Serving the Soldier - Part 5 (An Alpha Military Romance) (2 page)

“Get out.”

I stared at him. I didn’t want to get out of the car. I didn’t want to go wherever it was they were taking me or face what they had in store for me. I wanted to go home. Home to my own bed, in my own apartment, and my own boring life. I wanted this to be a nightmare that I would wake from. I didn’t want anything to do with this—

“Get out!” he shouted.

He reached inside and grabbed the waistband of my pants, yanking me toward the door. With my hands tied behind my back, I could do little to protest. I tried to kick at him with one of my feet, hoping that my foot would make contact with his balls, but I only managed a glancing blow against his upper thigh. He shouted at me in his native language, swear words most likely, and then literally pulled me out of the car. I landed in a heap on asphalt pavement. He swung his foot back to kick me, but Khalil said one word and he stopped.

“Ajmal.”

Ajmal didn’t kick me, but he did reach down and roughly pull me up from the pavement. My legs felt half-asleep, tingling painfully after being tied so tightly. My right foot was asleep. I lost my balance and fell against him, nearly knocking him off balance too.

He growled low in his throat, snarled another word in his language, and pushed me away. I barely caught my own myself before I ended up on the asphalt again. Oh, how I wished to kick him in the balls, rip his eyes out, do something to make him suffer, but I couldn’t. I was helpless, and my blinding anger wasn’t helping. I felt infuriated by my own helplessness.

The man who had been driving the car and the one sitting in the front passenger seat both turned to stare at me. You could have knocked me over with a feather. They weren’t Middle Easterners; they were white. The driver, with short cropped blond hair and a goatee, looked at me, made an obvious show of licking his lips as he ogled me from head to toe and then glanced toward his partner.

“Well, Mohammed, look what we have here. She seems to have a temper, doesn’t she?”

The other one laughed, but said nothing. Like his partner, he was also white, with brown hair and pale features. Mohammed? He had no accent. He and the other white guy were obviously converts to Islam and had chosen appropriate Muslim names for themselves. I briefly wondered what had caused these two to grow so disillusioned as to become home-grown terrorists, then decided it didn’t matter – at least not in regard to my fate.

“Get her inside,” the blond ordered.

I saw the look that Khalil gave him, and the blond man’s show of sudden acquiescence. It became obvious to me then that Khalil was the man in charge. I wondered if there was trouble between them. Khalil shrugged, and giving a small nod, stayed behind the entire group as I was guided into the darkness shadowing the front of the warehouse.

They walked toward the warehouse, forcing me to follow. I still couldn’t tell what this place was, or where we could be, but the minute one of the metal doors were opened and we stepped inside, I got the faint whiff of chemicals. My foot brushed up against something soft. The resulting squeak made me cringe. Rats? Great.

I said nothing as Ajmal grasped my upper arm and roughly guided me to one side of the building. It smelt like gasoline combined with a strong scent of chlorine or something similar, and old, rusted metal. Several metal folding chairs were scattered over on one side. A card table had been set up, now littered with empty fast food containers and a couple of beer bottles. Beer bottles? I thought Muslims didn’t drink.

“Sit down,” Ajmal snapped, literally shoving me toward one of the folding chairs. I landed sideways on the chair and both the chair and I crashed to the ground with a loud clatter. Laughter erupted. I bit my lips against the pain and blinked back my tears as I fell sharply on my shoulder. My adrenaline was surging, but it had nowhere to go, leaving me with a horrible case of the jitters.

“Get up!” Ajmal ordered.

I scrambled to sit up, and then slowly got to my feet. My hands were beginning to feel numb. He reached down and lifted the chair from the floor and set it back on its four legs, then once again gestured.

“Sit down.”

I sat, but the moment I did, he grabbed the back of the chair and began to tug it and me toward an upright beam not far from the table. Then I saw the flash of the knife blade again. Was this it? Was he going to slit my throat? No, he wanted information, I tried to rationalize. Until he caught Jax or until I gave them the information they wanted, maybe they would keep me alive.

He grasped the gag, pulling my head back with it. Then I felt a harsh jerk and realized he had slashed the gag at the back, near the knot. It fell away from my mouth and landed in my lap. Once again, I tried to spit out fibers left behind.

Then I felt the knife slash at the bindings on my wrists and they fell forward and hung by my sides, so numb I couldn’t even pull them into my lap. I slowly worked my fingers, trying to get blood back into them.

My relief didn’t last long. In a matter of seconds, he grabbed my left wrist, pulled it behind the chair and around the back of the post, and then repeated the process with my other arm. Great. Now my hands were being tied to the post. I tried to keep my wrists slightly separated, but he would have none of it. With one strong hand, he pressed my forearms together and then rebound my hands, even tighter than they had been before.

“It’s too tight,” I complained. “I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t have to cut off my circulation.”

His resulting response was to smack me on the side of my head. I failed in my attempt to bite back a retort. I felt terrified and more than a little pissed off. My temper roiled. “You creep—”

“Shut up.”

Moving around to the front of the chair, he eyed my feet. I knew he was wary of me kicking him again. He took another step back into the side and then, one at a time, despite my efforts to elude his grasp, he grabbed an ankle and tied it to the corresponding leg of the chair. He obviously wasn’t taking any chances. Oh, how I wished I had managed to get at least one good smack into his balls.

As soon as I was tied, Ajmal moved off to join the others on the other side of the table. They spoke quietly among themselves in that foreign language, but I did manage to catch one word. Andrews.

Finally, the older one named Khalil broke off from the group and approached me. He stared down at me for several moments, as if assessing. I stared back up at him, trying to hide my fear.

“We want to talk to Andrews. What is his number?”

I stared up at him in amazement. Did he really think I could give him Jax’s phone number? As if I knew. Jax had keyed his phone number into my speed dial. I hadn’t memorized it, hadn’t even glanced at it. “I don’t know his number—”

He lifted his hand as if to slap me. I protested. “Honest, I don’t know his number!”

He frowned in doubt. “How do you contact him?”

“I don’t!” I replied honestly. “If he needed something I’m sure he would call—“

“So you do have his number.”

Shit.

He stepped closer, his gaze threatening. “You have his number on your cellphone.”

I gulped. It wasn’t a question. “I didn’t memorize it!”

It was then that Khalil glanced at the blond man. The blond man dug into his pocket and pulled out my cell phone. He flipped it open, pressed a few buttons, and then grinned and tossed the phone to Khalil, who caught it midair in one hand. He glanced down at the screen and then pressed a key. Seconds later, he spoke.

“Andrews?”

I heard the sound of a raised voice on the other end. Jax?

“Shut up and listen. If you want to see your girlfriend again, you’ll—”

More shouting from the phone.

“I don’t give a hell who she is to you!” Khalil replied calmly. “We’re going to negotiate. You know what we want. We will trade.”

He turned away and I couldn’t hear anything else. After several seconds, Khalil shook his head. “Don’t try anything stupid or your girlfriend will pay for it.” He paused. “I will call you back in two hours.”

He snapped the phone shut and then turned to stare at me.

“He says you’re not his girlfriend. Who are you?”

I sat frozen, stunned speechless for a moment. Oh, I knew I wasn’t Jax’s girlfriend, but hearing the statement didn’t make me feel any better, or give me any indication that my situation was going to improve. How much quicker would they get rid of me if I couldn’t be used as bait?

“Who are you?” he shouted.

“I told you! I’m his nurse!” I stammered. “My name is Angie–”

“I don’t need to know your name,” he said. “We are going to negotiate… maybe.”

He continued to stare at me until Ajmal stepped up beside him. I tried not to allow my fear to show when I watched Ajmal cup his groin and make a pumping motion with his hips. I had no doubt whatsoever what that meant, in any language. I stared at him in growing horror as my stomach rolled. I cast my glance at Khalil. The older man. He wasn’t looking my way and the white men weren’t even paying attention anymore, but making themselves comfortable on the chairs surrounding the card table. He did glance over his shoulder and scowl at Ajmal.

“You will wait,” he told the younger man. “At least for a little while,” he grinned. “Let us see if he is willing to negotiate. Too bad she is only a nurse.”

Negotiate. Negotiate with what, with whom? What did these men want? This had to be more than revenge or they would have killed me already, wouldn’t they? Unless they wanted to make Jax suffer… to kill everyone around him before killing him. What was it they wanted with me? Although, if I was going to be realistic, I understood that I had suddenly become an unwilling pawn in these negotiations. I wish I had left Jax’s house when I first learned people were after him. Now it was too late. I sat tied up in my chair, my gaze traveling from one to the other, horrible things running through my mind. Was I going to die? Would Jax negotiate? Would he even try to rescue me?

I had no answers to any of these questions. All I could do was try to control my emotions, to swallow my burgeoning fear and prevent the surge of nausea that I felt welling deep inside from overwhelming me.

Oh Lord. I didn’t want to die. I had to survive this, somehow.

The thought kept racing through my head. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Never in my wildest dreams, or nightmares, would I have ever thought I would find myself in such circumstances. My resulting emotions were naturally all over the map. Terror one minute, anger the next. Not only angry at my captors and my situation, but right or wrong, sensible or not, I was growing increasingly angry at Jax. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.

That wasn’t fair, I realized, but at the same time I could hardly deny the truth of it. I was at the risk of losing my life over something I didn’t knew nothing about. Ajmal had repeatedly demanded to know Jax’s location, but I could only answer with the truth. I didn’t know. I could only pray that Jax could outwit the kidnappers, but as the minutes dragged by and my hands grew number, my spirits sank lower. Would he come? How could he? He didn’t even know where I was.

After the initial phone call, nothing happened. The four men sat down at the card table playing some type of a game with dice, completely ignoring me. Well, for the most part anyway. Ajmal kept glancing at me. Every time he did, he licked his lips and stared pointedly at my breasts, then at my groin. Every time his eyes turned toward me I cringed. Would he rape me? Would he dare?

Khalil was in charge of the small group and I wondered how he was related to the men that Jax and his squadron had killed. Was he related to the woman, the woman I had seen emerging from the diner with Jax? What they wanted from Jax I had no idea, nor at the moment did I really care. I had become an unwitting pawn in this confrontation between them. I wanted no part of it, but it was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it?

The initial rush of adrenaline had left my body, leaving me feeling weak and wobbly. If my hands were untied, I’m sure they would be shaking. I was scared out of my wits, but did my best not to show it. I felt exhausted, physically and emotionally.

I had lost the feeling in my hands, and the gag in my mouth tasted funky, a combination of sweat, oil, and some type of food. It was disgusting. I tried to ignore it, because if I didn’t, I knew that sooner or later I would vomit.

I was incredibly thirsty, but didn’t dare ask for water. I wished nothing more than to be back at Jax’s house, lying in my comfortable bed. More than that however, I wished I was back in my own bed, back in my boring, dull apartment. I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this.

I was filled with regret.

I began to wish that I had never met Jax, never decided after that first encounter on the road to stick around. What the hell had I been thinking? I know. I had been thinking about his body, his sexual charm.

After our first physical encounter, the thought of more had enticed me. I had allowed the thought of sex with him to outweigh my common sense. So stupid. I was so stupid. I couldn’t believe I chose to live in a dangerous situation because I was freaking horny.

Stop it!
I told myself.

Beating myself up wasn’t going to help.

I was a civilian, a nurse, so far out of my realm of experience that if I allowed it, I would work myself into a frenzied panic in a matter of seconds. I tried to breathe slowly. In, hold it, then out. Remain calm. Remain calm. The mantra continued.

A burst of laughter pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced at the men sitting around the table. Ajmal was nudging one of the other men, the man who had sat in the front passenger seat. Now they both stared at me, their eyes rude, invasive, and more than suggesting what they wanted to do. Ajmal muttered something to Khalil who glanced between me and the younger. He gave a slight shake of his head, uttering two words.

Unfortunately, the two words I heard were, “maybe later.”

Oh God, where was Jax? It seemed to me as if more than two hours had passed, but then again, every second dragged by. Were they going to offer a trade? Me for the Muslim woman? Did she have anything to do with this whatsoever? What was Jax involved with? What if they didn’t plan to trade me for whatever it was they wanted? What if they just wanted to trap Jax? At least I knew now that he was still alive. They hadn’t ambushed him at the house. It was obvious that they had it out not only for Jax, but the other men in the squadron. I had no doubt whatsoever that they wanted Jax and the rest of the squad to suffer.

I had to be realistic. I knew what they looked like. Then, with a sinking realization, I knew the chances were they would kill me too, regardless of whether Jax showed up or not. They would set Jax up and kill him. Then they’d kill me, after they…

Stop! I couldn’t think that way.

I tried to think dispassionately, although it was extremely difficult. Why not kill me now? The only rationale I could come up with is that I continued to be a bargaining chip. A bargaining chip for what? That was the crux of the matter.

Every time one of the three men looked at me, my stomach turned a somersault. I tried to distract myself, and imagined myself on the beach, in the woods, anywhere but here. If I didn’t get my emotions at least a little bit under control, I was going to crumble into a panic. I had a feeling that if I did, they would probably shoot me, kill me on the spot.

Once again, despite my efforts to pull my mind away from my present circumstances, I heard their voices, this time raised in dissension. Ajmal and the other guy, the blond one, seemed to be disagreeing with Khalil over something. Their eyes kept traveling toward me, and I gathered that they were getting tired of waiting.

“Khalil, let us have some fun to pass the time while we wait for the next call,” Ajmal said, his voice soft but insistent.

Khalil glanced from me to Ajmal, and for a second, he looked as if he was considering. I thought he would finally relent. My eyes widened in panic and I instinctively shook my head. He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!

Khalil scowled at me, and then again at Ajmal. “It is time to call him again. Let us see if he is willing to make a trade.”

A trade. What kind of trade?

Me for the Muslim woman? Doubtful.

Me for something that the squadron had that they didn’t? Again, doubtful. These men could probably get their hands on any kind of weapon, or weapons, they wanted.

Information? Again doubtful. They were dealing with Special Forces. They would know that getting any information out of such men would be extremely difficult, if not impossible. A waste of time.

The only thing left was something personal. Jax for me? Again I doubted it. They wanted Jax dead and I was a witness. I blinked back the tears that burned behind my eyes. I didn’t want to die. This was none of my business. I had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time so what was I supposed to—

I jerked as, suddenly, Ajmal shoved his chair back and stood, scowling. While Khalil pressed the buttons on my phone, ostensibly in an effort to reach Jax, Ajmal stepped toward me, his eyes so filled with hatred and evil that if blood could really turn cold, it would have.

He stopped in front of me, standing so close that he nudged himself between my legs. I stared up at him, trying not to show my fear, but I’m afraid I failed abysmally. He laughed and reached his left hand outward toward me. I thought for sure I would be slapped again, but instead, his hand stroked the side of my head, as if he was petting a cat.

Then, with a snarl, his fists tightened around a handful of hair and he yanked so hard that tears burgeoned in my eyes. I bit back a cry of pain. Then, as abruptly as he had grabbed my hair, he let it go. He squatted down until his eyes were on a level with mine. Each of his hands grasped my knees. Slowly, his fingers tightened until his knuckles practically turned white. I tried my best not to wince as agony sizzled through me.

“After we take care of Andrews, we will have our fun with you, I promise you.”

I stared at him, so revolted and disgusted that if I didn’t have a gag around my mouth I probably would have been tempted to spit in his face. My temper, once riled, often got me into trouble. I didn’t lose my temper often, but now, my mind whirled between pure hatred and a basic instinct for survival. I didn’t know which was better, to show fear or to show defiance. I knew nothing about their culture, other than the fact that women were subjugated and often thought of as less than deserving of any rights.

“Ajmal, get away from her.”

Khalil. He stepped toward me, glaring down at Ajmal, who, though he obeyed, did so slowly and with obvious reluctance.

“Move away.”

Ajmal did as he was told, his eyes continually boring into mine. I glanced at Khalil and then saw him lift my phone. Click. He took my picture and then smirked.

“He will require proof of life,” he explained.

Proof of life? I knew what that meant. Before Jax would negotiate with these terrorists, he would want to know that I was still alive. Then again, they could send them a picture and kill me the instant it was sent, so as far as I was concerned, this so-called proof of life meant nothing.

Khalil then pressed another button on the phone and lifted it to his ear. He stood so close that I heard Jax answer.

“You sons of bitches—”

“Watch your tone, Mister Andrews,” Khalil spoke softly into the phone. “Are you ready to negotiate?”

While I heard Jax’s voice reply, I couldn’t understand what he said. Khalil smiled. “Of course I have proof of life. I shall send it to you now.” Khalil pushed a few more keys on the phone and then waited. I heard the familiar
ding
of a media message being sent. Khalil waited for several moments.

“Have you received it?” A pause. “Yes, she is alive, for now. You have one hour.” Another pause. “I will tell you where to go when I call you back in one hour. You will come alone. If you try any of your trickery, she will die, and it will not be pleasant. Do you understand?” He smiled. “Why, we will cut off a finger, one at a time. We will stuff them down her throat—”

I heard the sound of Jax’s raised voice on the other end. My heart skipped a beat. Khalil laughed, a deeply rumbling noise that made me shiver.

“And then my men will each enjoy her. She is very pretty, isn’t she? If you do not follow directions to the letter, I will start sending you pieces of her, starting with one of her lovely breasts. Do you understand?”

I stared at Khalil in horror. What if Jax decided not to negotiate? What was it that he was supposed to negotiate with? Jax lived by a code of conduct, and negotiating with terrorists was not something that he would even contemplate under most circumstances.

I heard the sound of Jax’s raised voice at the other end, but then Khalil moved away, toward the far side of the warehouse. I didn’t hear anything more. Panic surged within me, and once again, I struggled against my bindings. My wrists were rubbed raw, and I felt a burning sensation in several areas. I knew that I was tearing the skin off my wrists. Still, desperation called for desperate measures and I was definitely desperate. I never knew a body could withstand such fright, but I resisted the urge to succumb to the blackness that hovered around the edges of my consciousness. I had to stay conscious. I had to stay alert.

If any of those pigs so much as came near me or tried to touch me, I resolved that I would fight until I had no strength left. If they took me, it wasn’t going to be easy. My stomach churned and I felt a hot wave of nausea rise up my esophagus. Tamp it down! Tamp it down! I couldn’t allow my fear to run away with me.

Jax would come. He would figure something out. He had to!

Several moments later, Khalil returned to the group. I watched him as he watched me, and then he cast his gaze toward the others. I did too. They were all staring at me. They look like cats ready to attack a flock of birds. I swallowed the acid rising in my throat. I choked back my fear, the sob that threaten to erupt from my throat. I blinked back my tears.

“Untie her.”

The order came from Khalil, and Ajmal quickly stepped forward. I began to shake my head, to utter guttural denials through the gag, but he merely laughed. Once again, he knelt down before me and pulled a knife from a sheath he wore attached to his belt. He flashed the blade in front of my face, sneering. Then, in one swift swipe, he cut the bindings to my feet, first my right leg, then my left. I don’t know what possessed me, but anger surged through me. I lashed out with my right foot and caught him right in the balls.

He cried out and fell back onto his butt, one hand cupping his balls, the other grasping the knife and pointing it at my heart. His friends laughed while he grunted in pain, muttering what I could only assume were death threats at me in his native language.

“Quickly!” Khalil ordered. “Let’s go!”

Scrambling onto his knees, Ajmal slowly got to his feet, and giving my feet a wide berth, stepped behind me. I thought he would slash my arm open in retaliation, but seconds later I felt the bindings fall away from my hands. Tingling and nearly bloodless, my arms again dropped nearly uselessly to my sides. In the next instant, he had his thick, meaty hand clasped around my upper arm, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh, cutting off blood flow. His warm breath touched my ear as he hissed, “You will pay for that, bitch!”

I could offer no retort, the gag still around my mouth. He jerked me forward so hard that I lost my balance and fell. Pain shot through me as I landed on my left shoulder again and then bumped my head against the floor. I saw stars.