by Dale Mayer
He rubbed the scar across his back. Some things never changed. Some things one never forgot. He’d been a long time getting back to active duty and even longer back to his SEAL team. But it was Dr. Sasha that had made it possible. He loved the guys he worked with – trusted them all. Damn good men. Even after all he’d been through there was nothing else in the world he wanted to do.
His headset crackled in his ear. All quiet.
But the doc who’d saved his life and helped him make it back to the job he loved was supposed to be inside that hellhole.
Keeping low and moving fast, Cooper raced around the corner of the tree to the far side of the shack. Keeping to the shadows his eyes moved constantly, looking for something – anything – that would confirm the hostages were here.
Nothing moved. Now the moon was sneaking out from behind the clouds, and he wanted to take another look. He quickly relayed his new position to the others. Moonlight shone down, rippling on the waves as they lapped up against the long wharf.
There were no vehicles to show how the hostages had been transported to this point, and given the shack’s location, they could only assume the hostages arrived by water. And would be taken out the same way.
And that couldn’t be allowed to happen.
So far there’d been only silence surrounding the kidnapping. There’d been no demands made. No videos posted online. No boasting or laughing. Just an eerie silence that was more haunting than anything else.
Something caught his eye. He had no idea what he was looking at, but it was odd. He narrowed his focus, tried to identify the object and realized it was an older model army rig camouflaged in the trees.
Finally, a sign.
Chapter 3
Sasha huddled beside her three coworkers. They were squashed in the corner of the dilapidated building that smelled of old fish and…fear. This nightmare was entering the tenth hour. There’d been no sign of rescue. And once a boat arrived, they were being moved to a ship anchored offshore. Just the thought made her want to cry. Dear God. If they weren’t rescued soon then the opportunity would be lost.
The gunmen had laughed and told them how they’d be made examples of, as a warning to the Western world. Made famous by YouTube. She didn’t even know what terrorist group held them.
She’d woken with a headache and dried blood from a split scalp to find herself trussed up in the back of a truck. After what had seemed like hours of traveling she’d been dumped here. The air was damp, salty…
And the thought of being spirited away in the dark terrified her.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the people they’d left behind. The patients. The need was great and the number of trained medical personnel were few. Now even less. Theresa, the only other woman captive, had flown over on the same flight with Sasha but had signed up for a full year.
Sasha didn’t know if she could do that. David, the other member of their small group, was a retired military doctor and had devoted his life to helping others. The same as Dr. Ron Landry.
Five of them had been taken in all. Two women, three men. All had worked at the same clinic, all doctors except for the driver. That left two nurses behind. And neither were American. She groaned silently and took a quick look around. Her driver, Jamel, lay on the far side, most likely dead. He’d been shot while trying to escape. Ron had raced over to help him and taken a bullet for his efforts too.
The rest had been warned back.
She glanced down at Ron. The oldest doctor of their group by a couple of decades, he lay beside her, the sweat pouring off his face. He needed medical treatment, but the kidnappers refused to let them help. He didn’t have long if he didn’t get that bullet out and the bleeding stopped. To make it worse, he was in a great deal of pain.
She gently stroked his shoulder with one hand as she adjusted his makeshift bandage with the other. Anger burned inside. This was despicable. Ron had devoted his life to helping others. He’d always been one of those who stepped up and out to help anyone in need.
She could see the still form of the driver along the wall. She didn’t know what role he’d played in this – if any. Had he helped the terrorists? Been killed for his efforts? But why? Surely, they’d reward him instead. He’d always stuck close to them at the camp – maybe too close now that she thought about it – moving the doctors from one area to another as needed. Was he a traitor and was possibly double-crossed and killed for his efforts? Or an innocent bystander?
Their kidnappers had shot the two men so fast, maybe they hadn’t cared who they killed. They were all about fear, terror, pain, maximum damage.
She deliberately avoided looking at the gunmen. She didn’t want to draw any attention her way. For the same reason she rested her head on her folded arm and kept her free arm on Ron. Keeping pressure on his wound, keeping him calm was all she could do.
Did anyone even know they’d been kidnapped? And if so how long before they were rescued? Or were they just going to be another casualty of war. A statistic. A number the world would glance past not really understanding what it meant. Who it hurt. There was no sense to it. She’d been shocked to see the size of the refugee camp. The sheer number of physical ailments and the injuries needing treatment.
She’d left behind four pregnant women due to give birth in the next week. She had managed to get one little girl’s dislocated shoulder fixed before she’d been hauled out to attend to Yalta. She’d left behind a little boy with a broken leg. She hoped he got that leg set properly.
Ron’s harsh breathing slowed. She eyed him carefully. At sixty-one, he’d been doing this type of work for over twenty years. How sad that there was twenty years of strife somewhere in the world that required his skill set. Now he was going to die for his efforts. She hated that. He’d done so much good in the world. He deserved to be treated better.
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Almost impossible to do with panic sitting just below the surface and her nerves, raw, screaming. But sleep was the only thing that would make time pass and even that was going to be painful. Her body ached after the long truck ride, and now they were sitting on the hard wooden floor. They hadn’t had any food or water since leaving the camp either. Her throat was parched and the ocean breeze was making it worse.
The last thing she wanted was to dwell on their possible future. Yet it was hard not to after all the horrible videos that had been splashed over the Internet. Countries would only offer aid if it was safe for their people. Killing her group would send a strong message to deter more from coming. And that was too bad.
She’d heard about the videos of hangings, mass burnings, people being put into cages and drowned. What made these terrorists so angry, so full of hate? How could they do this to their fellow man? No respect for life. They didn’t see their victims as people, only as bugs to be squashed.
A sudden spat in a language she didn’t recognize between two guards made her peer through her hair to see what was going on. Two men raced to the door. Two others raced toward her yelling at them to stand up.
Bending over Ron, she tried to help him to his feet, but he was barely conscious and she couldn’t hold his weight. David stepped in to help when a rifle butt hit him up the side of the head. David lost his grip and Ron collapsed to the ground.
He never made a sound. She cried out but Theresa held her back from going to him. The gunmen separated them from him and moved the group to the doorway and outside. The moon was high and shone bright overhead. She tried hard to look around. She wanted to leave a trail, a sign for someone that they’d been here. That they needed help.
The gunmen didn’t give her a chance.
She cast one last look at Ron before she was pushed out of his sight. He needed medical attention, and if he didn’t survive he deserved a proper burial. He was a hero. And should be remembered as such.
At gunpoint they were moved down to the edge of the dock where a motorboat waited. She tried to take stock of their location in case she could send aid
back for Ron. The building smelled like an old fish cannery. But it was too small.
The woods were dark. Shadows moved in the darkness. She caught the slight movement out of the corner of her eye. It was to be expected that they’d have other guards in the woods.
But no signs of a rescue.
Resistance was futile. Helpless, they were pushed on board. Two gunmen joined them. The powerful engine fired to life and slowly pulled away. They kept the lights off. Damn, she could barely see anything.
Offshore sat a large ship of some kind. She didn’t know how international water laws worked here, and although she hoped she was still in Turkey she doubted she would be soon.
David reached over and grabbed her hand. “I’m going overboard,” he murmured.
No, she screamed inside but didn’t say a word. Silently she shook her head, her gaze pleading with him to not do this. He stood up as if shifting his position. The gunman hit him on the shoulder with his gun.
David grabbed for the gun but the second gunman slammed into him. David fell to the bottom of the boat. The gunman fell over the side. He splashed and cried out for help, but the weight of his clothing and gear quickly pulled him under. She watched in horror as the disturbance in the water diminished as he sank deeper.
The other gunman roared in outrage as the boat driver pulled the boat into slow wide circles looking for their fallen comrade.
After ten minutes of fruitless searching, the kidnappers, pissed, their faces ridged with anger, turned the boat back to the ship waiting for them.
Now there were only two of them, but the one looked all too ready to shoot. Shit. With only the three hostages left, their odds of overpowering these men and escaping looked worse by the moment. She stared straight ahead and tried to marshal her thought.
A blast exploded behind them. She spun around.
The remaining gunman shouted and waved at the pilot. She didn’t understand the words, but she understood the urgency. The pilot gunned the boat. Good, that hadn’t been part of their plan. Behind her gunfire blazed into the night. She smiled fiercely. Damn well time. These assholes they’d left behind had been found and were taking heavy fire. Not heavy enough for her.
She twisted in her seat to stare at the shack they’d left behind. A second blast rent the air, and the building where Ron lay burst into flames. She stared at the flames in horror, tears coming to her eyes. Theresa reached out a hand and grabbed her. Sasha sniffled.
She was torn between diving into the water and trying to reach land and the obvious rescue going on there or stay here and hope the rescuers realized where they’d been taken too. She was a strong swimmer.
“No don’t.” Theresa tugged her closer. “They’ll shoot you too.”
The lone gunmen clicked his gun against her shoulder and pointed it at her head. She realized they’d read her mind. She slowly sat back down, her gaze on the fiery scene behind them.
Please, dear God, please let somebody have seen them on the boat.
The small motorboat pulled up beside a larger vessel looming out of the water in the dark. Terrifyingly large.
She couldn’t read the writing on the side. But the letters looked Greek to her, which considering they weren’t very far off the Greek coastline made sense. The motor boat drifted toward a ladder. At the gunman’s prodding the three were forced up the ladder and onto the deck.
“Climb,” said the closest male. He shoved her forward. She tripped, but David caught her before she hit the floor.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“Just take it easy,” he said, helping her onto the ladder. Once on top, they were grabbed and dragged down another set of stairways, inside a hallway and down to a room. They were shoved and locked inside.
Grateful for the reprieve, she threw herself across one bed…
“What are they going to do with us,” Theresa cried out, taking the second bed. “Does anybody know where we are?”
“I don’t,” Sasha whispered. “But the terrorists were fighting off someone on shore.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” David warned. “They could have been just burning any evidence they might have left behind.”
“I heard gunfire,” Sasha said.
“I did too.” Theresa laid down on the mattress. “I hope somebody rescued Ron before they blew up that building.” She rolled over onto her side and faced the wall. “He was a good man.”
In a pained voice, Sasha added, “We have to stay hopeful. And we have to stay strong. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”
“We have to find a way to get off this ship.” Theresa sat up and stared at the others. “That’s the only way we’re going to survive.”
“We’re also not underway,” David said. “That’s a good thing. There are other boats on the deck. We could make it to shore. We don’t need much time, but we do need that window of opportunity.”
“I think our window of opportunity has already closed,” Sasha said. “We should have overpowered them when the man went overboard.”
David shook his head. “They’d have shot us.” He groaned. “They’d have waited until we surfaced then shot us dead.”
*
Cooper raced along the front of the wharf. Where were the boats? They were supposed to be here already. He glanced behind him but flames blocked his view. A boat carrying six had managed to escape. That there were two women in that group was great news. They’d rescued one injured man from inside the burning building and handed him off to the Turkish team.
He’d been in a bad way so they hadn’t managed to get any information out of him, but they’d recognized Dr. Landry. That meant the others were close by. In the distance he could see a large ship standing silent in the dark – no lights – no noise.
Damn it, they should be out on the water already. The moon drifted behind the clouds casting a dark shadow over the water and highlighting the whitecaps.
Three sleek black watercraft pulled up. He and the other men climbed on board. The hostages had to be on this freighter. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. Not when they were so close.
In the bottom of the boat was scuba gear.
He hoped it wouldn’t be needed, but if it was necessary he was glad to have it. Mason leaned closer. “The Turkish underwater team is ahead of us.”
“Understood,” Cooper said.
“It still sucks though,” said Swede. “I could use the swim.” His grin flashed in the dark.
Mason laughed. “Maybe you could go for one afterwards. Just for fun.”
Spray hit them in the face as the boat slammed down on the water. At the speed they were traveling in the dark, the rough waters, they were hitting waves face on. And dropping on the other side. They’d get a swim after all if this kept up. Cooper grabbed the side of the boat as it slammed down hard a second time.
By the time they came alongside the freighter, a storm looked ready to crack overhead. Knowing that the thunder and heavy winds would cover some of their approach but not all, the men silently unfurled grappling hooks.
Once on top, Cooper crouched low. With the moon playing hide-and-go-seek with the storm clouds, visibility was limited. Both good and bad. Outside of his own team, the deck appeared empty. There should be a half dozen people to man a ship this size, including the hostages, potentially twice that amount.
With the teams racing along the top and splitting to go down into the layers below, he took the first right and followed the hallway down and down. At each level they checked, looking for the enemy and the hostages.
Too often, on past missions, they found both at the same time – with shitty results all around.
Hearing a voice up ahead, he stopped outside a door and listened. A woman’s voice. Motioning to Swede who was behind him, they stepped to either side of the door. He tried the handle.
The door was locked.
The voices inside stilled.
At a motion to move back from Swede, Cooper complied. With a sharp kick, the
entire door knob snapped off and hung drunkenly to the side.
Cooper grinned ferociously and lashing out a second time the door opened.
Inside three terrified faces stared at him. His gaze went from one to the other and…stopped. One woman and one man and the elf in the middle, Dr. Sasha. He studied her. Traumatized but physically, she was fine. Something settled deep inside.
Swede quickly identified themselves then asked, “Are any of you hurt?”
They all shook their heads. Cooper studied the dried blood on the man’s head.
The man stepped forward. “I’m fine. Just an argument with the butt of a rifle,” he said.
Cooper nodded. “Are there any more of you here?”
“No,” Dr. Sasha said. “Dr. Landry, who was badly injured was left behind in the warehouse.” That there was a hardness to her tone didn’t surprise him. This group had already seen enough of the war-torn country. Watching their friend gunned down would have finished the job.
“And our driver,” said the tall, lanky woman. “Don’t forget him. He was killed in the warehouse too.”
“We found Dr. Landry,” Cooper whispered. He peered into the hallway.
At the women’s gasps, he held his finger to his lips. “He’s alive but in rough shape.”
Dr. Sasha whispered, “They wouldn’t let us help him. They gunned him down when he tried to help the driver.”
With Swede leading, he motioned at them to follow. One by one they raced behind his friend and teammate. They made it topside without meeting anyone. That bothered him. Surely someone would be on guard.
Just as they raced to the side where he could help them down, gunfire filled the air.
One of the women cried out and the group hit the floor. He grabbed Dr. Sasha and maneuvered her toward the edge. “Go now.”
She sent him a startled look then looked at the railing.
“Move it,” he ordered.
She took a deep breath and grabbed for the ladder now hanging down over the edge. He watched her progress. When she was down far enough, he motioned at the second woman. “Hurry. We’re out of time.”
