Chapter 5 #3
“They’ve got it,” he said.
Adrenaline flooded Brick’s system, making his hands shake. “Where?”
“It left the rail yard late this morning.”
Brick’s stomach heaved.
Tiny held up a hand. “But the authorities know where it is—and its destination is Beijing, just like the asshole hinted.”
“Fuck!”
His friend grabbed his shoulder and practically shoved him toward the van that was pulling up at the door to the warehouse. “Come on, let’s go get your lady.”
Brick didn’t need to be told twice.
It had taken way too fucking long for the Russians to get organized. But now they were in helicopters, flying across the Russian countryside. The train Alaska’s container was on…allegedly…hadn’t reached Moscow yet. The plan was to intercept before it arrived.
Brick couldn’t help but pray the employee hadn’t been fucking with them. If Alaska wasn’t in container four-two-one-seven, she was as good as dead. Every single one of the mercenaries knew it. They knew better than anyone what happened to women who disappeared into the sex trade.
Brick kept his gaze trained on the ground several thousand feet beneath the helicopter. Every train they passed made his muscles tense, but so far the helicopter hadn’t slowed.
In the distance, he caught a glimpse of yet another train—this one with container after container stacked along its length. It seemed far longer than any of the others they’d passed.
He heard one of the Russian spec ops soldiers talking to his comrades through the earphones. He didn’t understand the words, but anticipation swam through his veins at the tone.
This was it.
The helicopters slowed, and Brick watched as the lead chopper lowered until it was hovering in front of the train.
The pilot was absolutely amazing, avoiding hazards even as he turned the chopper sideways, allowing several members of the spetsnaz to point rifles at the large window of the engine car.
Brick felt as if he was watching a James Bond movie. He couldn’t hear the train’s brakes engaging, but quickly saw smoke rising from the rails as it slowed.
More words were exchanged by the soldiers over the headphones, likely trying to figure out which of the containers was their target.
It was obvious when they found it—Russians began to rappel out of the choppers, aiming for a train car nearly in the middle of the rest.
By the time it was Brick’s turn to exit, the area was swarming with Russian special forces.
Some had gone to the engine to secure the conductor.
Others had taken up positions all around the target car.
It was difficult to access the door at the back of the container because of its proximity to the next Conex, but eventually it was wrenched open enough to see inside.
Brick and Tiny crowded in behind Gray and the rest of his team, to see what was inside. He swallowed hard at the sight of wooden crates stacked from the floor to the ceiling inside the metal box.
“Shit…” It was going to take a long time to empty the container. Especially since they’d be doing it by hand. There weren’t any forklifts to assist; they were literally in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention they weren’t able to remove the container from the train car, making it easier to empty.
The decision was made not to wait for the train to get to a more convenient place to unload. Which was a good thing, as Brick would’ve lost his shit if Alaska had to wait one extra minute to be rescued.
All the men began to work in tandem. They formed an assembly line, removing the crates one by one.
Luckily, most were small enough to be lifted by two people.
It was taking too long, but Brick forced himself to keep calm.
The men around him were doing their best to empty the container as fast as possible.
It wasn’t until they were three-fourths of the way through the container when Brick began to panic again.
There’d been no sign of Alaska. He was starting to wonder if she was actually inside one of the boxes they’d removed.
If so, she would’ve had to be crumpled like a piece of fucking trash to fit.
He was contemplating opening up the larger crates after looking inside the Conex and realizing there were only a few boxes remaining. He ignored the looks of sympathy and frustration on the faces around him.
She isn’t here. The employee lied…
No. Brick wouldn’t believe it.
He’d seen the man. Seen the fear on his face. Had heard the sincerity in his voice when he repeated what he knew. Alaska was here. He felt it.
“What now?” Tiny asked. “Start opening the crates?”
Brick nodded, carefully studying the container…then slowly tilting his head as something occurred to him. “Wait, no—the spacing is off in here. There are twenty panels on the outside of the container. I only count eighteen in here.”
Each metal panel was about a foot wide. The inside of the container was two feet shorter than what it should’ve been.
“False wall,” Brick and Tiny said together.
The Russians agreed, and soon were trying to figure out how to take down the sheet of metal at the back end of the container, which appeared seamless. It took everything within Brick to stand back and let them work. Alaska was behind that wall. He knew it.
One of the men let out an excited exclamation as he pried back a section of the false wall near the floor.
Instantly, a screech that sounded as if it had come from a wounded animal echoed around the space. Several of the men covered their ears, stumbling back—but Brick moved forward.
He hated the sound. The terror behind it made him want to both cry and fucking kill someone. Yet still, he reveled in it.
That sound meant they’d found Alaska.
Brick pushed a few men out of his way as he approached the opening.
One of the Russians held a high-powered flashlight, pointing it into the twenty-four-inch gap between the false wall and back of the container.
The light was so bright, it made Brick’s eyes water—and he hadn’t been kept in a dark, confined space for too fucking long.
“Turn it off,” he growled, shoving the man’s arm away from the hole. “You’re fucking blinding her!”
Someone translated his words, and the beam of light cut off.
Brick got down on his hands and knees and stuck his head into the hole. He couldn’t see a damn thing. “Alaska?”
“I’ll fucking kill you if you get any closer!”
Her words were mere gasps. Her voice rough and scratchy. As if she’d been screaming for help…which she probably had.
“It’s me, Brick. Drake. You’re safe.”
All he could hear for a moment was harsh breathing. Then, “No, you aren’t. You’re trying to get me to let down my guard. Fuck you! If you get your dick anywhere near me, I’ll tear it off!”
Brick heard a few disbelieving chuckles behind him, but he wasn’t amused.
Not in the least. “It’s really me, Al. Remember when we were around ten and playing War, and I had the bright idea to hide under old lady Harrison’s trailer?
I came face-to-face with that snake and it scared the shit out of me.
But you calmly reached over and pulled it away from me.
I think that was when I realized how brave and amazing you are.
Every day since, you’ve continued to impress me. ”
“Drake?” she whispered.
“Yeah, honey. It’s me. I’m going to come to you, okay?” The stench of body odor and human waste burned his nostrils, but Brick ignored it. His only concern was Alaska. She was alive—and he was so damn thankful. He also hoped she was unharmed…at least physically.
They’d deal with the mental ramifications of her captivity once they were home and she was safe.
A whimper sounded, and Brick took that as consent.
His shoulders were almost as wide as the fucking space she was in, and he had to shimmy and squirm as he crawled toward her on his hands and knees.
Brick was thankful that whoever was holding the bright-as-the-fucking-sun flashlight had turned it on again, pointing it at the floor of the space, giving him just enough light to see her huddling in the corner.
However, seeing Alaska was almost as painful as not knowing where she’d been.
Her eyes were slits, as if even the minuscule amount of light coming from the hole was too much.
She seemed smaller than he remembered…but it was the look of torment and devastation on her face that threatened to overwhelm him.
“I’m here,” he said softly.
“You came,” she whispered.
“Fuck yeah, I did,” he replied in a low, trembling voice. “I told you that if you ever needed anything, all you had to do was say the word and I’d be there for you. I’m just sorry it took me so long.”
“As soon as he hung up, he put me in here,” she whimpered. “He told you he’d wait for the money to arrive.”
“He won’t ever hurt you again,” Brick promised, one hand stretched toward her.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he didn’t want to do anything that would hurt or alarm her.
He had no idea if she’d been assaulted or raped before she’d been put in this fucking box.
The last thing he wanted to do was add to her trauma.
“He’s not gonna be happy. He said the guy he sold me to is powerful.”
“Shhh,” Brick crooned. “I’m going to touch you now. Is that okay?”
“Yes, but…Drake…I’m dirty.”
“Don’t care,” he said.
“I had to poop in a bucket,” she said in a voice that he had to strain to hear.
“Still don’t care.” Brick touched her hand—and she jerked back so fast he heard her elbow hit the metal wall next to her. “Easy, Al.”
He scooted as close as he could, then slowly took her face in his hands. Her skin felt cold against his warm palms, yet he couldn’t help but relax a fraction when she tilted her head slightly, giving him some of her weight.
Her hands reached up and she gripped his wrists tightly, almost painfully.
“Your only job, from now until the moment we get on the plane back to the States, is to concentrate on me. No one else. Understand?”