by Elle James
She twisted, rolling onto her stomach and reaching out to grab hold of something, anything. The blades of grass used to make the thatch slipped through her fingers. She couldn’t find purchase and plummeted to the ground.
Her feet hit first, her knees buckled and she fell back on her buttocks with a hard thump. The jolt didn’t feel good on her backside, but nothing was broken and she was still conscious. She’d consider that a success.
Resting on her laurels wasn’t a luxury she could afford. The guard could come back through at any moment, and she still had to get Celeste and any other women who might be held captive out of their cells.
Marly jumped to her feet and ran around the hut to the other side. The building stretched fifty feet to her left. She’d been in the outer cell with Celeste next to her. The doors were made of rough planks with rudimentary boards dropped into place, effectively locking the door without a lock.
Marly nearly cried out with excitement. Her luck was just beginning to change. Quickly she shoved the board up on Celeste’s cell and swung the door open.
Celeste fell through and hugged her hard. “Merci beaucoup,” she whispered, hugging her again.
Marly closed Celeste’s door and shifted the board back into the locked position. The guards wouldn’t think they’d escaped if the doors were still closed and locked. She turned to the other woman. “There are more?”
Celeste nodded and pointed to the other doors. “They were in there.”
Each taking a different door, they worked their way along the front of the building. After they’d freed two others, Marly positioned Celeste at the corner of the building to watch for the return of the guard. Marly and the freed women continued to empty the cells. Once they had all the women out, they huddled in the shadows between the long building that had been their prison and another whose roof had caved in and appeared to be abandoned. Counting Marly, there were ten women.
“Do you know if there is an aircraft landing strip near here?” Marly asked Celeste.
Celeste shook her head. “I do not know. I woke up here.” She turned to some of the others and spoke in Swahili.
One woman nodded and pointed.
“She says they brought her in tonight on a road in that direction. She saw an airplane out there.”
Marly’s heart skipped a few beats, excitement building. They might have a chance to escape yet.
The scuffle of footsteps on the gravel had all ten women freezing in place. Marly pressed a finger to her lips. Hiding one person wasn’t as big a deal as hiding a gaggle of females.
The bored guard walked past the gap between buildings where the women hid. Marly’s eyes narrowed. She recognized him as the one to punch Celeste in the belly so many times.
One of the younger women gasped.
Marly froze in a crouched position. If she had to, she’d attack. She prayed it didn’t come to that.
The guard paused halfway past the gap. As if in slow motion, he turned toward the women.
He didn’t have time to raise his weapon before Marly sprang forward and hit him in the gut like a linebacker going after the quarterback. The man fell to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs.
Marly straddled him, pinning his arms to the ground, his weapon trapped between them.
Celeste slapped her hand over his mouth and said something in Swahili. One of the women grabbed a knife from a scabbard on the man’s belt and slammed it into the man’s chest.
It all happened so fast, Marly didn’t have time to process what had just occurred. They’d killed a guard.
Holy hell. When the boss found out, he’d kill all of them.
Marly decided then and there that the boss couldn’t find out. Not until they were long gone from there and on their way to freedom.
“Grab an arm,” she said to Celeste. Together, they dragged the man into the abandoned building and left him in the deepest shadows. He wouldn’t be found until the next day, if that soon. He might rot before they discovered him from the smell. As far as Marly was concerned, he deserved to rot in hell. He’d nearly killed Celeste. The only man worse than him was the one who’d ordered him to hit defenseless Celeste.
Once the guard was stashed in the dark, Marly grabbed his rifle and peered out of the abandoned building, watching for any other movement. At the far end of the camp, close to the building she’d been interrogated in, lights came on and an engine fired up. It sounded like the diesel engine of a big truck. Men carried cages and crates to the trucks, loading them one at a time.
Nobody came in their direction. They appeared to be concentrating on loading the truck. Marly guessed they were loading the animals, ready to ship them off for sale. She wished she could help them, but first she had to get the women to safety. Then she’d come back with Pitbull and his team and kill every one of the murdering, stealing, human-trafficking bastards.
Now would be the time if they were going to make a run for it. The truck’s engine noise would mask the sound of the airplane engine starting up, buying them time to get away.
Marly motioned for the women to stay put. She ran to the corner of the next building, keeping to the shadows. With the lights shining at the other end of camp, hopefully the men would be night-blind and miss the movements of ten women escaping.
Marly shot a glance left and right. So far, the area was free of guards. She waved for the women to follow. When they were on their way toward her, she ran to the corner of the next building and the next until she stood at the edge of the village near the road the truck would have to travel to get out.
Two hundred yards away, gleaming silvery blue in the moonlight, stood Marly’s plane. Parked close beside it were two tanker trucks, presumably containing gasoline or diesel for the trucks. What were the chances they were filled with aviation fuel? Slim to none. She prayed there was enough fuel left to get the plane and ten women off the ground and to the nearest airport with available fuel.
She was about to make a run across the wide-open expanse when a four-wheel-drive vehicle pulled out of the village and parked near her plane.
“No, no, no,” she whispered.
“What?” Celeste moved up beside her.
“Please don’t take the plane,” she whispered.
Celeste’s breath caught on a gasp. “That is him.” She pointed toward the man getting out of the vehicle.
The boonie hat gave him away.
Marly’s blood boiled and she nearly shouted out to the man who’d orchestrated what was happening to them. He walked toward the plane and pulled the steps down.
“He can’t get away,” Marly said through gritted teeth. “Not in my plane. Not in anything.”
“He cannot be allowed to continue,” Celeste said.
Marly lifted the rifle to her shoulder. “I won’t let this happen.” She’d fired rifles before, but never something like the one she’d pilfered from the dead guard. At two hundred yards, she doubted she’d hit the man. But he couldn’t be allowed to get away. Lives were at risk. The futures of other women were hanging in the balance.
Knowing she’d never hit such a small target as a man at two hundred yards’ distance, she did the only other thing she could, fully understanding the ramifications if she succeeded.
Chapter Fourteen
The 160th Night Stalkers set down the helicopters on the other side of a hill, a couple miles from the exact coordinates they’d been given of the last known location of Marly’s plane. Two miles was a lot of ground to cover, but they couldn’t risk giving Marly’s captors a heads-up that they were on their way in.
With communications headsets on and M4A1 rifles locked and loaded, they scrambled out of the aircraft and hurried toward their destination.
Pitbull led the way, holding the GPS device with the coordinates keyed in. He didn’t slow for a moment, pushing harder and faster than he’d ever pushed
in his life. Lights ahead made him slow to a stop.
“Harm, cover me should anyone enter from outside this point,” he ordered.
Harm was the second-best shot on the team next to Pitbull. In reality, Pitbull should be covering for the rest of the team, but he had to go in and find Marly. He would be less than useless providing cover when his heart and soul were trapped somewhere inside the village in front of him.
Harm got in position and raised his rifle to his shoulder. “Got your six,” he said in Pitbull’s headset.
Pitbull waved to Buck and Big Jake. “Follow me.”
Big Jake motioned to the others. “Everyone else spread out on the perimeter and take out guards and sentries.”
The men fanned out, circling the compound while Pitbull headed in, Big Jake and Buck close behind. Once Pitbull reached the first building, he pushed open the door and entered, shining his penlight around an empty room. He exited and waved for Big Jake and Buck to make their move while Pitbull provided cover.
Big Jake and Buck hugged the shadows and moved to the next building, securing it before they gave Pitbull the thumbs-up.
Bright lights lit up the night outside a larger building ahead. A truck was positioned outside the structure, and men were hurriedly loaded boxes and crates into the back. The sounds of animals screaming and screeching added to a sense of chaos and desperation.
Big Jake squatted in the shadows, raised his rifle to his shoulder and waited.
Buck and Pitbull bounded forward, pushed past Big Jake’s position and moved on to the next building, a long mud-and-stick building with a thatched roof and doors lining the front. One by one, Pitbull and Buck checked inside each door. Pitbull almost missed it when he glanced in the last one on the end, but something caught his eye as he flashed his penlight around the room. Hanging from the corner ceiling was a bra. A pretty pink one, exactly like the one Marly had been wearing beneath her flight suit the day she’d pulled out her handgun.
“Buck,” Pitbull whispered into his headset. “Come see this.”
Buck entered the room behind him and shone his light at the pink bra stuck in the ceiling.
“See that hole in the thatch?” Pitbull chuckled and pointed his light at the corner where grooves had been scraped into the wall. He climbed halfway up the wall, snagged the bra and stuffed it into the cargo pocket in his pants. “She escaped.”
“That’s our Marly.” Buck backed out of the building. “But where to?”
“Knowing her, she’s going for her airplane. Anyone see a plane yet?”
“T-Mac here. We haven’t made it completely around the west perimeter yet. No sign of an airplane on my side.”
One of the other men reported in, “I’m only halfway around the east side. No sign of a plane yet.”
“We came in from the south,” Big Jake said. “Maybe it’s on the north.”
“Right,” Pitbull said. “We’re working our way around the interior.” He exited the hut and provided cover while Big Jake and Buck advanced this time. They were getting closer to the men loading crates and cages onto the trucks.
“We found the stolen animals,” Buck said. “They’re all babies and they’re loading them into the trucks.”
“Any sign of Marly?” Pitbull asked.
“No,” Big Jake said. “Covering.”
Pitbull hurried forward, hiding in the shadows a little ahead of where Big Jake and Buck were positioned. He was worried about Marly. If she’d escaped and been recaptured, they might have been harder on her. Maybe they put her in one of the cages being loaded onto the truck. Until they checked all the outer buildings, he couldn’t go there.
Though it frustrated him to no end, Pitbull continued the search. They cleared all the buildings except those nearest the trucks and the hive of activity. A smaller vehicle pulled away, heading to the north, away from the light and the truck.
By that time, they’d made a complete circle inside the village and were on the southeastern side, close to the trucks.
“Found your plane,” T-Mac said in Pitbull’s ear.
Pitbull was so elated, he nearly stepped out of the shadows. “Where?” he said past the knot in his chest.
“North end, a couple hundred yards from the village. There’s a road out here. That’s probably what they landed on.”
“How close are you?”
“Three hundred yards. It’s sitting out in the open.”
“Any lights on the inside? Anyone moving around it?”
“No lights, no movement. Wait. A vehicle just came out of the village. It’s stopping in front of the plane.”
Pitbull was already moving north.
“Pitbull, maintain situational awareness,” Big Jake warned him.
Pitbull slowed, realizing he was out in the open. Any person who was a decent shot could take him out with one bullet. Then they’d know they’d been infiltrated. His team would be at risk.
Pitbull pulled himself together and ducked back into the shadows, raised his weapon and waited for Big Jake and Buck to move.
Buck let Big Jake go ahead. “You all right?” Buck asked.
Pitbull gave Buck a thumbs-up. “Ready?”
Big Jake dropped to one knee and waited for Buck and Pitbull to bound ahead.
Just when he stepped out of the shadows, Pitbull heard a burst of gunfire. A moment later, an explosion ripped through the air.
“What the hell?” Pitbull stared to the north where a fireball rose into the sky, lighting the ground below.
With huts between him and the edge of the village, he couldn’t see where the fire was coming from.
“Damn,” a voice came across the mic. “We better hope Marly wasn’t headed for her plane.”
“Why?” Pitbull ditched protocol and started running toward the fireball. “Why, damn it?”
“The fireball?” T-Mac paused. “Was her plane.”
As if a giant fist slugged him in the gut, Pitbull stumbled and fell to his knees.
Buck raced up behind him and helped him to his feet. “She wasn’t in it.”
“How do you know?” Pitbull looked up at his friend. “She would have gone to her plane.”
“Maybe she was caught. Maybe she’s waiting for us to rescue her.” Buck dragged Pitbull toward the side of a building. “You can’t give up hope now.”
“That was her plane.” Pitbull shook his head. “She loved that plane.”
“Yeah, well, we have different problems now.” Buck jerked his head in the direction from which they’d come.
Pitbull glanced toward the lights and the trucks. The people who’d been loading the crates and cages were running in their direction.
“Look out, gang. All hell’s about to break loose,” Pitbull said into the mic.
“Hunker down and hold your fire. No one shoots until the first shot is fired,” Big Jake said.
The men running toward them were armed with rifles and machine guns.
Someone fired shots, and like a chain reaction, bullets flew.
Pitbull waited as long as he could, but when the men came within two yards of him, he opened fire. One of the advancing men fired at Pitbull, hitting the wall of the building behind him, barely missing his head.
Big Jake took the enemy out with one shot to the forehead.
When they saw their buddies dropping, the men in the rear turned around and ran in the other direction, climbing into whatever smaller, faster vehicle they could find. Moments later, the night grew silent but for the sound of engines fading into the distance.
“Perimeter check,” Big Jake said.
“All clear.”
“Bring it in. Go door to door,” Pitbull said, his voice dull, his heart no longer into the mission. He stared at the flames leaping into the sky.
“Is that a fuel truck next to the plane?” Bu
ck pointed at a vehicle as the tires caught fire.
“Holy crap!” Pitbull exclaimed.
At that moment, the tanker truck exploded, knocking Pitbull back on his heels. His head reverberated from the concussion, and he couldn’t hear past the ringing in his ears.
“No sign of Marly in the big truck or any of the crates or cages on board,” T-Mac reported in.
Pitbull could barely hear through the roar in his head.
“Buildings are empty. Everyone left. No sign of Marly,” Diesel reported minutes later.
Pitbull pushed to his feet and stared at the wreckage. “Marly, baby. I’m sorry. I should have been there for you.”
Buck came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He spoke slowly and clearly. “She wasn’t in the plane.”
“But she was here.” He pulled the pink bra from his back pocket. “She was here.”
“But she’s not here now.” Buck nodded toward the plane. “And she wasn’t in the plane. You have to believe that.”
“I never should have let her go back for her logbook. It could have waited.” Pitbull shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Marly. I wish I had never let you out of my sight.”
* * *
MARLY HAD PULLED the trigger, determined to keep the boss from getting away with all the atrocities he’d committed. She had no idea how long his operation had been in business, or how many women he’d sold into slavery. All she knew was he couldn’t be allowed to continue.
She aimed the rifle at the man and shifted to the fuel truck closest to the plane.
“Tell the women to duck and hold their ears,” she warned Celeste.
Celeste translated and lay down with her face to the ground, her hands over her ears. The other ladies followed suit.
“Sorry, baby,” Marly said to her plane and pulled the trigger, holding it long enough to release a burst of bullets. Seconds later, the world rocked with the explosion. She was knocked backward, where she hit her head on a tree and passed out.
How long she lay in the dark, she didn’t know. When she came to, she sat up. Her ears rang and her head hurt. A ball of fire rose from what was left of her plane and the fuel truck. Her heart hurt, but she couldn’t regret her decision.
