Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125 (15 page)

Bashira looked up at Sarah, eyes wet with uncried tears.  A simple nod was all they needed between them.

"But what can you do that she couldn't?"  Samara's loud and anxious voice surprised Sarah.

Sarah smiled at the older woman and without words she reached under her abaya to produce the SIG forty-fives.

Bashira gasped. 
“
Muharib
.”
  She slapped her hand over her mouth.

Sarah understood the whispered word meaning ‘warrior.’  She smiled at Bashira and nodded.

She laid the handguns on the floor in front of her and reached under the abaya again to retrieve a stainless steel throwing knife from the scabbard tied around her leg.

The men passed the SIGs around, admiring them and speaking the international language of men who respect firearms.  Then they passed around the knife.  Muhammad, who apparently questioned the ability to do damage with such a small knife, ran his finger over the blade and cut himself.  A surprised grunt escaped his lips and his brows furrowed as he stared at Sarah, probably unsure what to make of the bold American woman who knew their language and customs and promised payback for his kinswoman’s rape.

Brian assured the men Sarah knew full well how to use the weapons.

They nodded approvingly.

Once the weapons made their way back to her, Sarah holstered the SIGs, wiped the blade with her abaya and tucked the knife back into the scabbard.

The looks of admiration from Bashira and Samara were unmistakable.

Muhammad yawned and Hamza nodded to Brian.  “It is late and the women have
work
to do in the morning.”  The men stood and Sarah followed suit. 

Brian gave Sarah a hug.  “Watch your ass in there.  They’ve probably roughed Vince up.  Just remember he’s a tough S.O.B. and don’t let that temper get the best of you.”

Sarah bit her bottom lip and breathed deep.  “We can do this.”  It had been easier to think about the plan and prepare for battle than to think about what Vince might look like when she got there.

Brian released her from the hug and his eyes sparkled.  “We can do this.”  He glanced around the room, seemingly making a head count, then turned to Sarah.  “Okay, we’ll drop Gino off at his quarters and then Hamza, Abdullah, Muhammad, and I will stay at the Bedouin camp with the rest of the guys.  You’ll walk to Nikolai’s with Samara in the morning.  Jason will pick you up tomorrow night as planned, as soon as you leave Nikolai’s compound.  Got the camera?”

Sarah patted her front pocket through the
abaya
and nodded.

“And no chatting with Chris while you’re inside the house.
 
Too risky.”

Sarah tapped her ear.  “I know. 
Radio silence.
  No worries.” 

Hamza, Abdulla and Muhammad each gave Sarah a deferential nod before leaving.

After the men drove off, Bashira and Samara showed Sarah to the room they shared.  The room was Spartan with a full sized bed being its only furniture.  The three of them were crowded in the bed together.  Sarah was too exhausted to mind.  She had a belly full of good food and would see Vince tomorrow.  She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A light hand shook Sarah’s arm.  Groggy after a night of terrible dreams, she looked to the window.  It was still dark outside, but Samara assured her it was morning and time to go to work.

Butterflies burst into action in Sarah's stomach.

Today I'll finally see Vince.  Today!

Sarah jumped out of bed, ready to finally take action. 

Samara left the room, but Bashira sat up in the bed and quietly watched Sarah prepare.

She slipped on her boots, laced them and stuck the Ka-Bar knife in its hidden scabbard.  She pulled the two small nylon knife cases from her duffel bag and strapped one onto each calf.  She pulled one of the shiny, stainless steel kunai knives out, held it up to the light and smiled at Bashira.

Bashira returned the smile.

Sarah picked up one of the SIGs, ejected the ammunition magazine, locked it in the open position, and eyed the barrel to be sure it was clear.  She smiled, pulled the trigger, and slapped the magazine back in before holstering the loaded weapon.  She did the same with the second handgun.  She plucked two more ammunition magazines from her bag, checked to be sure they were full, and tucked them into a front pocket of the cargo pants under her abaya.  She hoped she wouldn't need the weapons today but felt more secure knowing she had them.

She walked out into the kitchen where Samara had made coffee. 

She handed Sarah a small cup of the strong brew and then handed her a plate of bread and fruit left over from the night before. 

Sarah thanked her and ate quickly.  Her hands were shaking with excitement about finding Vince.  She couldn't get there soon enough.

Samara placed a calming hand over Sarah's.  "He is well.  They have him in a bedroom upstairs.  He is comfortable."

Reassured by Samara’s calm voice, Sarah smiled a grateful smile.  "Yes, but for how long?"

"They will not kill him yet.  They think he will choose to do business with them.  What you do need to worry about is the big Australian."  A shadow came over Samara's face.  "He is a terrible and cruel man.  He will be rough.  Be careful."

Bashira entered the small kitchen as Samara spoke.

Sarah saw the desperate look on Bashira's face and anger rose hot and hateful inside her.  There were many things that could be forgiven, but rape would never be one.  “He’ll pay for what he’s done.  I promise you that.”

"It is time to go."  Samara stood and prepared to leave. 

Sarah flashed Bashira a smile and gulped down the last of her coffee.

No matter what her mission might be, when Sarah was on the job, she always knew Chris had her back…well at least in a technological sense.  Sarah wore a tiny earpiece the size of a pencil eraser that enabled her to communicate with Chris.  She never went into an operation without making sure Chris was with her.  "Chris, can you hear me?"

Chris cleared his throat. 
"Loud and clear, sweetheart.
  Good morning!"

Sarah rolled her eyes.  “I woke you up again, didn’t I?”

“I consider myself one of the honored few.”

She smiled at the compliment. 
"Flatterer.
  Hopefully we find Vince today.  Samara said they're keeping him in a bedroom upstairs."

"Good luck.  Call when you get a fix or if you need the cavalry.  We're standing by."

"Thanks.  I will."

~~~

They saw Nikolai's compound long before they came near it.  High concrete walls kept the desert from swallowing it up.  They walked nearly a mile before they reached the large wooden gate Sarah had seen in the satellite photos.

Sarah examined the ten-foot concrete wall of the compound as she walked through the gate.  She kept her head down in an attempt to avoid raising any suspicions in the sleepy looking man posted at the gate.  The wall was at least two feet thick, and the house was probably twenty yards away from the gate, providing a nice clear zone in case anyone tried to blow the wall or the gate open. 

Nikolai may be bad but he’s no dummy.

All was silent within the walls of the compound.

Samara explained their job.  "I make breakfast while Bashira cleans the common rooms in the morning.  We have one hour before Nikolai and his men wake up.

Sarah took advantage of the time she had to take pictures of everything—walls, windows, gates, doors, hallways.  She didn't go anywhere without taking pictures.  It would make things easier if she could just email the pictures directly to Chris, but Sarah wasn’t the least bit surprised when she didn’t get a signal on her cell phone.

They don’t call it the
Empty Quarter
for nothing.  

She systematically mapped the lower level of the house with photos because she knew it would help when they took the compound.  After she returned to the Bedouin camp, Chris would download the photos and create a virtual map and 3D image for the guys to plan the attack.

Her feet itched with the need to get upstairs and make contact with Vince, but Samara told her the second floor was off limits until Nikolai came downstairs. 

Samara reassured Sarah.  "We brought your man breakfast, lunch and dinner yesterday.  He'll be fine today."

A resigned sigh escaped Sarah’s lips.

The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to
herself
by going upstairs when she shouldn’t be there.  It would be easier to locate him while everyone else was downstairs anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It seemed like forever but Nikolai and his men finally came down to the main floor.  The first man down the stairs was well over six feet and two hundred fifty pounds.  Another followed closely behind him.  He stood just a hint over six feet and looked to be about two hundred pounds.  The two men
busied themselves with a large breakfast laid out in the kitchen by Samara while Sarah took a tray to Nikolai in his office. 

He didn't look up from his computer.  "You're late, girl."

Sarah held back the urge to speak, to spit in Nikolai's face and hold a forty-five to his head until he produced Vince. 

It would be so easy.  I could do it right now and nobody would give a damn. 

The tactical Sarah won out.  She kept her eyes down and walked tentatively like she had watched Bashira do in her home.

Calm down.  We need to destroy this place and send a message.  The last thing we need is to be hunted by the Russian mob for the rest of our lives. 

Nikolai dismissed her as soon as she'd poured his coffee.

She left the room as quickly as she could and made her way upstairs, snapping pictures all the way.  She made the beds as instructed but didn't clean a thing. 

The only thing I’m cleaning here is Nikolai’s clock!

Panic grabbed her by the neck and squeezed as she searched every room for Vince, but he was nowhere to be found.  Her heart raced.

Breathe deep, Sarah.  You don’t need to be one of those stupid movie chicks who
gets
nervous and stupid. 
Get a
frickin
’ grip.

She returned to the kitchen, careful to avoid the two thugs who were on their way out.  The big one grabbed her ass as she walked, but she ignored him and walked a little faster to escape his grip. 

Behind her and in an Australian accent, she heard one of the men speak.  "Yeah, mate.  She wants it again.  When we finish with this Hennessee guy, I'm gonna fix her up."  They both chuckled as they walked away.

Sarah half smiled to herself. 

Somebody's gonna get fixed up all right.  I'm gonna fix you up good, you son of a bitch.

Samara looked up from the dishes with panic in her eyes.  “Don’t let him close to you.”

“He’s the one?”

Samara’s eyes welled with tears as she nodded.

Sarah locked that information away for later when she could use it and focused on the matter at hand.  "Samara, he's not upstairs."

Samara looked back down at the dishes she was washing.  "Then they've put him back in the cell."

"The
cell
?"

"Yes, downstairs. 
The small storage room."

"Was that where the men were going?"

"No, they are going to the village.  They will be back soon, but you have time to check if you go now."  She pointed Sarah to a door off the kitchen that led downstairs.

Sarah's feet barely touched the stairs, her steps quick and silent.  It was a good ten degrees cooler in the basement.  She snapped pictures every few feet but the lighting was poor, and she didn’t want to explain a flash if anyone was down there.  She opened the first door she came to.  It was a large windowless room with a table and a few chairs but nothing else.  The next door she came to was locked.  She said a silent prayer for Vince.  It was answered when she heard a shuffle inside.

She leaned close to the door and hoped she wasn’t about to blow her cover by whispering into it.  "Vince?"

"Sarah?"  The voice was ragged but it was Vince.

Her skin went cold with relief and she placed the palms of her hands against the door to be just a few inches closer to him.  "Thank God you're alive!"

She heard footsteps behind the door.  "Sarah, did they catch you?"  His voice came from only inches away this time. 

Sarah smiled.  "No.  I'm here to take you home."

"Are the guys with you?"

Sarah heard a noise at the top of the stairs.  “
Shh
…” 

The Australian was clomping down the stairs.  "He might be a little more willing to talk if we soften him up first."