Seduced by a SEAL

by Makenna Jameison

  “Hell of a change from the desert air,” Noah said as he came up beside him, sliding on his aviators.

  Colton glanced off in the distance, to the members of the Colombian military at the other end of the runway. “Yeah. I hate to say it, but I like the break from all that damn heat. Doesn’t mean I like the reason we were sent down here though.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked around. Imprints from combat boots were left in the dusty ground, and their plane had left tire tracks where it had come to a stop at the end of the runway. Other vehicles’ tire tracks circled the area, no doubt from the DEA agents and Colombian military.

  Uncle Sam had the DEA coming and going for months in an attempt to track down the notorious drug lord. Amazing that in a way, the kidnapping of his daughter had helped to flush him out. Storming his compound could’ve been an option requiring a hell of a lot more firepower. Grabbing him when he was with a small group of his own men would make it practically too damn easy.

  And now that he was out in the open?

  Their perfect chance had come at the cost of Camila’s kidnapping.

  The sound of boots on metal from another SEAL team member walking down the C-17 ramp had Colton glancing back behind him. Hunter dropped his gear on the ground, holding only his weapon, and scanned the distance. “There’s a hell of a lot of places to hide in the mountains. The latest word was that Miguel was still in the city though. We’ll set up base here with extra supplies. Go over the specs again. We roll into the city at nightfall unless we receive new information. Grab him from the location he was last spotted at and bring him back to the States.”

  “Understood,” Colton said, clenching his jaw. His hand fisted at his side, and he gripped his assault rifle more tightly.

  Situations were always rapidly changing. New developments unfolding. They could easily hunt down Miguel and leave without ever spotting one of the missing women.

  Without Camila.

  Ryker spat on the ground as he strode over, coming to a stop beside them. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, and he adjusted his headset and nodded toward some recently disturbed earth less than fifty yards from them.

  “What the hell is that?” Colton asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Hidden drugs? Money? A recently-dug grave? Don’t know. It could be anything.”

  Colton’s blood ran cold. He took a step toward it, his gaze instinctively sweeping the area. “It doesn’t look like explosives. It would be hard to sneak in and plant them anyway with so many eyes in the area.”

  “Well something sure as shit has been there,” Ryker comment dryly.

  Hunter moved up beside Colton, taking command. “Colton and I will check out the disturbance,” he said into his headset. “Ryker and Noah, wait here until the other members of team disembark the plane. The Colombians will be rolling up in a few minutes.”

  Ryker’s gaze slid to the waiting plane. “Roger that,” he said, casually looking around.

  A military vehicle starting driving toward them from the other end of the airstrip.

  “We’re gathering up some additional gear,” Jacob said over the comm channel. “About to unload the Humvees from the plane. You guys see something out there?”

  “It looks like something’s buried in the ground nearby,” Hunter said. “Someone. Hell, it could be nothing. We’ll find out in fifty yards.”

  “Roger that,” Jacob said coolly. Metal clanked in the background, and Colton heard an engine start.

  He looked into the distance, knowing the rest of their men had him covered from behind. That the military at the far end of the runway would most likely ward off potential attacks. There was nothing else around but an open field of dirt in the area between the city and mountains. There weren’t many places for someone to hide. That didn’t mean someone couldn’t launch an RPG their way though. Or plant an IED in the ground.

  The cartels weren’t likely to bring the war to them, not on an airstrip guarded by the Colombian military. They had their own turf wars against each other—their own caco fields to guard. Their own cocaine shipments to protect.

  Colton’s eyes trailed over the brown dirt. Aside from tire tracks and boot imprints, both lessening the further away they walked, nothing around here appeared to be recently disturbed.

  “See anything suspicious?” Hunter asked, his eyes sweeping the area.

  “Negative. Let’s keep alert as we move forward. The cartels are known to have IEDs. Seems unlikely they’d come here though.”

  “Affirmative. The cartels won’t come out here looking for a fight. Doesn’t mean some lone wolf won’t see us and decide to shoot.”

  “Game on,” Colton muttered.

  Static crackled over his headset, and their CO’s voice from Little Creek filled his ear. “Delta team—we’ve received new intelligence while you were midflight. Miguel Rodriguez was spotted in a convoy of vehicles heading west of the city at 1700 local time. Coordinates are on the way.”

  “Roger that,” Hunter said quietly into his headset. “We’re investigating what looks to be a buried body at the edge of the airfield, and then we’ll be on the move. The Colombians can investigate further and deal with it. We’re just making sure someone wasn’t buried alive out here.”

  “Roger. Over and out,” their CO said.

  Colton and Hunter approached the mound of dirt slowly, cautiously edging closer. Colton paused, looking at the ground. Dirt covered his combat boots. All the tire tracks left on the ground meant that it hadn’t rained recently. Which meant it would’ve been harder to dig a grave.

  Someone could’ve dumped a body and then just piled dirt atop it, not even bothering to make sure they were six feet underground.

  “It hasn’t rained recently,” Colton said. “Maybe that’s why whatever they buried isn’t very deep? A freshly-dug mound of dirt sure as hell doesn’t conceal the location at all though.”

  “You think there are explosives buried around here?” Hunter asked.

  Colton paused, glancing around. There were no tell-tale signs of a tripwire, but IEDs were generally well hidden because they were so small. “I doubt anyone would bury a large explosive device way out here,” he said, nodding in the direction of the mound. “If they wanted to target a plane, it would need to be on the runway. And with the military standing guard, it’d be difficult to get close enough for that.”

  “Agreed. Maybe they dumped a body. It’s not exactly a great location to hide cash or drugs.”

  The walked closer to the pile of fresh dirt, and Colton’s heart dropped as he saw a woman’s shoe abandoned on the ground. A sprinkling of dirt covered the pink sandal, and the delicate strap was broken.

  “Shit,” Hunter muttered beside him. “Definite corpse. Looks like it was recently buried.”

  Unable to stop himself, Colton stepped closer. He ground his jaw as he saw strands of blonde hair and realized that his heart had been thumping wildly. That he’d inadvertently been holding his breath.

  It wasn’t Camila.

  But another young woman had lost her life. Probably kidnapped by the cartels and then tossed aside. Accidentally killed, perhaps. Maybe left to send a message.

  And now she was abandoned in the dirt.

  “Strange to leave a body way out here,” Hunter mused, glancing around. “If they wanted the military to find it, past the end of the runway doesn’t seem like a great choice.”

  “DEA has been flying planes in and out of this area for months,” Colton said. “It does seem risky to come all the way out here just to dump a body. Not when the U.S. has boots on the ground. Maybe this was as close as they could get and hope that the U.S. or Colombian military would find it.”

  “All right boys, enough talk about the damn body,” Ryker said over the headsets. “The sat imagery we just received shows exactly where Miguel’s convoy stopped. No telling how long it’ll be before they move out again. I’m pulling up the specs, and we can be on our merry way.”

  “Hell.” Hunte
r glanced again at the pile of dirt covering the woman before looking back toward their C-17 and teammates. The rest of the team was gathered around the Humvees, packing up the rest of the gear. Nothing like landing with their own vehicles ready to roll.

  “She’ll still be here when we get back,” Colton said.

  Hunter nodded, turning and walking toward the rest of the team.

  “What’d you find?” their CO asked over the headsets. “Anything to be concerned about?”

  “A woman’s body. Tell the Colombians to investigate further after we move out. Colton and I are headed back to Delta.”

  Colton followed behind, uneasiness settling over him. Something didn’t sit right about a body being dumped here, in an area the U.S. Government was known to frequent.

  Someone was sending them a message.

  But what?

  Chapter 10

  CAMILA GASPED AS ROUGH hands lifted her up, rousing her from a groggy sleep. She stumbled as a man pushed her forward, bodily dragging her from the room. Her weakened state was no match for his bulk and muscle, and she could do little but let him take her.

  Thick fingers gripped her biceps as he moved her toward the door, sending pain shooting down her arms. The woman who’d been wailing on her own mat earlier whimpered, but no one said a word. She frantically scanned the room, as if the small cell of women could somehow save her from her captor.

  She briefly met the frightened eyes of Mariana but knew there was nothing the woman could do to help her either. If anything, it was better they were taking Camila. At least she had a chance of eventually escaping—of being rescued. Presumably, they’d contact her father for money. And if they did intend to sell her into the sex trade like those other women, word would spread quickly that the daughter of Miguel Rodriguez was up for sale.

  She shuddered, looking ahead.

  Pretending she wasn’t leaving the other women in the room behind for a miserable life as the property of a man willing to pay.

  Camila blinked as she nearly fell into the narrow hallway, dimly lit by a few lights. It was made of the same concrete cinderblocks as the cell she’d been hidden in. Dark. Narrow. Unwelcoming.

  And perfect for hiding whatever goods they were trafficking.

  Whatever they’d drugged her with had mostly worn off, but she was weak from no food or water, and she swayed on her feet. She shivered in her dress and sandals, uneasiness washing over her.

  How many more hours had passed since she’d been taken?

  Were they dragging her off to rape or kill her?

  Her stomach lurched, and she dry heaved, glancing down at the boots of the man holding her. He smelled of cigarettes and stale sweat, and he pulled her along, not caring if she was about to be sick.

  “We have to move her,” another man yelled impatiently. Camila glanced up to see the shadow of another man at the end of the hallway. “If he discovers she’s being held here, he’ll slit our throats.”

  “What? Where are we going?” she asked the man holding her, finally getting up the nerve to speak.

  He grunted, shoving her forward, and she nearly fell to the ground. Rough hands yanked her back into a standing position, and then he was hurrying her along. Camila’s eyes widened as she saw pounds and pounds of cocaine being stacked into piles as they passed an open storage room. There had to be millions and millions of dollars’ worth of drugs in that one tiny little space.

  The men working ignored her, too caught up in their assignment to care.

  Or maybe they were just used to seeing women taken in and out of the cell where she’d been held.

  Were they clearing out their stash of cocaine? Was this part of her father’s operations? Or something run by another cartel?

  She hadn’t seen her own bodyguards since they’d been outside the café—right after they’d turned on her. Crazy how two men who’d protected her for years suddenly were willing to sell her out. Was this a building owned by her father? Or had they given her to a rival cartel?

  A rickety door at the end of the hallway revealed a set of concrete stairs, and before she could ask any more questions or refuse to go up, the man holding her heaved her up over his shoulder.

  She screamed as his arm snaked around her waist, holding her to him, and his other hand palmed her ass as he chuckled. He squeezed her buttocks lightly, and she screamed again, kicking her legs.

  “Quiet!” the man holding her shouted. He smacked her ass once, shocking her, and she let out a sob as he began hissing at her to shut up.

  “Want me to take care of her?” the man who’d been waiting at the end of the hallway asked. “Twenty minutes alone with me will shut her the fuck up. I’ll stuff my cock so deep in her mouth, she’ll be gagging too much to even think about screaming.”

  “We need her alive,” the guy holding her snapped.

  A dark chuckle had her cringing. “I was going fuck her, not kill her.”

  “Later.”

  Her head bounced up and down against her captor’s back as he carried her up the stairs, and she began to feel sickeningly dizzy. Soon she felt the cool night air kissing the backs of her legs. Chilling her exposed skin. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that hours had passed since she’d first woken.

  Was it really only one day ago that she’d been kidnapped from the café?

  She’d been shopping and having coffee with her best friend—not a single care in the world. It was amazing how in such a short time her world had been turned upside down—both literally and figuratively.

  The guy holding her over his shoulder unceremoniously lifted her off and dumped her onto the ground. She scurried back as the man who’d been hidden in shadows walked over to them. Tattoos covered both of his muscular arms, and he had several days growth of a dark beard. The outline of a packet of cigarettes showed in his shirt pocket, but in the cool night air, he didn’t reek of the scent of stale smoke like the first man had.

  Dark eyes flickered over her with interest, lingering on her breasts. Chilling her to the core. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her thin dress, pebbling from the cold, and she could practically see his mouth watering.

  “It’s a damn shame I couldn’t take you for a test ride,” he said with a smirk, reaching out and lightly caressing one of her breasts as she pulled away. “Maybe they’ll let me try you out later. After your buyer gets his fill of you.”

  She let out a choked cry and trembled as a dark van pulled up the driveway. Three men in dark clothes climbed out, storming over to her and the tattooed man. Each of them were carrying weapons, and one glanced back over his shoulder at the idling vehicle, a driver still waiting inside. “Miguel’s on the move,” one of them said. “Rumor has it he’s on his way here.”

  Camila’s ears perked up. Her father was coming to rescue her? She stood perfectly still, hoping they didn’t realize she was listening to the conversation.

  “How could he know where she is?” the tattooed man snapped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, lighting one. The soft glow of the embers lit up in the darkness, and she tried not to retch at the smell. At the nausea she was feeling after not eating for more than twenty-four hours. “He’s got property all over Colombia. What the hell would let him know we’ve taken over this compound?”

  “He killed one of her bodyguards. The fools came back demanding a bigger ransom for his daughter after they kidnapped her. The second one was willing to talk after the first lost his life.”

  “Fuck. Where is he now?”

  “The bodyguard? Both are dead.”

  Camila took a step back, her eyes widening. The tattooed man reached out and yanked her back toward him, the ashes from his cigarette falling onto her bare skin. “I’ll be coming for you later, beautiful.” She winced as his fingers gripped her wrist tightly, binding her to him.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  She tried to wrench her wrist free from his grip, and he chuckled. “Just an old riv
al of your father’s. Remember that massive fire a year ago? Your father torched our caco crops—it cost me millions. But I’m about to get my revenge.”

  Camila stared up at him, a feeling of dread washing over her. Was he planning to kill her father? Her? Attempt to take over the entire cartel?

  If her bodyguards had already been killed, how much chance did this man have? Her father already knew what was happening.

  “And what do you need me for?” she asked, raising her chin defiantly.

  He chuckled. “We’re in the same business as your father—moving drugs and women. I’m having a special auction just for you though. Usually men don’t care what whore they end up with when we sell them. A warm cunt is all they need,” he sneered as she shivered.

  “I’ve taken a woman or two myself over the years. Reaped the benefits of this business. But you?” he asked, slowly circling around her. Examining every inch of her in the darkness.

  She shivered, despite her efforts to remain still. To not quake in front of the group of men before her. “The daughter of the infamous Miguel Rodriguez? Your father cost me millions, but I’m about to make it all back. There are lots of men willing to fuck the likes of you. They’ll pay big money for the chance. Hell, maybe I’ll sell you for a night at a time.”

  “No,” she said, taking a step back. “I won’t do it.”

  “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you,” he snarled. “Hell. I’ll fuck you right here myself in front of all these other men—then let them each have a turn.”

  He nodded at the men from the van, and two of them began walking toward her.

  “No!” she shouted, turning to run. Stumbling in the dark as she blindly took off. After only a few steps they were grabbing her by the arms. Lifting her into the air. She screamed again, twisting and writhing as she tried to break free.

  “Knock her out,” a dark voice commanded.

  She cried out again as something hard hit the top of her head, and then she succumbed to the darkness.