Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  A whimper came to her lips. As far as she could see, in every direction, she was surrounded by water. She was on a freighter ship in the middle of the ocean. The reality of her situation careened through her mind. A gust of wind swept over her, and her teeth chattered. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, only the dress blouse and slacks she had on when she left the White House. Flashes of memories shot through her mind. Kadir with Dexter on his lap, her handing him the thumb drive, Kadir hitting her, pain in her neck, darkness and voices, then nothing. Her body shook violently now, from the cold and the anger at what she knew Kadir had planned for her. She might be going a little shocky, too, so she needed to find warmth. She rubbed her arms. The damp sea air coated her skin.

  Standing along the railing of the ship, she had a better view of the stacks and rows of storage containers. Her prison was at the bottom of a tower of other containers with several towers side by side. There must be hundreds or over a thousand containers on board. The mechanical noise she’d heard was the freighter’s engines. Since she couldn’t see lights on the coastline, the ship had to be at least forty miles offshore. Even if she could get a cell phone, she wouldn’t have service. But these ships did have Internet connections and a radio.

  What kind of deal had Kadir made with the men in charge of the freighter? She had to assume they knew she was on board as private cargo. How much had he paid for her passage? Passage to where?

  Survival mode kicked in as she considered her resources and options. Assess the situation and make a plan. Determine her location and direction and communicate with her team, or anyone who could rescue her.

  As she crept along the deck toward the bridge at the stern, she tried to find something that told her what ship she was on. Lifeboats bore the words Cape Sienna. Spotlights shone onto a large blue smokestack with an orange S on the side. Far in the distance she saw lights on the water. An island? It was a cruise ship moving away at an angle and fast. Too far away to be of any help. The sky was partially clear, and by the stars, she estimated she was heading east. Even this much information wouldn’t make it easy for them to find her.

  Examining one of the lifeboats, she checked out the rigging and crane work. Then she looked over the port side. Even in the dark, she could see that a white wake churned along the hull of the ship. It was moving too fast to attempt to drop the lifeboat, even if she could operate the crane.

  Footsteps on deck made her jump. She ducked behind a stairway, hiding in the shadows. A crewman walked up the deck, making his rounds, she assumed. She made her way toward the bow in the opposite direction, opened a door and went inside. Climbing stairs, she listened and peered around the doorway to the next level. The hallway was empty for the moment. She had no idea what time it was. Was the crew having dinner or asleep? She crept up the stairs to the top level, where the bridge was, and noticed two men in the control room, one at a wheel steering and another at a control panel. The radio was above the man steering the ship. The chances of her fighting off both men before she could get a call out and the rest of the crew stormed in weren’t good. Sweat rolled down her neck, and she shivered as a gust of wind blew through the open windows.

  She was on a ship full of men, and she had no weapons and very little nautical knowledge, nowhere to run. She was from Ohio, so she knew her way around forests and farms, not boats. Quietly, she backed up and returned down the metal steps. From one level, she heard voices. She traversed the passage and peeked into a crew dining area and lounge. Four men were sitting around a table playing cards and drinking something alcoholic by the looks of the amber liquid. Another man, stretched out on a sofa, was sound asleep. An old shark horror movie played in the background. A computer was set up on a desk in the corner, but she’d never get to it with those men in the way. A clock on the wall said one thirty. Good, the rest of the crew must be asleep. But how many?

  Someone ran up another set of stairs. Zoe waited, unsure which way to go. Then another person ascended from the other side. Trapped. She was frozen in fear, her heart pounding so hard she swore they could hear it. They had to know she was here, or missing from her container prison. She had to move, fight, run, something, anything. She shifted along the bulkhead until she reached a door, opened it and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

  Listening, she waited. The two men talked, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Then they continued down the hall.

  “Hey, where did you come from?” a man’s voice said from behind her.

  A chill frizzled up her back. She turned around inside the small stateroom. A young guy with wavy, black hair and who looked barely twenty lay on a bunk bed, a laptop propped across his thighs.

  “Sorry to barge in,” she said. “I guess I got the wrong room. You get Internet on that?” Zoe pointed to his computer.

  “Hey.” He sat up and frowned. “You’re not crew, and I didn’t see you board. Stowaway?” He grinned, amused.

  Zoe smiled and shrugged. Good, maybe all the crew didn’t know she was Kadir’s prisoner.

  “I won’t tell.” He gave her a suggestive grin. “You can stay here.” He patted the bed beside him.

  Terrific. His price for silence.

  “Thanks, appreciate that,” she said sweetly. “May I?” She indicated the computer.

  “What do you want with it?”

  “I want to contact my friends, let them know I’m on my way. I have a backpack hidden in a storeroom.” She frowned. “I shouldn’t go out for it now. Someone might see me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll get it for you later.” He handed her his computer. “Make it quick, then get on over here.”

  “Thanks.” She propped the computer on the tiny sink so he couldn’t see the screen and started typing like a maniac.

  “So why did you stow away? Running away from a boyfriend? Husband? Did he give you that black eye?” the guy asked with disdain.

  Zoe glanced in the mirror over the sink. Her hair was mussed, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. Her right cheek was slightly swollen and black and blue. Hanging her head, she tried covering her cheek with her hair. “Boyfriend. He said he’d kill me next time. I had to get away.”

  He grimaced and brushed back her hair. “What a bastard. Does it hurt? Are you hungry?”

  She touched it. “A little. And yes to hungry. That’s sweet of you.” Gain an ally, good. Play along, but don’t overdo it. She hoped she didn’t have to kill him. He was barely a kid and probably had no idea that this ship was carrying an abducted slave. What else could be in the containers? Typing in the Skype number, she held her breath, waiting for the connection. “I’ll be quick.”

  She heard angry shouts from down the hall and running up or down metal steps.

  The connection was taking forever to go through.

  Hurry, hurry.

  CHAPTER 26

  Jason sat at Zoe’s kitchen table, staring into a cup of cold coffee. Dexter lay at his feet. The dog hadn’t left his side since she’d gone missing. A hand rested on his shoulder. “You’ve been up over thirty hours. Get some rest. The second I hear anything, I’ll call you.” Frank had been in touch will all the authorities, and there hadn’t been anything concrete reported.

  “What about Guzman?” Jason asked. “Did he get anything out of Kadir? I know the bastard knows where she is. What about her brother?”

  “Diplomatic immunity prevents us from doing much. It’s not been confirmed that Damien’s team is being held, but he’s missing. Usually, if terrorists have them, they like to send video with demands. They like the publicity. That hasn’t happened,” Frank said with a grim smile. “It could be a good sign or bad. Hard to say.”

  Jason rubbed his face. The weight of this disaster dragged him down where he barely had the will to breathe. “Any idea what happened?”

  Frank made a face. “We’ve lost communication, and they missed their evac point. Could mean they had a change of plans.”

  He looked up at Frank and shook his head. “It’s been
over twenty-four hours. You know what that means with an abduction case.”

  “Jason, she’s alive. Kadir wants her. She’s White House staff but also CIA. General Guzman will authorize whatever military action necessary to get her back.”

  “A lot of good it will do if we don’t know where she is.” Jason got up and filled Dexter’s water dish, then made another pot of coffee. “Want some coffee?”

  Frank paced the room. He pointed to the bedroom. “Close your eyes for one hour. Tyler is going to take over here by then. I’ll wake you if I hear anything.”

  Jason nodded, finally agreeing. His phone buzzed, a different tune. Not a phone call or text. Someone was trying to Skype him.

  “Frank!” Jason waved to Frank as he answered the Skype. The screen opened up, and Zoe was there, her hair disheveled, eyes wide.

  “Jason? You there?” she whispered.

  “My God. Zoe, where are you? You okay?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. He heard voices in the background. “They’re coming. They know I got out.”

  “Where?” He gripped the phone so hard, he was afraid it might crack.

  She took a breath. “Freight ship, Cape Sienna, heading east. We passed a cruise ship about an hour ago.”

  “What cruise line?”

  “Don’t know.” She looked away from the screen. A male voice in the background asked her a question. “Talking to friends,” she answered the guy.

  “Who’s there with you?”

  “I’m Alex,” the guy answered, chuckling. “Who are you?”

  Jason ignored him. “Zoe, anything else you can tell us?”

  “I don’t know. Kadir uses doubles. He has Damien.” She turned to the guy. “Alex, what port are we heading to?” The voices in the background were now yelling.

  Jason clearly heard, “The bitch has got to be here somewhere.” Then pounding on a door. He saw the face of a man, not Alex, and then the screen went blank.

  Jason called up a Web site that showed the locations for all ships, trading vessels, private boats and fishing boats currently out to sea. Satellites used onboard GPS instruments to track the ships. He punched in a search for Cape Sienna.

  “Where?” Frank yelled. He started punching in a phone number then stopped.

  “Couple hours out in the Atlantic. Destination is Port of Valencia, Spain. They left out of Norfolk. Why aren’t you calling the Coast Guard or FBI?”

  “What about the mission? The FLC? Won’t we risk exposure?” Frank asked.

  “Are you crazy? Screw the mission and the FLC. We’re getting her back.”

  Frank rubbed his forehead and pressed his lips together. “What about the assassin? No one in the FLC knows who he is, but his primary job is to eliminate any threat of exposure.”

  Jason’s body went rigid. His firearm was at his hip. Could he reach it in time if he needed it? Frank was armed, too. “Am I a threat?”

  Frank shrugged. “It’s something to consider. I don’t know if the assassin would consider you or Zoe a threat, or me, if I helped.”

  Jason glared at Frank. “Zoe’s a White House employee who has been abducted by a man known to have connections with terrorists and human trafficking. That’s all we have to tell authorities. And she was CIA.”

  Nodding, Frank raised his phone and started calling.

  ***

  “How did you get out?” a big man with dark hair and Middle Eastern accent asked Zoe.

  Two other men stood in the hallway. They didn’t have weapons. Perhaps the weapons were locked up and only the captain and supervisor had access. On the long trans-Atlantic voyages, lots of alcohol probably passed the time, so easy access to guns was not a good idea. The man turned to Alex. “Why didn’t you report her?”

  “Who is she? I thought she was a stowaway running from her boyfriend. Who hit her?”

  Zoe took that opportunity to slam her foot onto the big man’s instep, elbow his ribs, swing around and with the heel of her hand smash his nose. The sound of the crunch and his yells told her she had been on target. With the same momentum, she took out one guy’s kneecap, and as he went down, she chopped the other guy’s windpipe. With the three men gasping and screaming in pain, she ran. But where? How long would it take until Jason found her? Could she barricade herself inside somewhere? Would the name of the ship be enough?

  Running up the stairs to a higher level, she looked for a pipe or something she could use for a weapon. Sooner or later, the captain would get the guns out. She’d be captured unless she could hole up somewhere. She tried several metal doors, and they were either locked or led to larger areas. No place to run, no place to hide.

  Voices and footsteps were close behind. As she charged through one doorway, a man grabbed her. She fought, using martial arts and crazed-woman punches and fingernails. The guy released her. As she started to turn around, someone slammed her between the shoulder blades, knocking the wind out of her and shoving her down a flight of stairs. As she tumbled, her elbows, knees and head banged all the way down. At the bottom, she was too stunned and in pain to move. She wasn’t sure if she’d broken anything.

  Someone stepped on her arm. It hurt, bad. The barrel of an AR-15 pressed against her temple. “You done?” Another man—stocky, dark, bearded—glared down at her.

  She nodded.

  “Get up,” he ordered. He got off her arm.

  She rolled to her knees and tried to stand. Her head spun, but thankfully, she didn’t think she had any—

  “Ahhh,” she cried out in pain and grabbed her left forearm. Already, the swelling had started, and discoloration had formed around her wrist.

  “Serves you right if you broke it,” he said. “Help her to the bridge. We may get company if her call got through.”

  “Alex, did she get a message through?” the stocky, bearded guy asked. Zoe suspected he was the captain by his authoritative tone and uniform.

  Alex glanced at Zoe. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I don’t know. The Internet can be slow, and you all were yelling.”

  “What did she tell you?” the captain asked, his patience long gone.

  “She was running away from a boyfriend and meeting friends. That’s it.”

  The captain stared at him for a while to decide if he was telling the truth. “Changing course won’t do any good. We can be tracked. We don’t have enough fuel, and we have deliveries.” He swore and rubbed his beard. “Expect company. I was given her transport papers if we ran into trouble. Kadir had a backup plan.”

  The medic on board gave Zoe something for the pain and immobilized her arm with a splint and bandage. She heard the captain comment that Kadir would be furious when he saw her condition. They gave her a blanket, pillow and some warm food. But they wouldn’t let her out of their sight. It was obvious that keeping her alive was important. They didn’t want to disappoint Kadir.

  Zoe dozed off, from exhaustion and probably from the pain meds. When she woke, it was dawn. The sky had an orange hue, and the sea looked dark and rough. Red in the morning, sailors take warning. After they fed her some oatmeal and coffee, she was feeling better, but the pain in her arm returned.

  “Captain, we have company,” the man at the helm said, looking through binoculars. “And it’s not the Coast Guard.” There were five men on the bridge, and they all had automatic weapons. She estimated there were about fifteen men on board. They were probably strategically posted throughout the ship.

  “It’s too fast for the Coast Guard. Who the hell is it?” the captain asked.

  “No, sir. It’s a Navy vessel. They signaled for us to stop engines and hold position.”

  The captain gave a grunt. “The Navy has no right to hold us up.”

  “Order from the Coast Guard, they said,” the crewman amended. “I think they have more firepower on that ship than we have in automatic weapons.”

  “Fuck. Hold position,” the captain said. He punched the chair he was standing behind. The Navy vessel approached and cir
cled the freight ship like a giant, gray shark.

  Zoe felt the butterflies waking up in her gut. They’d found her.

  The distant sound of helicopter blades in the dawn stillness was a welcoming sound. She didn’t make eye contact with the freighter’s crew.

  “Coast Guard vessel off port bow,” the crewman with the binoculars announced. “And two helicopters.”

  “Take her below. Have the doc stay with her,” the captain ordered.

  “Captain,” Zoe said, trying to reason with him. “Think of your cargo and your men. Turn me over and face a few fines. Claim you weren’t aware I was trapped in one of those containers.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You were my cargo, my most valuable merchandise, and now you’re my hostage.” He turned to Alex. “Get her off the bridge.”

  As Alex led her out, she overheard the other crewman ask the captain, “Who the hell is she? You said someone’s spoiled daughter who ran away.”

  “Nevermind who she is,” the captain said. “I want the crew positioned around the ship. No one is getting on.”

  Alex had a firm grip on her right arm as he pulled her through the narrow passageways toward the infirmary, where the doctor had checked her arm, rewrapped it and given her an ice pack. Alex’s face was stern and confused. “You lied to me,” he spat out.

  “I didn’t know who I could trust.”

  He glanced at her suspiciously. “You could’ve told me.”

  “That I was abducted? For the white-slave trade or worse?”

  His jaw dropped, and he stopped walking. “Is that was this is? No lie?”

  “It’s more involved, but yes. It’s true. The Coast Guard will board this vessel, and crew members who resist will face criminal charges and jail.”

  He groaned and shook his head. “Man, I don’t want to do jail time. This is bad.”