“I don’t want to think about tomorrow, not when tonight is so perfect.” Anastacia didn’t have to reach up for more kisses, not when his lips found hers almost on command.
She couldn’t fall in love with a stranger.
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
“What about you, what does tomorrow bring for you?” The night was still young, but if she stayed any longer, she couldn’t be responsible for her actions—which could only have consequences. He followed her towards the cloak room.
“I would tell you, but then I’d have to—” another kiss delayed any detail.
“You’re not going to pull a ‘National Security’ defence on me, are you?” She laughed at the flash of truth across his face.
“I might be starting a new job.”
“I guess, this is goodbye, then.” Anastacia hoped to leave while he wanted her to stay. While the night was still relatively young and neither of them had any reason to look back on their perfect kisses with regret.
“Are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?” he asked yet again. In any other lifetime, Anastacia wanted nothing more, but her father’s warnings refused to stay silent.
“Maybe another time.” Words they both knew to be untrue. Without exchanging names or seeing each other’s faces, tonight would be forever remembered for a perfect, one-night romance.
“If I don’t see you before then, shall we at least exchange names at next year’s ball?” The stranger held open the back door of the taxi cab, his lips not leaving hers until she settled into the seat, before fastening the belt around her waist.
“Until next year,” she blew him kisses threw the window as the taxi pulled away from the curb.
Not until the taxi stopped at a green set of traffic lights did Anastacia realize she had been too distracted to do her normal safety checks before getting in—her heart sank as the face of the driver didn’t match the face on the photo ID pinned to the windshield.
Before she could react, both back doors opened. One man, dressed in black, got into the far side while another used a gun to force her to move into the middle seat.
“Drive!” a calm instruction to the driver as the scream died in her throat. No one would hear and it had been so quick, no one would have even seen the smooth hijacking.
The man without the gun ripped off her mask, “It’s her.” Grabbing her bag, he removed her phone but ignored her wallet. “Password?”
Anastacia’s mouth was too dry to talk, trying to take in all the details that hopefully someone would ask her about later. Their faces, freshly shaven and dark blue beanies hid their hairlines. The backseat of the cab was dark, but she needed to try and find any distinguishing features so she could recognize them later.
Oh, no!
Other than dark clothes and beanies, they weren’t wearing masks or doing anything to hide their identity. They didn’t seem to care that she could see or recognize them! Her body froze as Anastacia realized that remembering details might not matter, chances were that she wouldn’t make it out of the car or through the night, alive.
All the things she’d never done flashed through her mind as they drove out of the city towards the industrial estate near the docks.
She’d lived all over the world between her father and ex-husband but had never had a home of her own. One with a vegetable garden and rose bushes. Across diplomatic families all over the world, Anastacia was everyone’s favorite aunty but had never held a child of her own. She’d sat for dozens of paintings and studio photos, but never learned how to bring a person to life on canvas or in print.
Even her pets were always somebody’s left-overs—abandoned when the previous owners moved on and she moved into the house. Just once, she wanted to pick out a puppy and form a bond from their first night together.
The car pulled to a stop and hands dragged her towards an abandoned warehouse. Her high heels scraped against the concrete floor as her captors preferred the power of force over letting her walk.
The man with no gun roughly shoved her against a metal support beam. “Ahh,” she cried as her head connected with the pole, the sly smiles from the three men obviously welcomed her pain. All hope of leaving the warehouse alive faded. She only hoped it would be quick and that her father would forgive her stupidity and not blame himself.
“The password.”
“3478,” she said, trying to think positive thoughts—she wasn’t dead yet. Surely, if they wanted to murder her, the car would have been quick and easy; they could have rolled her body into a ditch. That had to mean they wanted her alive, for at least a little longer; but to do what? The cable ties strapping her arms around the pole hurt, but none of the men had touched her dress or looked at her with any passion or longing, she allowed herself to hope that her death wouldn’t start with being assaulted.
“I don’t have internet banking set up on my phone.” She only picked up her new phone and SIM card during the week. “I don’t have any money.” But they hadn’t removed her wallet or credit card from her bag which was laying on the ground next to her feet.
“Remember, no talking. We only need visuals.” The taller man with the gun instructed, holding the phone to capture each blow. The other two men took turns, three punches to her abdomen, another three higher.
The taxi driver took the greatest delight, “Her face?” He didn’t even wait long enough for a response when her head was smacked back against the pole with the force of two, three or maybe four blows.
Dying shouldn’t be this painful, she thought before blacking out.
Her first thought on regaining consciousness was of the uncomfortable, wet stickiness seeping through her dress. She lay crumpled on the cold concrete floor, hands still pinned behind the pole. Whatever happened, hadn’t been a dream and the voices were talking as if they hadn’t noticed she’d awoken.
“Stupid fool.”
“Could have killed her.”
“Not what he wants.”
“Hospital.”
“Shh, she might hear you.”
“Are you awake, girl?” Anastacia couldn’t see through her bloodied eyes, but they had said “hospital” so perhaps there was still hope.
“Arrgh,” a painful grunt was all she could manage.
“We have recorded every punch for you to watch many times over. One blow for every day you have to pay your debts.”
“No … debts.” Anastacia mumbled, hoping they could understand. “None.”
“What’s that little princess?” The ugly face pressed against hers, “Think about it. Who do you think you are, who have you and yours hurt – and what are you going to do about it?”
Before she could protest further, she felt a sharp sting in her arm from a needle’s plunge and her last thoughts were of her father’s warning and the stranger’s kiss.
ED
One minute they were dancing, and he was building up the courage to ask once more for her name. The next minute, his woman in red turned into Cinderella and he was shutting the door to her taxi cab.
Something about tonight wasn’t right, but then he touched his lips, remembering her kiss. He was out of practice with the whole dating and hooking up scene. Whatever his instincts were trying to warn him about, they probably had more to do with how quickly he could become infatuated with a woman. For one night, he could ignore his inclination to look for the worst in every situation.
Two hours later and he couldn’t avoid going home to his empty apartment. This living alone crap had to end. If not the woman in red who reignited his passions, then there had to be an intelligent woman out there who was willing to build a life and even a family with a soldier.
Pulling into his quiet cul-de-sac, a familiar number appeared on his car’s screen display. Fuck, just the way he didn’t want to end his night.
“Alexander,” he hoped Vaughan wasn’t about to lay another guilt trip on him. He’d agreed to at least meet Vaughan’s daughter out of respect for the man, but a midnight phone
call wasn’t going to make him any happier about it.
“Edison, they tried to kill her.”
Ed pulled into a neighbor’s driveway, all thoughts of the evening evaporating as his professional training kicked in. Vaughan’s babbling wasn’t giving him any useful information.
“Sir, if I can interrupt, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened.”
“I’m at the hospital and she’s in surgery. The bastards left her for dead!”
“Text me the address, I’m on my way.”
Shit.
A kiss by any other name
ED
As Ed arrived at the inner-city hospital, he half-regretted only having two glasses of wine early in the evening – a gentle buzz would take the sting out of walking through accident and emergency to the main foyer. Hospitals all over the world had the same smell, triggering more memories than he cared to face. A male nurse escorted him to the surgical waiting room where he almost didn’t recognize the shrunken shell of a man alone on the olive-green fake leather visitor’s chair. Okay, sober was better than plastered.
If possible, Vaughan looked worse than he had earlier in the day when pleading for help. The stress of the past hours had taken a shocking toll, enough that Ed could put aside his ego and thoughts of babysitting duties. Today had been filled with enough regret––from not taking Vaughan’s concerns seriously to not capturing the woman in red’s phone number when he had the chance. When was he going to learn that life was short, and decisions had consequences?
Then again, he couldn’t do anything about his non-existent love life, but he could at least help a friend, even if the only thing he was qualified to do was sit and listen.
“Thanks for coming.” Vaughan hadn’t even noticed his arrival until Ed coughed discretely.
“What happened?”
“She was off at some damn party; after our talk, I had begged her to stay home and not to go but she didn’t want to listen. We got into another silly argument before she stormed off, assuring me she was safe.”
“What happened?” Ed didn’t need to know the family drama or the guilt so apparent over Vaughan’s face—the poor man wanted to protect his daughter and failed. Ed had his own guilt; he should have trusted Vaughan’s professional instincts and gotten involved sooner.
“The hospital security guards found a woman rolled up in a blanket in the ambulance bay. They’re checking the security feeds now, but they think she was tossed out of a taxi like a piece of garbage.”
Shit. Ed started working through the possible scenarios. If they wanted her dead, they would have abandoned the body in a park, covered up with newspapers so it wouldn’t be found until light. Or tossed into the depths of Sydney Harbour.
“They’re sending you or her a message, was there a note?”
“She’s my baby girl,” Vaughan cried, oblivious to Ed’s question.
“Sir, I need you to tell me everything you know. I’m right here, I will help but you need to give me all the information so I can do my job.”
“Between the two of you, I thought I was being overly protective. Damn it, Ed, she had me convinced that she’d be safe at least for the night until you could look after her properly.”
“Sir, I need you to think. Did you receive a message?”
Ed took the liberty of checking Vaughan’s jacket pocket for his phone—flashing with either a missed call or message.
“Sir, can you please unlock your phone?”
Thankfully, Vaughan was lost in his own prayers when Ed stepped away to play the recorded message. The woman’s cries were painful enough to hear when they were those of a stranger, Ed could only imagine Vaughan’s reaction.
“Constable Bellini,” a uniformed officer, far too young to have enough experience approached them. “Colonel Richard Vaughan?”
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Edison Alexander. Can we speak privately?” Ed nodded towards his boss who was still lost in a trance, staring down the hall to where the doctors seemed to appear and disappear at will. “The Colonel needs a few minutes to compose himself.”
“Lieutenant Colonel, I was hoping to ask Ms Vaughan’s father some questions.” The slight tremor in the constable’s voice was all the sign Ed needed to take control.
“Constable Bellini, is it?” Waiting for a nod, he continued, “The Colonel is in shock, as you can probably imagine but I have some information that might help start your search.”
Quickly, Ed relayed the marriage breakdown, that she had felt her safety had been compromised and that Ed had been asked, as a family friend, to look out for her.
“Was a report made to the police?”
“There was no direct threat, so Colonel Vaughan didn’t feel the need to bother the police with what could have been a father’s overprotective instinct.” Ed ignored the file Vaughan had shown. The police could only operate within strict guidelines, and only within their jurisdiction. If Ed was going to get to the bottom of this, there were more covert ways of getting the outcome.
“You should hear this recording; it came through on the Colonel’s phone and I’ve only just played it. The Colonel doesn’t have to hear,” Ed urged.
The constable’s face darkened. “They’ll be posting a video?”
“I’m sure you can look out for it online? This was a well-executed kidnapping and release. The girl hadn’t even been reported missing before turning up in the hospital bay so I would say it was staged for maximum emotional impact.”
“I’ll need to take the Colonel’s phone.”
Ed checked the phone again, not Defence issue, so somehow the bastards had gotten Vaughan’s private number. Looking over to Bellini who was about to bag the Colonel’s phone, he asked, “What’s the name on the number that sent the recording?”
“Baby girl,” Constable Bellini raised his eyebrows.
“His daughter—they used her phone to call him.” Bastards.
Vaughan’s security wasn’t compromised, only his personal phone, that could be fixed with one trip home.
The hospital doors at the end of the corridor opened and Vaughan was first to greet the doctor.
“Colonel Vaughan, I’m Dr Stanwell.” The doctor shook hands, his face devoid of any emotion. As hard as he tried, Ed couldn’t get a read as the doctor continued, “Your daughter is a fighter. She’d lost a lot of blood from the single laceration to the lower abdomen. However, the beating itself was done with precision. I’ll warn you that the bruising already looks bad, will increase in color over the next forty-eight hours and will be quite painful. However, the assault avoided her major organs and we expect her to make a full recovery.”
Ed knew a dozen soldiers who could inflict damage with such precision. It took a certain sort of training and sociopathic tendencies to strike in the right place based on the victim’s gender, age and body structure. “The laceration, would you say it was precise or lucky?” Ed didn’t look to Vaughan’s face as he talked analytically about a victim, not a daughter.
“It was a messy cut and I would say lucky in terms of the angle and depth. It appeared that the knife was inserted, grappled, and extracted. At least, that’s my impression, but I was focused on stopping the bleeding and looking for internal organ damage.”
“Thank you doctor,” Vaughan murmured, still in shock. “When can I see her?”
“She is being moved into a private room, but I’d like to keep her in for a couple of days.”
“Doctor, can we talk?” Ed motioned to the constable and doctor to join him in the corridor while Vaughan continued his prayers. “Is there a way Ms Vaughan can be cared for at home? This may have been an attempt on her life, perhaps in retaliation for her father’s occupation or a foreign situation involving her husband.”
The doctor scoffed as if scolding a school child, “I may not have been clear—the assault was quite serious. Ms Vaughan was unconscious on arrival. Given her loss of blood and head blows, it is in her best interests to remain in hospital under my observati
on for at least the next week or two.”
“If I was able to provide a military nurse with the appropriate security qualifications, how soon could you provide a discharge sheet and medications?”
“It’s a risk—but as long as her father agrees and I’m able to consult with your nurse via skype, then I suppose an earlier release is possible but not preferred and certainly not something I would recommend.”
“Constable, if we can arrange an early release, can you make sure Ms Vaughan’s records show that she is still a patient in this hospital? I’ll pay for any additional security and reward any medical personnel who check on our non-existent patient. I’ll also make sure that a full replica of her records are maintained by my private staff and telephoned into the hospital so the files here are maintained.”
“But …” the protests from Dr Stanwell and Constable Bellini were delivered in stereo.
“The Colonel has served his country for three decades and all he wants in return is the assured safety of his daughter. Until you know who did this, why, and take them into custody, I would like Ms Vaughan confidentially released into my care as soon as it is safe to do so.”
“I can give you forty-eight hours before we’d have to officially release the bed.” Dr Stanwell still needed to be convinced, but at least he was wanting to take control over the administration of her records.
“Fine, when is the earliest she can be released?”
“Let her wake up first, and I’ll assess the situation.”
“Then you’d better make sure she has a private room with two spare chairs because I don’t think her father is going to leave, and either I or a friend of mine will be standing guard until you discharge her.”
“Ed,” Vaughan called him back into the main visitors waiting area. “The orderly is taking me to her room, will you come with me?”
“Of course, mate,” he tried to sound supportive even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. The police would do their best, but he had contacts and skills they’d never imagine or be able to use legally. Ed would be better off getting out and into the field, but how could he tell Vaughan? The guy had just spent the last four hours waiting to see if his daughter could pull through surgery and had who knew what thoughts were going through his head. He didn’t deserve to wait alone. No one did.
Defend Her: A military suspense romance (Aussie Military Romance Book 4) Page 3
