threat, she might let Dana go.”
A cloud of worry crossed his brother’s face. “Jesus, man. This is fucking dangerous.”
He nodded. One wrong move and this whole thing could blow up in his face. He pulled up Maxine’s private number and hit the call button .
The line rang in his ear, the strident tone enough to make him want to beat his head against the wall.
“Zain, why are you calling me?” Maxine’s voice was low, her irritation clearly high.
“I think you fucking know why.”
A long pause. “I assure you I don’t. Nor do I appreciate your tone. I’m doing everything I can to help find your girl—”
“You killed my unit.” The resolute accusation fell like lead from his mouth.
Maxine’s sharp breath whistled in his ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t deny it. You’re wasting my time, and Dana’s. I have proof the CIA hit the hospital. You admitted as much to me after my rescue, but everything else you said was a lie.”
“Zain—”
“You killed innocent people. Recruited me and lied to me so I’d do your bidding. I’m going to expose you—unless you bring me Dana.”
Silence.
Zain clicked the speaker icon and quickly sent Maxine a text containing one of the documents from Ghost.
“I want confirmation you have Dana. Now.” He had her in a corner. The sooner she knew he wasn’t bluffing, the better.
“How did you get this information?” she screeched, her tone obliterating any doubt left in Zain’s mind. He could practically see her stern exterior melting into a puddle of makeup and hairspray.
“I have my sources. You’ve got five minutes to give me proof you have Dana or this, along with several other documents, is sent to a reporter.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You think—”
“Four minutes.” He hung up.
He set his phone on the desk and cradled his head in his hands. Despite his bluster, sweat trickled down his face and anxiety made his stomach roil.
Jesus.
He’d just thrown all his eggs in one basket in the hopes the damn thing wasn’t already on fire. Lowering his hands he lifted his head. One look at Rami told him everything he needed to know. Rami’s face had lost a bit of color, his brow was tense, and disbelief flashed in his eyes.
“That was one ballsy move, dude.” Rami’s tone lacked reproach. Instead, it held a hint of awe.
“I didn’t know what to do. If we’re wrong and they don’t have Dana, then this shouldn’t blow back on me. But considering the evidence, chances they’re not involved are nil.”
Rami gave a sharp nod. “Agreed. Given the circumstances I think you played this well. Better than I would’ve.” He nudged Zain with his shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ve got a whole team working round the clock. I bet they’ll have something concrete in a few hours.”
Zain curled his lip. “She won’t live that long.”
“You don’t know that.” He rocked on his heels. “I never told you about how I met Ivy.”
Zain cocked his head. “Tell me.”
“I rescued her from human traffickers. If it weren’t for Gigi’s insistence, though, I never would’ve taken the job. Backcountry was fairly new at the time. We were growing but nowhere near search and rescue.” He wet his lips and swiveled his head toward the door.
When he looked back at Zain, his eyes were filled with sadness. “Had I not taken that job, no one would’ve found her. She was in Mexico being held by a cartel. Every fucking day I kick myself for what could have happened had I not followed my gut.” He placed a hand on the back of Zain’s neck and brought his forehead to rest on his brother’s. “You’ll bring her back, man. Have faith. You’ve got all of us behind you.”
Desperation moistened Zain’s eyes. If he lost his footing now, he’d fall to his knees in despair. No, he had to stay standing. “Thanks, Rami.”
Ring , ring
Zain’s phone vibrated on the boardroom table. A text lit the screen.
Holy shit.
** *
Metal tinkled in the lock, and the door swung open before Dana could steel her nerves or summon an ounce of false courage. Her captor stormed into the room, his ominous eyes landing on her with disgust.
She scampered backward until her shoulders smacked into the cement wall. Her elbows flanked either side of her knees, and her bound hands hung in front of her. She wanted to scream and fight him, but she wasn’t prepared.
That said, now she knew what he was capable of. And if he came after her fingernails again, or even a lock of her damn hair, she’d lose it. She’d rather die fighting than have her body parts ripped off.
He stalked forward and Dana began to shake. He lowered himself down to her level, only a few feet away, and her breath hitched in the back of her throat. She opened her lips to demand what he wanted but nothing came out.
She stared at this demon incarnate and clung to a prayer—surely only Jesus could banish something so evil.
He smiled. The lifting of his lips crinkled his eyes. “How’s your finger?”
She squeezed her hands together. If he touched her, she’d strike. “About as ugly as you now.”
His expression froze, and his blue eyes swirled with ice. Then his face cracked, and he burst out laughing. “I’m going to enjoy breaking every bone in your body.”
She glowered at him. “Why keep me here? What’s the point?”
“The point is to cut out your fucking throat once I get the information I need from it.”
“I told you everything I know.”
He snarled. “Bullshit.”
“So then kill me.” She shrugged. Antagonizing him probably wasn’t smart, but there was a reason he’d paused their little interrogation, and the more knowledge she gained, the better off she’d be.
“I want nothing more.” He worked his jaw. “It’s not my call, though. Not yet anyway.”
She tilted her head an inch. “Who do you work for?”
His smile spread. “Powerful people, baby.” He reached into his pocket.
A gasp lodged itself at the base of her tongue, and she lifted her arms in front of her face, anticipating the dreaded knife.
“Put your fucking hands down before I chop off a finger.”
Vomit inched up her esophagus but she dropped her hands. This wasn’t a man who didn’t follow through.
Instead of meeting the blade of his knife, she found herself staring at the lens of his phone camera. “Say cheese. ”
He snapped a picture, glanced down, and tapped the screen.
“Who’d you send that to?”
He smirked. “None of your business. But guess what? That was the before picture.”
Before Dana could grapple with his meaning, his knuckles slammed across her cheekbone. The blow sent her reeling to the floor. A low buzz filled her ears, drowning out the abusive words he spat.
She blinked away the crushing pain and lifted herself onto her arms. Slowly, her hearing returned, but vomit threatened to meet the pile of it staring at her.
“Got a present for ya.” He opened his fist.
Her fingernail sat in his palm. He dropped it in front of her, and Dana threw up violently on the cement.
He shook his head and spat. “Nasty.”
She cringed and lifted her hands, anticipating another blow, but only the sounds of the door slamming shut and the lock turning reached her ears.
They might as well have been dirt on her coffin.