Celine glanced at the blue garment laid out on the bed and cringed. “No way. Your dad brought me new clothing to wear today.” She glanced around for the fashionable jeans and blouse.
“You want to go home, then you put it on.”
“Where is your father? I need to talk to him.”
“My father has wasted enough time on you.”
“I’m not wearing that.”
“Then you won’t leave this room,” Solana said and Celine got the distinct impression the girl smirked behind her mask.
“I demand to see Mr. Mankel.” Celine crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
“What more do you want from him? He saved your life, you expect him to completely interrupt his schedule for your every little whim? You Americans are so full of yourself.” Solana stepped forward, her gown floating around her like a ghost.
Celine clenched her hands into fists at her sides and tried to remember this was not her home. She would be on a plane to the United States today and never have to see this horrible place or this horrible girl again. “Fine. I’ll wear it. But only over my new clothes and as soon as I’m on that plane, I’m trashing it.”
Solana hovered so close to her she caught a glimpse of her wide eyes through the fine grill of material and felt the first surge of satisfaction. “Here.” Solana opened a nearby mahogany trunk, pulled out Celine’s clothing and tossed it to her.
Celine caught her jeans mid-air, grabbed the burka off the bed and marched back into the bathroom to dress.
Before she knew it she was standing before the floor length mirror staring at herself through the masked head scarf, fighting off the grips of claustrophobia. Breathe. Just until you get on the plane.
Celine emerged from the bathroom and stood stiff while Solana walked in a slow circle around her. “Good. Follow me. Keep your eyes lowered and do not speak to anyone.”
“How would anyone know if I had my eyes lowered or not in this thing?” Celine countered.
Solana kept quiet for once and strode from the room, leaving Celine to chase after her. Caroline might already be waiting and then they’d be on their way home, together.
Solana hurried down the hall and Celine limped along behind her, catching quick flashes of tall marble statues and beautiful paintings.
“Keep up, I don’t have all day.” Solana’s sharp words snapped Celine back to the present. Solana turned a corner, her blue robes swishing behind her and then they were outside, surrounded by potted plants and bright tropical looking flowers. Huge fountains dotted the courtyard and a black Land Rover, like the one that brought her here, sat parked and waiting, two burly men in black suits standing guard.
“Where is Caroline?” Celine stopped a few feet away.
“She’s being escorted down, get in the car.” Solana gestured to the open back door.
“I’m not getting in there without Caroline.” Everything about this morning was wrong. Mr. Mankel should have been here. Caroline should be here. Solana gestured to one of the men and Celine’s chest tightened as she stumbled back a step.
“Stupid Americans always so bossy. Well you won’t be for long, your new owner will see to that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Trent, put her in the back, but be careful not to bruise her further.”
The blond man with a scar running down his jaw crossed the distance between them so quickly she didn’t have time to react. He hauled her to the car and tossed her in the back seat. Celine scrambled for the other door, but he grabbed her foot and yanked, sending her sprawling on the seat. The door in front of her opened and Solana stood there.
“You should learn to keep your mouth shut, it will make your life much easier in the future. Dmitri doesn’t like mouthy women.”
Celine started to shake as she realized she wasn’t going to meet the senator, or even going home. “My family will find me.”
“Your family doesn’t care about you. No one does.” Solana hissed and leaned down over Celine.
She felt a sharp prick in her arm, saw Solana holding a needle and her terror returned.
“Caroline.” Celine’s tongue felt thick and heavy, her body hot.
“You want to see your precious Caroline?” Solana slowly lifted the veil covering her face.
Celine tried to scream but all she could do was moan and stare up helplessly into the girls face.
There was no scarred skin or even the dark hair and skin like she’d expected. No, Celine stared up at the picturesque blond beauty of Caroline Cotter.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You ready, Ghost?” Aaron crouched behind a cluster of boulders on the west side of the road at the center of the small valley where the meet would take place. Mountains jutted up from the earth, tall and stark, marking the start of the Hindukush Mountain range at the border of the desert.
“I’m ready.” Ghost lifted his binoculars and swept the south region where the caravan should be arriving. “Crow’s nest, ready?”
“Roger,” Hoyt said through the comm. He and Jared had set up directly above Aaron and Ghost on the first over watch position.
“Charlie, ready?” Ghost asked.
“Roger, the B&B is up and running.” Beatle and Blade from Delta Force had set up on the hill top across the road for second over watch.
Hollywood and Fletch were positioned on the east side of the road behind some thick shrubs and rocks. “Check.”
“Got movement. Two tangos approaching from the south, one klick out.” Cord Carter’s voice came through their secure communication line. He was with the rest of TF-S at the south entrance to the valley, ready to fall in behind the cars carrying the girls coming up from the south.
“We got three coming from up top. Half a klick.” Aaron recognized Truck’s deep voice, the man aptly named. “Three men per vehicle. They’re armed.” Coach and Riser were with Truck, ready to cut off any vehicle trying to make a run when the shit went down.
Their goal was simple, get Celine and Caroline out unharmed from an unknown number of enemy combatants on a mission they’d only had hours to plan.
“The Russian’s made the party,” Truck said.
A few seconds later a line of white SUV’s entered the valley from the north and parked about fifty meters from center. Aaron didn’t need his binoculars this close to see loaded vehicles. “Crow, you got a bead?”
“Roger.”
“South SUV’s breaching. Ready. Four men in the first vehicle, two in the next. No sign of the targets,” Hunter said. Hunter, Ranger, Ethan and Cord would fall in behind as soon as they gave the signal.
This could be a trap if Mr. J knew they were in the country, he knew TF-S wouldn’t let him harm Celine or Caroline. On the heels of that thought, came another - just because they couldn’t see the girls sitting up in the vehicles didn’t mean they weren’t there. If Mr. J had wanted easy transport, two unconscious bodies were a lot easier to handle. “Need to be ready for carry out.”
The second vehicle parked fifty meters from center, almost directly in front of Aaron. He searched the windows of the black SUVs for any sign of the girls.
“She’s in there, my intel was right. Trust me,” Ghost said.
How the hell was he supposed to trust anyone with Celine’s life?
Aaron forced himself to relax, got his heart rate under control and focused on the man getting out of the white SUV on the right. “We got a briefcase.”
The man was typical for security – big, broad shoulders, black suit and black sunglasses. Two pistols poking out of his open jacket in brown leather holsters.
The team had set up in a wide circle all the way around the meeting place, no one was getting in or out without their permission. The man held up his briefcase and approached the black vehicles with his arms raised and stopped halfway between the SUVs. A few seconds later, the four men in the first vehicle from Mr. J’s caravan got out and approached. What followed next was standard operat
ing procedure for black market deals. The suitcase guy showed the cash, the other man inspected it and gestured to his crew.
“On my signal,” Ghost said.
The front doors of the second black SUV opened, an armed guard on each side. The driver went to the back and opened the door.
“The girls must be in the last SUV.” Aaron’s gaze locked on that open door, cursing that he was on the passenger side and couldn’t see directly in the vehicle. “Fletch?”
“Got one female. She’s gonna need a carry out.”
Fuck. Aaron’s gut clenched down tight. Was it Celine? Was she okay?
The guard leaned down into the vehicle.
“Easy, man,” Ghost muttered. “B&B, you ready?”
The thought of what she’d been through, what they could’ve done to her…Aaron rubbed his burning chest, feeling the hollow ache like someone had drilled out his heart.
“On my count,” Beatle said. “One. Two. Three.”
Two bullets whizzed through the air, their loud boom muffled by silencers and the two men closest to the girl fell.
Aaron jumped to his feet and took off at a full out sprint for the men surrounding the SUVs, Ghost pounding it out behind him. The Russians vehicles roared to life and slammed into reverse. Two more shots pinged into their windshields and the vehicles rolled to a stop.
Aaron honed in on the back SUV. The passenger lifted his pistol and Aaron fired off three rounds, still running. The passenger slumped to his knees and hit the dirt.
“Get her, I’ll hold them off,” Ghost shouted and made a right toward the front SUV.
The driver glanced behind him and saw Hollywood, Fletch and Merc running in his direction. Aaron knew the minute the man realized his doom. The driver dove through the open back seat and came out on the other side, yanking the unconscious girl with him.
Rage erupted like a volcano at the sight of the other man touching her. Aaron exploded forward reaching the vehicle in ten pounding footsteps. The man frantically tried to pull the girl out of the car and sling her over his shoulder.
Aaron transferred his pistol to his left hand, yanked his knife out with his right, running full force. The guard straightened and Aaron embedded his knife to the hilt in his throat.
The guard dropped, grabbing at his throat and gurgling. Aaron snatched the girl from his shoulder before she hit the ground.
For that one heartbreaking second he completely forgot about his surroundings as he peeled back the blue veil to reveal Celine’s beautiful face. His breath caught. She was alive. Celine was alive.
A bullet pinged into the car over his head and Aaron dropped to the ground and shoved Celine between him and the back tire.
A man stumbled around the front of the SUV, running to the side of the road. Aaron heard the sniper round a nanosecond before the man flew backwards, dead. The fight ended quickly after that. The two SF teams had set up a near perfect death trap for the swap.
“Clear,” Jared said from his position with his brother at over watch.
“Clear,” Beatle said.
Aaron holstered his weapon and pulled Celine back into his arms, carefully brushing his fingertips across her cheek. A dark puffy bruise marred the right side of her face. Her bottom lip was swollen. He’d seen worse, much worse, but on Celine…Mr. J was a dead man.
“Caroline’s not in any of the vehicles.” Hunter stepped into his line of vision
“I need to check her for injuries. They’ve got her covered in this damn thing.” The blue burka was a sacrament to her.
“You try to wake her?” Ghost asked.
Aaron drew in a steady breath. “Celine, sweetheart can you hear me?”
She didn’t move an inch.
Someone touched his shoulder, and Aaron glanced back to see Ethan standing right behind him. “If they use the same stuff on her as they did on Kate, she’ll be out for a while.”
Fucking bastards. At the first kidnapping, in the states, the men had used a heavy dose of opiates to knock the women out. Ethan’s girlfriend, Kate, was the only one TF-S had managed to rescue and she’d been out for over twenty-four hours from the drugs.
Aaron gently brushed his fingers through her hair, attempting to hide the fact his hands shook from the rest of the team, and checked her skull. “I don’t feel any injuries. Give me an ETA on the helo.”
“Big bird, what’s your ETA?” Ghost had pulled a small com radio from his belt.
“Ten minutes.”
“Roger.”
“Ethan, pop the hatch on that SUV, I want to check her.”
Aaron stood with Celine in his arms and the group of big Delta Force and TF-S men moved back to give him room. Ghost and Ethan let the back seat down, giving him the whole back end of SUV to gently lay Celine down.
“Riser, come help me,” Aaron said. He and Riser had the most field medical training in their group.
Riser came to lean in the back of the SUV beside him, effectively blocking Celine’s body from the rest of the group. They would have to undress her to check for injuries. Aaron reached for the burka, his hand fucking shaking like a baby.
“Hey, let me.” Riser pulled out his knife and Aaron moved his hand back as his teammate lifted the collar of Celine’s gown and sliced through the material.
Aaron blew out the breath he’d been holding when he saw that she had on jeans and a blouse beneath this one. They finished removing the burka and Aaron forced himself to stop thinking like a wounded husband and instead act like the trained soldier he was.
Careful for hidden injuries, he tugged the loose jeans down to her knees and froze. His hands went numb. His mouth went numb. His chest went numb. Nearly black bruises in the pattern of finger prints spread out over her inner thighs.
Aaron started to shake.
“Fuck,” Riser muttered.
He tried to swallow but his throat wouldn’t work. She’d been…dammit. He couldn’t even finish the thought.
Riser gripped his arm. “You don’t know for sure yet, brother. Why don’t you let me finish checking her? We need to evac pronto.”
It was all Aaron could do to rasp out, “No. I need to do it.”
Fighting back the rage, he finished removing her jeans. The only other injury to her legs was covered by a bandage around her left ankle. He left it alone, knowing on some instinctual level, that if he saw her skin rubbed raw from a shackle he might puke.
Riser resumed position, his back to Celine and Aaron slowly lifted her shirt, her bruised and battered breasts a gut wrenching twist of agony to his heart.
Aaron threw his head back and bit his cheek to keep back the scream of fury. He tasted blood.
Riser didn’t turn until Aaron had lowered her shirt once more and replaced her jeans. Two full weeks she’d been held captive. Two weeks she’d been at the mercy of a monster.
He’d seen what men could do to a woman. Leave them broken and bloody and a hollow shell. Goddammit. Nausea crawled up his stomach with razor sharp claws at the thought of seeing Celine’s exotic green eyes all empty and scared when she woke…
“Everything okay?” He heard Ethan’s voice from a distance, but couldn’t talk.
Riser seemed to sense it and answered for him. “She’ll be okay for now, but needs medical attention.”
Aaron lifted her back into his arms and lowered his head to her neck, shuddering. He had to lean against the SUV for support.
Mr. J was a dead man walking. Aaron would slit his throat himself.
“We’ll handle cleanup. Ethan, go with Aaron. Make sure they get taken care of at the hospital,” Hunter said.
“Roger,” Ethan answered.
“Aaron, stay with her, make sure she makes it back to the States.”
Aaron glanced up to see his team leader’s face full of understanding and sympathy. Here they were, coming down off a deadly firefight in the middle of Afghanistan and all he could think about was the girl in his arms. “I’ll get her to a hospital, make sure she’ll recover,
but I’m coming back. That bastard is gonna die.”
“We got it covered. You don’t have to come back here, you should take care of your woman.” Ranger said.
Aaron glanced down at Celine, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest, telling himself she was alive and would be okay. Physically at least.
The man he and TF-S had been hunting for nearly two years. Mr. J was responsible for the death of Shane Carter, Cord’s cousin and former TF-S sniper. He’d tried to have TF-S ambushed and murdered, twice. Now this…
Was he willing to give up his chance at revenge for Celine?
The helicopters loud roar filled the valley, touching down and throwing up a small sand storm. There was a hospital in Germany, he could drop her there, have her watched and come back. He might even be able to get back to her side before she woke, if he was lucky.
“If we find Mr. J before you get back, I’ll give him a nice hello from you.” Merc, the biggest bad ass on their team, the guy who never spoke - hell Aaron didn’t even know what unit the guy was in before TF-S.
“Thanks, brother, but I’ll be back.”
“I’ve got you headed to the nearest SF medical facility. It’s just over the border in Uzbekistan. The doctor there has worked with us a few times, I trust him,” Ghost said. “Good luck with your woman.”
“Thanks.”
Aaron followed behind Ethan, shielding Celine’s skin from the sand blast thrown up by the helicopter blades. Ethan pulled the door open, hopped inside and then held out his arms. Aaron reluctantly passed Celine to him, launched up into the interior and settled back into one of the seats. Ethan gave Celine back without a word and slammed the door shut.
As they lifted off and headed north west, Aaron focused on Celine and the bruise on her cheek. She’d been struck hard. He’d taken punches to the face, knew the feeling of a blunt fist slamming into your bones and he was a full grown man. Celine was a foot shorter and at least a hundred pounds lighter.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Aaron's Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Men of Mercy Book 8) Page 5
