Securing Caite

by Susan Stoker

  It was eleven-thirty at night and it still felt as if it was at least ninety-five degrees outside. Caite was sweating like she’d run a marathon. The hijab was itchy and the abaya kept wrapping around her legs and trying to trip her. She wasn’t used to walking with all the extra material.

  Caite concentrated on the temperature rather than how scared she was. There was a reason the US authorities had said this part of the city was off limits. She’d already seen things she’d thought only happened in movies. Prostitutes on every corner, men doing drugs right on the street, a huge fight outside of a bar, and even what she thought was a woman being violated in a dark alley.

  The cab driver had refused to take her any farther than the outskirts of the neighborhood she needed to be in. He’d taken pity on her and had given her directions to get to the general area where the store was located, but even when she’d offered the guy a hundred bucks, he’d still refused to drive her there.

  And that’s how she’d ended up walking the last mile to the store. Caite kept looking behind her to see if she was being followed, even though she really couldn’t see a damn thing. She was extremely paranoid. And she was definitely pushing her luck. She’d been fortunate so far, but she knew her luck would end sooner or later.

  She’d gone over in her mind time and time again what she’d heard the brothers saying at the conference. Someone had to have seen Rocco, Ace, and Gumby go into the store, and had contacted the Bitoos. How else would they have known to go to their father’s store and ambush Rocco and the others? And if someone saw the Navy SEALs, who were probably really good at not being seen, surely they’d see her. Women weren’t supposed to be out by themselves. They should always be accompanied by a male. She’d been lectured to about that very thing by both taxi drivers.

  It didn’t matter that she was pretending to be a local. In fact, it was probably worse being alone looking the way she did than if she’d flaunted the fact that she was a foreigner. It was too late now to change what she’d done.

  Holding her breath, she hurried down the sidewalk, ignoring the sweat that dripped down her back. She had on a black tank top and leggings under the abaya, and it felt as if she were wearing a wool coat in the middle of summer. She knew if she stripped off the tank, she could probably literally wring it out, it was so soaked with sweat. She wanted nothing more than to strip off all her clothes and sit in front of a fan turned on high.

  So focused on how hot she was, Caite almost didn’t realize that she’d made it to her destination. There were several single-story buildings standing side by side. There was about two feet between each, just enough to slip through and get to the back side…or for someone to hide and ambush her.

  Shivering at the thought, Caite looked around, trying to find the correct building.

  There. Tucked between what looked like a barbershop and some sort of tobacco store was a faded, broken sign that said “Bitoo’s Grocery.” There was a metal shutter pulled down over the front and a large padlock holding it secure. The building was just as rundown as the others around it, and looked like it would blow over with the next dust storm.

  Since she couldn’t get in through the front, and because she wanted to get off the street, Caite took a deep breath and plunged into the dark, narrow alley next to the store. It smelled like piss and rotting food, but she didn’t stop to examine what she was stepping on. She just hoped she didn’t trip over someone sleeping between the buildings.

  Sighing in relief when she reached the backside, she wasn’t surprised to see no streetlights illuminating the area. If possible, it was creepier than the front, but at the moment, the darkness was her friend. The last thing she wanted was someone seeing her and coming over to harass her…or have her arrested.

  There was a wooden door in the back that looked promising. She turned the knob and pushed, and was disappointed when it didn’t budge. Knowing the locked door wouldn’t be a possibility but vowing that she hadn’t come this far to fail now, she studied the single small window. She could break it and get inside, but breaking the glass would make a lot of noise, and she couldn’t risk drawing attention to herself.

  Caite went over to the small window and, just on a lark, pushed on it.

  It opened inward so fast, Caite stumbled forward and almost bashed her head against the windowsill.

  She blinked in surprise at the now open window. It was about shoulder height and wouldn’t be easy for her to get through, but buoyed by how easy it was to find a way inside, Caite dragged a foul-smelling box closer to the window. She had no idea what was inside, but the stench was horrible. Holding her breath, she cautiously stepped on the closed box and prayed her foot wouldn’t break through and touch whatever smelled so awful.

  Moving quickly, she braced her hands on the windowsill and jumped. Her belly landed on the wood, which dug into her stomach, but she ignored the slight sting and wiggled until her upper body was inside the store.

  It was dark inside and smelled of incense. The quiet was unnerving, but Caite didn’t let it stop her. Not knowing how else to get inside, she simply pushed herself the rest of the way, landing on her hands and knees on the cold, hard floor. The sound her body made as it landed was loud in the silent room, and she held her breath for a long few seconds, trying to determine if someone outside had possibly heard her.

  After a moment, hearing no one shouting in protest, she got to her feet and turned around to shut the window. The box underneath the window was enough of a red flag that someone had gotten inside that way; she didn’t want to leave the window open as well.

  At the last second before leaving her apartment, she’d grabbed a small flashlight as an afterthought. She fished it out of the waistband of her leggings now and clicked it on.

  Looking around the store, she was struck by how little food there was. There weren’t any fresh vegetables on the shelves and only a few random cans of meat and soup. There were a few bags of chips and some bottles of water on a shelf, but that was about it in the food department. There were a ton of other items for sale, however. Most of which looked like junk to Caite. It was like a large garage sale back home. What looked like used pots and pans and other kitchen supplies sat on shelves alongside a rack filled with clothes that had seen better days.

  Caite quickly lost interest in what Mr. Bitoo was selling in his shop. She was there for a reason. Tiptoeing across the floor—which was silly because it wasn’t like there was anyone around to see her—Caite saw a large table sitting in the middle of the space. It had one wide central leg that flared slightly to four supports at the bottom, and it looked like it was made out of concrete or stone.

  On top of the table were wooden carvings and some batiks. She knew from seeing the vendors who set up outside the base that they were probably the African crafts one of the Bitoo brothers had talked about.

  She got down on her knees in front of the table and ran her hands along the floor. Feeling what she knew had to be a handle, she shone her flashlight on it. Yup. A small ring was almost hidden in the scuffed and dirty floor of the shop.

  Relief hit Caite so hard, she almost passed out. She’d done it! She’d found Rocco, Ace, and Gumby.

  She wanted to call out to them. To tell them she was there and that she’d open the hatch so they could get out, but she kept quiet. She had no idea how thin or thick the walls were, and the last thing she wanted was someone walking by to hear her yelling.

  She stood so fast, she hit her head on the underside of the table. She groaned and put her hand on the back of her head and closed her eyes for a second, trying to keep down the yelp of pain that threatened to escape.

  When the pain receded to a reasonable level, she slowly backed out from under the table and tried to push it off the trapdoor in the floor.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  Swearing, she tried again, grunting with the effort to slide the table the two feet or so backward off the hatch. Because all the weight was on one central support, it was way too heavy for her, dam
n it.

  Hoping that moving some of the wooden carvings off the table would lighten it enough, she began to move some of the odds and ends that were on top to the nearby counter.

  After five minutes or so, she tried to push the table off the hatch again.

  “Dang it!” she swore when the stone table was still too heavy for her to move. But there was no way she’d come this far, only to fail. No way in hell.

  Shining her flashlight around the room, she searched for something, anything she could use to move the table.

  She almost missed it.

  There. Behind three huge pots. A coil of rope. It was brand new and still in plastic.

  Caite stumbled over and snatched it up. She quickly opened it, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Poor Mr. Bitoo had no idea what his sons were doing. He was back home in Gabon at the moment, at least according to the brothers.

  She reached into the pocket of her abaya—one of the very reasons she’d chosen this style over some of the more ornate ones the vendor had on display; she didn’t like to wear anything that didn’t have pockets—and pulled out a five-dollar bill. She’d made sure to bring plenty of cash so she could pay the taxis. She placed the bill on the shelf where she’d gotten the rope.

  Feeling better now that she wasn’t stealing, Caite hurried to unwind the rope. She tied one end to the center support of the table and wrapped the other around a huge wooden spool that was sitting nearby, displaying various odds and ends.

  Using the rope as a type of pulley, she tugged with all her might.

  At first, she didn’t think it would work—but slowly, ever so slowly, the table began to move. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, straining with all her weight against the rope.

  Finally, finally, the table moved enough so that it wasn’t on top of where she thought the hatch was located.

  Feeling proud of herself and accomplished, she made her way back toward the hatch.

  Distracted by the sweat under her arms, soaking her tank top and dripping down the back of her neck under the hot hijab, Caite wasn’t prepared for the hatch to fly open.

  The sound it made as it crashed against the floor was shocking.

  But it was the man who came flying out of the hatch toward her face that was the bigger issue.

  Screeching in surprise, Caite took a step back and tripped over the flowing material of her abaya. She fell backward at the same time the man grabbed her around the neck, and they both fell to the floor with a crash.

  “You hear that?” Gumby whispered.

  “Yeah,” Ace said.

  At the same time, Rocco said, “Hell yeah.”

  “They’re back,” Gumby said unnecessarily.

  The three men tracked the movement above their heads by the sounds of the footsteps.

  “It only sounds like one person,” Ace said. “Could one of them have been stupid enough to come back by himself?”

  “Maybe he wants the tablets and he’s going to double-cross his brothers,” Rocco suggested.

  “We might just get out of this in one piece after all,” Ace said, the eagerness easy to hear in his voice.

  “Don’t get cocky,” Rocco warned. “There still could be more of them.”

  They heard grunting above them, and the rustle of things being moved around.

  “What’s he doing?” Ace whispered.

  “No clue. You ready?” Rocco asked.

  Ace nodded, and Rocco slowly and silently stepped up onto the stepladder they’d placed under the hatch. He looked up and made sure he was positioned right under the hatch. If he screwed up when he threw Ace, he could seriously hurt his friend.

  More scraping noises sounded above their heads, and they knew it was getting close to time. Whoever was up there was moving the table off the hatch. Once it was removed, Ace would have only the slightest window to take him by surprise and disarm him. Their goal wasn’t to kill anyone, but they wouldn’t hesitate to do so if needed.

  Ace climbed up behind Rocco and confidentially stepped onto his shoulders. “Okay?” Ace asked.

  “Good,” Rocco returned. He felt Gumby’s hand on his back, steadying him. The second Ace was thrust upward, Gumby would take his place and Rocco would get him up and out of the cellar as well. Then it was his job to step aside and wait for one of them to throw down a rope so he could climb up and join the fight.

  Ace lifted one foot, and Rocco bent his arm and put his hand under Ace’s boot. Then he did the same with the other. He slowly bent his knees, ready to put as much energy as possible into throwing Ace up and out.

  “Almost…” Ace said. Rocco’s gaze was fixed on the step of the ladder in front of him. He trusted Ace to know when the timing was right.

  “Ready?” Ace asked quietly.

  “Ready,” Rocco confirmed.

  “On three. One. Two. Three.”

  The second the word left his mouth, Rocco grunted and lurched upward as hard as he could. He straightened his arms and felt Ace push off with his own jump. The hatch burst open with a huge crash.

  Rocco didn’t even look up. He squatted back down immediately and put his hands near his shoulders to get ready for Gumby. He knew his buddy’s ankle hurt, but they’d wrapped it as best they could with what they’d found in the cellar. He also knew Gumby wouldn’t let out one complaint. He’d do his job as well as he was able.

  “Ready,” Gumby said confidently.

  “On three,” Rocco said. “One. Two. Three!”

  Then he once again sprang upward. It was a bit more awkward this time, as Gumby was taller and heavier, and Rocco didn’t have the luxury of someone bracing him from behind as Gumby had done when he’d lifted Ace. But the other man made it up and out of the cellar with no issues.

  Rocco quickly moved the stepladder out of the way and looked up. Waiting.

  It took several moments—and Rocco didn’t hear any scuffling. The only thing he’d heard was a thud after Ace had burst out of the hatch, then a slight surprised screech…then nothing.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Gumby’s face appeared at the edge of the hatch. He slowly lowered a rope ladder over the edge. “Don’t forget the tablets,” Gumby said.

  “Everything okay?” Rocco asked.

  “Tablets, Rocco,” Gumby repeated, not answering.

  “Fuck,” Rocco muttered, and turned and grabbed the box of priceless artifacts. His wrist was throbbing but he ignored it, holding the box under one arm and using the other hand to climb up the swaying ladder as if it was child’s play.

  The sight that greeted him when he reached the top stopped him in his tracks.

  Gumby put a hand on his arm and said, “She’s okay, man. Don’t panic.”

  “What the absolute fuck?” Rocco asked.

  A woman lay on the floor. Ace was kneeling next to her with a hand on her shoulder. She blinked and looked up at him.

  “Hi, Rocco.”

  “Caite?” Rocco asked, not understanding what the hell was going on. He couldn’t get his brain to process the fact that the person on the floor wasn’t one of the Bitoo brothers, but instead a woman. A woman dressed in a traditional abaya and wearing a hijab.

  Caite.

  That it was Caite.

  She slowly started to sit up, and groaned.

  Within seconds, Rocco had put the box of tablets on the floor as if they weren’t worth millions of dollars and rushed to her side. He put his arm around her back and helped ease her to a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Are you?”

  Rocco was never speechless. He always had something to say. But he couldn’t for the life of him think of one thing to say at the moment. Seeing Caite there, dressed as she was, wasn’t something he could ever prepare for. He was having a hard time thinking at all.

  “We need to get out of here,” Ace said softly. “We made enough noise to bring the entire neighborhood running, especially since the store is supposed to be empty.”

  Rocco knew his friend was right, but he
couldn’t move. “Caite? What in the hell are you doing here? How did you find us? What are you wearing?”

  She winced. “It’s a long story. A very long story.”

  “One that we don’t have time for,” Gumby warned. “We need to disappear.”

  “Dammit,” Rocco swore, but he got to his feet. He easily hauled Caite up as well and looked her up and down. “You’re okay? What happened up here?”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes, so Rocco looked to Ace.

  “I did as we planned. Attacked the first person I saw. Except she was already in the process of falling backward. I grabbed her by the throat, as much to try to stop her from falling as to stop my own forward movement. We both fell to the floor and she hit her head. But she’s fine. We need to go.”

  Rocco knew his adrenaline hadn’t subsided yet, could feel it coursing through his veins. “You put your hands on her throat?” he hissed at his friend.

  “Rocco,” Caite said, putting a palm on his cheek and trying to get him to look at her. “He didn’t know it was me. And he didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

  He loved the feel of her hand on his skin. Her palm tickled his beard and made him want to press against her hand. “How are you here?” he asked, still confused beyond belief.

  “I overheard the brothers saying they’d thrown you guys into the cellar of their dad’s store. They planned to come back tomorrow night to shoot you. I…I didn’t know who to talk to about it and my boss wouldn’t listen. I wasn’t sure who knew you guys were here, or why you were here. So I found the address of the store on one of the brother’s conference registration papers and…here I am.”

  There were so many holes to her story, Rocco didn’t know where to start.

  “Not now,” Gumby warned once more. “We need to get the fuck out of here. I’ll take the tablets. You and Caite head out, and me and Ace’ll have your back. We’ll follow you until we’re out of the neighborhood. We can hail a cab but since we don’t have any money, we’ll have to carjack it.”

  “Um…I have money,” Caite said hesitatingly.

  “Of course you do,” Gumby said with a slight smile. “Right, so we’ll follow you two until we can find a cab. It might be a long walk. This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood for taxis to be driving around.”