Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  “Then help me. How can I get a weapon?”

  He looked up and down the passageway before speaking. “I have a gun in my cabin. We’re not supposed to, but I have one.”

  When they got to Alex’s cabin, the rat-tat-tat of automatic rifles sounded above them on deck. Then footsteps raced down the passageway by Alex’s room. More shots.

  “Stay here,” Zoe said as he handed her the small pistol.

  “No kidding. I’m not going out there.”

  “I’ll let them know you helped me.”

  She eased the door open a crack and peered out. The passage was empty for the moment. The silence made her more nervous. Blood pumped in her ears, and she could taste the adrenaline in her dry mouth. Stepping out into the hall, she ran for the stairway leading to the bridge. The only sound was two helicopters. A chill crept over her skin. Was everyone dead?

  When she came out on deck, she saw ten crew members kneeling on the ground, hands on their heads, and two armed Coast Guard officers standing over them. On the bridge, the captain and his first officer had their hands secured behind their backs as two other Coast Guard officers talked to them. Was it over? Did they have everyone?

  “Ms. Summers? I don’t think you’ll need that anymore.” The voice was so familiar, she thought her heart would burst wide open. She spun around to see Jason standing next to two helicopter crewmen wearing headgear.

  “Jason,” she barely breathed his name as she ran into his arms.

  “I’ll take that, ma’am. Just to be safe.” One of the officers gently took the pistol out of her hand.

  Jason held her back, kissed her quick, and tears dampened his cheeks. “Thank God.” He squeezed her close and kissed her hair. “I thought I lost you.”

  “How did you get on board with all the armed men on deck?” she asked.

  Jason and the Coast Guard guys laughed. One of the guys tilted his head. “Take a look behind you. We didn’t need the help, but a little persuasion made the job easier.”

  Zoe looked over her shoulder and gasped. The Navy vessel, a huge warship, was so close she could see the men smiling and waving on deck. All the giant cannons were pointing directly at Cape Sienna. “Whoa.”

  “As soon as the Navy moved in and started moving those guns around, the crew put their weapons down. Even though the Navy had no intention of firing, the crew didn’t have to be told twice.”

  “The Navy was bored and welcomed an excuse to play with their guns,” the officer said.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Hey, there’s a guy in his cabin, a kid named Alex. He helped me. That’s his gun. He had no idea about my abduction.”

  The officer nodded. “We’re going to take you back, ma’am. You injured your arm?”

  Jason lifted her left arm. “What happened?” He also touched her cheek and grimaced. “I can imagine. What does the other guy look like?”

  “Pretty bad. He just lost his ship.”

  “Someone will take the ship into port where authorities will deal with it,” the Coast Guard officer said.

  Jason’s arm came around her shoulder, and she leaned against him as he walked her to the waiting helicopter. “I screwed up another mission, didn’t I?”

  He shushed her. “We know what Kadir did. We also found your hidden file. Good job.”

  Zoe breathed some relief. “His copy won’t be good after the third viewing.”

  “Virus? Good girl.” Jason smiled and pulled her closer.

  “But, Jason, he said he has Damien.” The sick feeling was back.

  “The authorities are working on that. And we know who the mole is. It’s Charlotte Ellison. She has been opposed to the FLC during her husband’s administration and was determined to shut it down.”

  “What are they going to do to her?” she asked.

  Jason shrugged. “They’ll watch her, closely now. She knows her life depends on keeping quiet.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Zoe glared at the nurse hanging another IV bag and adjusting the drip. She’d been in Georgetown University Hospital in Washington, DC, for three days and pretty much out of it between a fever and the medications they had her on. “Another one? When am I getting out of here?” Zoe complained.

  The middle-aged nurse gave her a calm smile. “You had a concussion, a fever and were dehydrated. The doctor wants to make sure you’re well before we send you home.” She raised an eyebrow at Jason. “She can have ice cream if you’d like to get her some from the cafeteria. The Rocky Road is excellent. No martinis.” She gave Jason a wink.

  “Funny.” Zoe wasn’t amused. Jason patted her arm.

  “Want me to bring you something from home? A book, your laptop, Sudoku puzzles?”

  She gave him the eye. “You’re lucky they have the IV in my swinging arm.” She groaned, then lowered her voice. “How did the meeting go with Julia? Are they going to use Kadir’s video? Have they heard anything new from him? What about Damien?”

  “Kadir has returned to Iran and refused further talks concerning the treaty. The FLC is considering an alternate plan.”

  “What kind of plan?”

  He looked at her without speaking for a moment. Some questions were meant not to be answered. “No word, good or bad, about Damien. Try not to worry,” he said.

  She fought back tears. “What could’ve happened?”

  “His team missed their checkout point, that’s all. Change of plans is what I was told. General Guzman said it happens.” He brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Are you ready for a vacation?”

  “Not until I find out about Damien. Why?”

  “You named the file Tahiti. When the AV guys edited it, they said it didn’t look anything like Tahiti.” He grinned.

  “Ha ha. When I emailed the file to my Gmail account, I couldn’t name it Sex Tape With Kadir. Gmail isn’t very secure, but I didn’t have much choice. Hide in plain sight.”

  Her phone started buzzing, and she reached her hand out. “It’s probably my dad again. I should never have taught him how to text. Can you pass it over? Promise me when we both get our casts off and Damien is okay, you’ll take me to Tahiti or the Caribbean, someplace with a warm beach.”

  “Sure.” He handed her the phone.

  She checked her phone. A play had been made on Words With Friends. The air caught in her throat. “Jason. It’s Damien.” She burst into tears. “He’s okay. And he’s still beating me.” Frantically, she started texting him a message with her good hand.

  “Still beating you? There’s no way you’ll catch me in this game,” Damien said from the door to her room. He was grinning and wearing his desert camouflage gear.

  Zoe squealed. “Damien!” She tried getting up, but he raced over and hugged her.

  “Don’t get up, sis.” He stood back and looked at her. “You look like hell,” he teased, but was serious, too. “Hi, Jason. How is she?”

  “Much better. Broken arm, bump on the head.”

  “I heard some of the details. Kadir is one SOB. You’ll be hearing on the news about some women we rescued who had been Kadir’s slaves. That was our planned mission, an NEO, Noncombatant Evacuation Operation, of the women slaves. DOS and DOD received orders to deploy security forces and secure the evacuation. They hadn’t realized there were so many. That’s why it took so long.”

  “Who were these women?” Zoe asked.

  “They were from various countries. A number of Americans, Canadians and British women thought they were being hired for consulting work and ended up as his private slaves.”

  “How many? And how did you get them out?” Zoe grasped Jason’s hand.

  “About seventy. All but fifteen agreed to leave. The World Health Organization and a few missionary services assisted in transporting and caring for the women. Every step of this mission was secret until we were sure the women were safe. We didn’t want word to get back to Kadir’s people.”

  “How is Kadir responding to this?” Jason asked.

  Damien rolled his eyes
. “He’s insisting these women were contracted employees and consultants and were allowed to leave when their contracts were over. He plans to make another public statement about his trip to the US. He’s not signing the peace treaty. From what I hear, his people are not happy with him.” Would Kadir reveal the existence of the FLC to the world?

  Zoe gave Jason a worried look. “But Kadir knew about Damien playing Words With Friends. I thought he’d captured you.”

  “Lost my phone or it was pickpocketed during the slave rescue, before you were abducted,” Damien explained. “I’m sure it was picked apart. Fortunately, I don’t keep anything that could be considered a security risk on it.”

  ***

  The American passenger strolled onto the commercial airline and took his seat in first class. He checked CNN news from his iPhone. The pretty young flight attendant approached his seat. She wore a hijab covering on her head that matched her uniform, highlighting dark, intense eyes and smooth, flawless skin. All the female flight attendants wore the same clothing on Iran Air. He wondered how she’d take the news. It hadn’t hit CNN or local news, but he expected it would.

  “May I get you a drink, sir? Coffee, tea? We should be taking off shortly,” she said in English. Her passenger list probably told her who the Americans were. Not too many traveled to Iran since the new president had taken over.

  He glanced out the window at the airport employees who were driving the luggage carts to be loaded. Several armed Iranian guards stood at various locations with rifles. “Coffee, black, thank you.” He would have liked to have something stronger, but Iran Air didn’t serve alcohol on its flights. Besides, he was still working until the plane was off the ground and he was out of Iran. Tehran was a nice city, based on what little he’d seen of it. Its people were kind, gracious and welcoming to an American posing as a computer software businessman.

  A day ago, he had been at Sa’dabad Palace in Tehran, the president’s residence and office, being introduced as the leader’s temporary translator. Kadir’s current translator was in the hospital with severe injuries after an awful car crash, and luckily, the assassin knew six languages. His connections had helped him to step in to get the job done. Too bad there hadn’t been another way, but there was no quick and easy foreign policy fix. Serious reform took time, and overthrowing the regime through US intervention would have been a disaster. However, secretly creating a favorable environment to allow a more promising regime to step in could work. That’s where he’d come in. A handshake, a tiny pinprick with a slow-acting drug that mimicked a heart attack and the job was done.

  “Of course.” She smiled and asked the next passenger the same before going to the galley. A moment later he had a cup of coffee on his tray. “Here you go, sir. Let me know if I can get you anything else.” She also dropped off bags of cashews.

  “Thank you.” Outside his window, the sun was setting. The modern city of Tehran with its backdrop of snowcapped mountains was miles away. Two more armed police came out of the terminal and approached the baggage guys. His pulse kicked up a few beats, and he focused on his breathing to calm himself. He opened the bag of nuts and munched a few.

  The flight wasn’t full. It wouldn’t be the first time the airline canceled a flight because of too few passengers. Not good. His flight would take him to Amsterdam, a six-hour flight, and then to London. If it ever got off the ground. He checked his watch.

  “We should be leaving soon,” the flight attendant said. “There’s a little delay, but it shouldn’t be long.”

  He smiled and thanked her.

  The flight attendants huddled around the kitchen looking over their phones and chatting anxiously. Was it his imagination, or did they seem pleased by the news? They were smiling, laughing, and hugging, so it did not look like they were disturbed by it.

  “He’s dead, he’s dead,” he heard one of them say in Farsi. He checked his phone, scanning Twitter, CNN and local news. Finally, a couple of Twitter posts and retweets. Iranian President Kadir was dead. Heart attack? CNN still hadn’t announced it. Nothing on the local news, either. He sipped his coffee.

  The flight attendants made announcements to fasten seat belts and turn off all electronic devices and prepare for takeoff. He checked CNN one more time, and there it was.

  Iranian President Majeed Kadir has been pronounced dead of a heart attack. Reports indicate dozens of female hostages, many American, held by Kadir as his personal slaves were recently rescued.

  There was no mention about the hostages or slaves on Tehran news. He turned off his phone and leaned back in his seat. The plane pulled away from the gate and started to taxi down the runway.

  Moments later, the plane was in the air. The assassin scrolled through the selection of movies while he waited for his dinner.

  Killing was the easy part when the target was evil.

  EPILOGUE

  “I think we might get some rain,” Jason said, opening one eye and looking up at the sky.

  Zoe took off her sunglasses and glanced over at him. With the approaching gray clouds, a few people lounging around the resort’s pool began gathering their towels and belongings and leaving. “Don’t care. It’s too beautiful out here.” The smells of the ocean and something barbecuing at the nearby tiki bar mingled with the warm breeze removed every last bit of tension from her body.

  Waiting until both their casts were off had been well worth it. Who wanted to go to Tahiti with a cast and not be able to swim in the beautiful aqua water? Stretched out on a lounger by the pool, Zoe held her wrists side by side to compare.

  “How are you doing?” Jason asked, one eye open. He looked so hot, naked except for his bathing suit. All bronze muscles with a sheen of suntan lotion on his skin. Only two days at the resort, and he was so tanned he looked like a lifeguard. She was trying in earnest to tan with her fair skin and mega sunblock, trying to avoid a burn.

  “It doesn’t hurt. But I do have a funny bump on the one that was broken.”

  “No, I mean, how are you doing? You’ve been through a lot.” He sat up and took her hand. The butterflies in her stomach did a rumba.

  “I’m good. Happy. Very happy.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.”

  He nodded and looked past her, a line of worry creasing his brow. “I noticed you didn’t bring any scarves on this trip.”

  “I don’t need them.”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. “What are we going to do when we get back? Leave the FLC? Go back to Langley? We can go anywhere, do anything we want. Do something less dangerous, more routine?” As he said it, she could tell he was saying this for her because of her ordeal.

  “We would never be happy doing a routine job. We crave the adventure and danger. As long as we can take Dexter with us.”

  He grinned. “That’s a given.”

  She knew they were ready to go home after two weeks on the island. “I’d like to continue with the FLC,” Zoe said. “Their methods are unconventional, but bad things happen in the world when evil goes unchecked. Hitler, Osama bin Laden are a couple of examples. I’m going to ask Julia about deciphering the archives in my office. Many people have been a part of the FLC and influenced historical events. This knowledge should be translated and recorded, even if it’s never made public.”

  “What do you think you can decipher?” he asked.

  “Those who have been responsible for shaping the history of this country and possibly the world and are not in recorded history.”

  “Then we stay,” he said. He didn’t say anything about taking their relationship to the next level, but that was okay. They had time now. They’d been through a lot. Would she ever get tired of looking at him?

  He checked his phone. “Interesting. Iran elected a new president, and there’s celebrating in the streets. Sounds like this guy plans to sign the treaty.”

  “I hope so,” Zoe said, grabbing the sunscreen and smoothing the lotion on her legs, arms and chest.
“Good for the Iranian people. They’ve been through enough.”

  “It must be a good sign. Iran Air opened flights to London, Paris, New York, Chicago and Seattle.”

  “Really? Those airports have blocked them since Kadir took over. That is a good sign.” She slipped the straps of her top off her shoulders and rubbed more lotion into her skin.

  “You’re getting me hot watching you.” He bent over and gave her a slow and sexy kiss. “Later I’ll rub lotion on you everywhere.”

  “Mmmm, nice. I brought a few items in my suitcase. I need more training for the Red Tape Room.”

  “What kind of objects?” He grinned.

  “Flogger, restraining straps, vibrators, among other things.”

  He shook his head. “Didn’t Customs go through your luggage?”

  She nodded. “I asked the TSA agent if he needed a demo of any of those items. He blushed and stuffed them back in.”

  Jason laughed. “I’m getting hard. I need a drink.”

  “Good.” She looked up at the sky. “I felt a drop, but the sun is still out. Catch a little more sun, then go in?”

  He grinned. “I’m swimming over to the pool bar. Want anything?”

  “Yes, a blue drink.”

  He laughed. “What’s in a blue drink?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It looks refreshing. Ask for an umbrella and extra pineapple, too.”

  She watched him swim to the bar, order the drinks and walk slowly back through the water. As raindrops fell, the wind picked up, and more guests scooped up towels and ran to their rooms or down to the beach to get under the covered tiki bar. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the warm rain. “Here’s your drink. I asked for extra blue stuff and extra fruit,” Jason said. “Going inside?”

  “No. It’s only rain.” She opened her eyes, took the drink and sipped on the straw. “Yum. Thanks. And look, we have the pool to ourselves now.”

  Palm trees swayed, and ocean waves crashed onto the shore. She could have stayed here another two weeks. She closed her eyes. The image of her container prison on the freighter came to mind. She shoved it aside and replaced the thought with their gorgeous spa room overlooking the ocean. A big, Jacuzzi tub would be getting a workout later, as well as the bed.