Wild Captive

by Tripp Ellis

  "Why don't you gentlemen get situated, then join the fun poolside, or in the bar? If you're hungry, grab something to eat. If you need any assistance, please do not hesitate to contact Randall or myself. I encourage you to meet as many girls as possible. Get to know their personalities and see what suits your fancy. And don't worry, your relationship with a girl can last an hour, a day, or for your entire stay. There is no jealousy here on this island, and if you fancy more than one at a time, I'm sure you will find plenty of willing participants. Have fun indulging your fantasies, gentlemen."

  Olga smiled, then spun around and sauntered out of the bungalow, pulling the door shut behind her.

  I glanced to JD.

  "This is going to be a test of willpower."

  "Don't get sidetracked, " I said. "I didn't see Violet as we entered."

  "What if she's not on the island? She could have been sold to someone else. She might be halfway across the globe by now."

  "Let's hope we can find her."

  JD and I made our way down the path to the pool. As we stepped out of the foliage, I surveyed the grounds. My eyes caught sight of something concerning. "Oh shit!"

  "What is it?"

  48

  My jaw clenched, and my fists tightened. "It's Cartwright."

  The man who shot me in Mexico.

  The man who sent me to hell.

  A former Cobra Company agent, now on the run.

  There was a hefty price on his head.

  I didn't care about the money, I wanted revenge. My blood boiled. Cartwright had the potential to screw up our whole plan.

  "Easy there, cowboy," JD said as we hung back behind the cover of the large leafy plants. "You think he saw you?"

  I shrugged. "I hope not. Our cover is blown if he did."

  "I suppose we'll find out pretty quick," JD said. "What a scumbag!"

  I don't know why he doublecrossed me in Mexico and assassinated cartel boss Julio Ruiz. Maybe he had gotten a better offer from somewhere else?

  Cobra Company had vast resources and doublecrossing them wasn't usually prudent. You would have to be offered a hell of a sum of money, and then, I wouldn't recommend it. I blew an opportunity to take Cartwright out in Monaco. I needed to focus my resources on finding Violet. I didn't need to get distracted. I kept reminding myself that taking Cartwright out wouldn't change the past. I knew from experience, it wouldn't make me feel any better. Besides, I was trying to use deadly force only when absolutely necessary. And justified. My trip to hell had been short and unpleasant. But it was long enough to realize I never wanted to go back again. I didn't know if I could change my fate. Was that even possible after all the things I had done?

  All I could do was try. Maybe righting a few wrongs would score me enough points with the big guy to offset whatever I had done that earned me a spot on the naughty list?

  I wasn't much on intangible concepts. I was always a show me kind of guy. Heaven and hell were just abstract notions in my mind. But having visited the latter, it all but forced one to believe in the former.

  Cartwright frolicked in the pool with two beauties. We watched from the foliage as he practically molested the young women in the pool—his hands finding every nook and cranny of their bodies.

  Soon, the trio exited the pool and toweled off. Then they disappeared down another path, heading toward the cabana.

  "He's going to be occupied for the next hour at least," I said. "Let's see if any of the girls know anything about Violet."

  JD and I emerged from the leafy plants and sauntered toward the pool with a wide smile. We grabbed a couple piña colada's at the bar, then mixed and mingled with the beauties.

  We had to work fast.

  By the time our drinks were poured, we were surrounded by a bevy of young, eager ladies.

  Danika seemed to take an interest in me. She was a petite brunette with blue eyes and olive skin. I surveyed her body for obvious signs of injection marks. It was hard to believe any of these girls were here of their own free will. Her skin was flawless, and her arms were free of tracks and bruises. She told me she was from Prague and liked the freedom and flexibility of the island. It wasn't long before she suggested we retire Danika to my bungalow.

  Danika grabbed my hand and led me through the verdant path to our accommodations. I pushed open the door, and she strutted into the foyer. As soon as the door was closed, she pulled the string on her bikini bottoms, and the skimpy fabric fell from her hips.

  She let me stare at her assets for a moment, then she spun around, fully nude, and said, "What would you like to do?"

  I swallowed hard. "I just want to talk."

  I couldn't believe the words came out of my mouth. I would never say something like that in a situation like this, under normal circumstances.

  But the circumstances were anything but normal.

  She smiled. "That's okay. We can talk. I like to talk. Then, maybe we can do other things," she said, seductively.

  We moved into the living room and took a seat on the couch. She scooted close and draped an arm around me.

  My pulse quickened.

  I cleared my throat. "I'm looking for someone in particular."

  She looked surprised. "Oh, am I not what you're looking for? I can certainly help find someone who suits your tastes better."

  "No, no. I think you're perfect. You're beautiful, and stunning, and…"

  She inched even closer.

  "I'm looking for a girl named Violet. She may be known under a different name here."

  I described her appearance.

  She looked at me blankly, starting to get uncomfortable. "I don't recall meeting a girl that fits that description. Why are you looking for her?"

  "How did you get here?" I asked.

  She chuckled. "Like everybody else. On a plane."

  "No, I mean, how did you come to be on this island?"

  She hesitated then shifted, unconsciously pulling away from me. "I met a guy in Prague who said I could make a lot more money and have more fun here, and I said okay. The next thing I knew, I was in paradise."

  "So, you're here of your own free will?"

  "Absolutely."

  I wasn't sure I believed her.

  "Is every girl here of their own free will."

  She forced a smile. "I really don't know what you're getting at."

  "Can you leave whenever you want?"

  "Of course." She hesitated. "I mean, I've got to reimburse Randall for the airfare here, clothing, the accommodations while I stay, plus there is tip out to the house."

  "So you're in debt to the establishment?"

  "Yeah, but I'm working it off. And I'm having fun doing it."

  "Are you?"

  "Sure. It's just a big party. I drink and have sex all day and all night. What more could you want?"

  There was a long, awkward pause.

  She slid closer again. "Speaking of sex, are we going to get down to it?"

  49

  "You're a very beautiful girl," I said. "But I don't think we should get down to it."

  Danika frowned.

  "You can tell Randall we did."

  “You know, if you're nervous, we have chemical assistance. Just in case you need to combat stage fright."

  "I don't have stage fright," I assured her.

  "If you didn't come here to enjoy the amenities, why did you come here?" she asked. "The girl you asked about. What was her name?"

  "Violet."

  "You think she's here against her will, don't you?"

  "I'm sure of it."

  "I can tell you, I haven't met a girl yet that's here against her will." Danika said. "I think you’ve got the wrong idea about this place. Society says it's wrong for me to sell my body. But it's my body. I should be able to do what I want with it, right?"

  I took a deep breath. "If this is what you want to do, then who am I to say otherwise? But I just don't think every girl here shares your enthusiasm."

  I still couldn't tell if wha
t she was saying reflected her true feelings, or if she was toeing the party line. Then it dawned on me.

  The rooms were most likely under surveillance.

  Someone was watching us, and she was saying everything that they wanted her to say.

  It was foolish of me not to sweep the place for listening devices or hidden cameras. But the damn things were so tiny now, they were nearly impossible to find without the proper equipment.

  "Are you sure I can't tempt you?" Danika asked one last time before she left.

  "Believe me, it's tempting." I smiled.

  She pulled on her bikini bottoms and slipped out of the bungalow.

  I sprang from the couch and searched for surveillance devices. I scoured the plants, behind the picture frames, the bookshelf. I examined the smoke detector overhead.

  I didn't find anything.

  The flatscreen display was a smart television with a forward facing camera. It could easily have been hacked.

  Or maybe my paranoia was just getting the best of me?

  I left the bungalow and headed down the path, looking for JD. Before I reached the pool, several goons emerged from the foliage, wielding pistols. The deadly barrels aimed straight at my face.

  There was nothing I could do. I sensed someone behind me, but before I could react somebody cracked me in the back of the head with the grip of a pistol. Pain shot through my skull and down my neck. My vision faded as I tumbled to the ground.

  I woke up sometime later, tied to a chair in a dingy, dark room.

  It was safe to assume my cover had been blown.

  I don't know if they surveilled the room, or if the girl had told Randall I was asking too many questions? It didn't really matter.

  JD and I had rushed into the scenario like a couple of cowboys. We didn't plan or prepare. We were just going to wing it. That cavalier attitude bit us in the ass.

  Randall and Cartwright hovered over me. My eyes gazed up at them with disdain.

  "I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you," Cartwright said. "You truly have nine lives. It's too bad you've used all of them up."

  "If I get out of this chair, I'm going to go through all of your lives really quick."

  Cartwright chuckled.

  Randall didn't find anything amusing about the situation. He expressed his displeasure with a fist to my face. His knuckle slapped against my cheek and wrenched my head to the side, launching a stream of blood from my lips.

  The tinny metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and I spit a pinkish mix of goo onto the floor. I stretched my jaw, moving it from side to side, trying to work out the soreness.

  "You think you can come down to my island and fuck with my operation?" Randall snarled.

  "I think there's been some misunderstanding."

  "You're damn right there has," Randall growled. "You fly down here on my dime and think you’re going to take my merchandise? You've got another thing coming."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Don't play dumb with me," Randall said.

  "I'm just here for a good time," I said.

  I usually held to the philosophy of deny till death—even if someone had evidence to the contrary.

  “I know you're here for Violet,” Randall said. “You think I don’t have all the cabanas bugged? You don’t think my girls don’t tell me exactly what the clients say?”

  I said nothing.

  "Who are you working for?" Randall asked.

  "He's on his own," Cartwright said. "If the Feds were on to you, or he was here on behalf of Cobra Company, the island would be swarming with agents.”

  "When I don't check in with my team, they'll send in the calvary," I lied.

  Cartwright laughed. "Don't try to bullshit me."

  "Why am I not surprised that you two know each other?" I said.

  "Actually, we met on the French Riviera,” Cartwright said. “Randall was kind enough to invite me down to paradise, and who was I to refuse? When I saw you here, I knew it couldn't be anything good. So I decided to clue Randall in. I guess that's just bad luck for you?”

  "This is all part of my plan,” I said.

  They both laughed at that.

  "Where's JD?" I asked.

  "The faux rockstar?" Randall asked. "He's being dealt with. If there's one thing I don't like, it’s being lied to."

  "I see you're a man of honor," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  His knuckles smacked my face again. It felt like someone had taken a ball-peen hammer to my eye socket. Stars flickered around my vision for a moment. My head throbbed.

  "You hit like my sister,“ I said.

  That earned me another pop to the nose. Blood gushed from my nostrils, rolling over my lips, into my mouth. The sanguine river dripped down my chin and stained my shirt.

  I liked that shirt.

  “Does this mean we’re not friends anymore?" I asked.

  He sneered at me, and the only reason he didn't hit me again was because his knuckles were gashed and bleeding from my teeth. He pulled a silk pocket square from his white linen suit and wiped his bloody knuckles. The only consolation I had was that his suit had blood spatter on it.

  "Where's Violet?" I asked.

  "Oh, don't worry. She's safe and sound. She's in training."

  I wondered what that meant.

  "It takes a little time for the girls to adjust when they first arrive. We try to make it as pleasant and as fun for them as we can. All of their needs are met. They receive excellent meals, luxurious appointments, new clothes, and all the booze and illicit substances they want. We make it so they don't want to leave. Why would anyone go back to the doldrums of their daily existence when they can live in paradise? All they have to do is perform a few obligatory services. Things they'd give away to their boyfriends for free anyway. If they misbehave, they get cut off," Randall said, matter of fact. “A few days without a fix, and they're willing to do anything."

  I glared at the scumbag and struggled against my bonds. My wrists and ankles were tied tight against the chair. I wanted nothing more than to beat Randall to death with my bare hands.

  Randall patted Cartwright on the shoulder. "Tell you what, my friend. Take him and that wannabe friend of his out on the boat. See how well they can swim. In return, I'll give you a lifetime membership to the island. You'll never pay for another thing here again."

  Cartwright grinned. "Sounds like a deal."

  50

  The engines roared, leaving a white wake in the clear blue ocean. JD and I bounced around in the cockpit as the boat carved through the waves. Bound at the wrists and ankles with duct tape, we weren't going anywhere. Back to back, JD and I were wrapped almost like mummies in the silver tape.

  Cartwright lorded over us, along with two goons carrying semi-automatic pistols.

  The boat was a 45 foot sportfish—I wasn't sure of the make or model. I didn't get a look at the amenities. I couldn't tell you anything about the engines. All I knew was it was taking us out to our doom.

  "Just out of curiosity," I said. "How much did you get paid for Mexico?"

  Cartwright smiled. "Enough."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "Look at me. I don't have a care in the world.”

  "Cobra Company will hunt you down to the ends of the earth."

  He burst into laughter.

  "What makes you think it wasn't Cobra Company that hired me to kill you?"

  That hung in the air for a long moment.

  My jaw tightened, and I glared at him with hatred. The world spun, and nothing looked the same. My perspective was forever changed.

  Had I been betrayed? Or was he just fucking with my head? Pouring salt in the wound? A last bit of fun before he plunged me to the bottom of the ocean?

  Cartwright called into the salon. "I think we're far enough out."

  The helmsman cut the engine, and the boat drifted on the water. It was calm and quiet. The sun was high overhead, burning down on my face
. Gulls had followed the boat out to sea. They squawked as they circled around, looking for tasty morsels.

  There were worse places to die.

  But I had no intention of dying just yet.

  Cartwright tied an anchor rode around our ankles.

  The two goons hoisted us from the deck and shoved us overboard. We splashed into the teal blue water and attempted to bob for air.

  I don't know if you've ever tried to tread water with your hands and wrists tied, but it's not very efficient. My head plummeted underwater, and I wriggled and writhed, trying to stay afloat. Tied to JD, we had to work together.

  We managed to get in rhythm, and my head broke through the surface. I swallowed a breath of air before sinking back down.

  Each time I surfaced, I caught a glimpse of Cartwright as he leaned over the transom.

  "I could watch this all day, but I've got better things to do,” he shouted as I gasped for breath. He had a diabolical glint in his eyes.

  He grabbed a Danforth anchor and tossed it overboard. The heavy anchor pierced the water and plunged toward the bottom. The anchor rode tightened, tugging at my ankles, pulling me to the murky depths. It was all I could do to stay afloat before—now, with a 30 pound anchor attached, I sank to the bottom like a stone.

  It felt like someone had jammed an ice pick into my ears as the pressure increased. I swallowed, trying to equalize the pressure, and my ears popped. I plunged through the water—the surf getting farther and farther away.

  A plume of dust erupted from the sea floor as the anchor crashed into the soft sand. We hovered 15 feet above it like a helium balloon attached to a string.

  The boat's engines cranked up, and the propeller spun. The vessel banked around and headed back to shore.

  We were at least 100 feet down. It was a long way to the surface, and my lungs were already burning.

  I began to wonder if now was the time to start coming to grips with my mortality?