Her Man Flint

by Jerri Drennen

  Flint was taken aback. “Did you just call me an asshole?” He raised his hand and was about to hit him when a pair of headlights drew him to the road.

  “Get down.” Flint pulled on Billy’s shoulder, and watched as the lights drew closer.

  “It could be Robert. But then, it might not be.”

  Relief flooded Flint when a green Jag pulled up next to Billy’s car.

  “Damn. I’ve got to get out of the DNS.” Billy clutched his chest. “It’s bad for my heart.”

  Flint walked over to his uncle’s car and waited for him to open the door.

  Robert climbed out and frowned. “You look like hell, boy.”

  “Why couldn’t I get you on your cell phone earlier?” Flint hoped Robert could distinguish the anger in his tone.

  “Because, where I went, I didn’t think I needed any interruptions.”

  Flint studied his uncle’s face. “Who the hell were you meeting?”

  Robert shrugged. “An old friend of mine who knows Hartford.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Did I say it was a he?” Robert glanced at Billy and winked.

  “What you’re saying is you’ve been in Denver with a woman?”

  “Yes. A woman who knows Hartford quite well.”

  Flint clenched his fists, frustrated with his uncle’s vague answers. “And how do you know her?”

  “Let’s just say Carrie and I go way back.”

  Flint wondered what he meant by that. “How does this Carrie know Hartford?”

  “She entertains him now and then.”

  “Goddamnit, Robert. Will you quit hedging and get to the point. How does she entertain him?”

  Robert looked annoyed with him. “Carrie runs an escort service. He employs her and a few of her girls from time to time. Does that answer your question?”

  “How do you know her?” Flint asked bluntly.

  “Carrie calls me once in a while when she’s lonely.”

  “And when you met with her today, was she lonely?” Flint was angry, but found his uncle’s discomfort amusing. “Is that why you didn’t need the distraction of your cell phone?”

  Robert cleared his throat. “Let’s just say Carrie found it hard to speak about Hartford until I relieved her of a little stress.”

  Flint tried hard to keep a straight face, but his lips twitched into a grin.

  “I guess I should thank you for your sacrifice. It takes a big man to use his body to gain information.”

  Robert growled. “It wasn’t like that. I told you Carrie and I go way back.”

  “So you’ve been using your body all along to get information. You whore, you.” Flint slapped him on the back, laughing with a newfound respect for his uncle and what he’d be willing to do to help in the retrieval of info.

  “That’s enough. You’ve had your little joke at my expense. Shouldn’t we be discussing how to get into the compound and get Adriana out before something happens to her, instead of belittling my methods for getting the goods on Hartford?”

  “You’re right. But I hope it wasn’t too much of a hardship for you.”

  “Flint, enough. Now have you come up with a plan to get in and out of the compound without getting us all killed?”

  “Last time Adriana and I were here, she created a diversion and I snuck in. We could try something like that again.”

  “Something’s going on down there,” Billy said, looking through Flint’s infrared goggles.

  “What?” Flint grabbed the glasses from him, and looked down at the house. Three black sedans and a white Limo were leaving. “They’re going somewhere.”

  Flint turned to Robert.

  “What do you think? We could probably get in now with half of Hartford’s men gone.”

  “I wonder why they’re all leaving at the same time. Doesn’t really make sense. But we do need to get in and see if we can’t find Adriana.” Robert rubbed at his chin.

  “Billy, wait here. If you see anything, let me know on this. Flint handed him a small handheld walkie-talkie and then wrapped a headset on and stuck it into his ear. He handed another set to Robert.

  “I’ll go to the left, you take the right side of the house and we’ll meet around the back. There’s a window there we can cut through to get inside.”

  “Sounds good. See you there.” Robert clipped the headset on and jumped down the embankment, on his way to the compound.

  “You see anything suspicious let me know,” Flint said to Billy, then grabbed his duffle bag and took off after Robert.

  He watched Robert slip past the gate and went off to the right, disappearing into the darkness.

  Anxious to get to Dray, he eased down the slope onto Hartford’s property. He stayed to the left, avoiding the house. He didn’t know why, but something didn’t feel right. It all seemed too easy. When he was halfway around the outside of house, Billy’s voice crackled into his earpiece.

  “Flint, do you read.” Billy’s tone sounded high-pitched. “I hate to tell you this, but I can see something coming up from behind you.”

  “What?” Flint whispered, then stopped when he heard rustling directly behind him. He turned. "Oh shit."

  Chapter Sixteen

  The first thing Flint saw was a pair of snarling white teeth. He knew with the slightest move, he’d be dog chow.

  “Nice doggy,” he said in a low, unthreatening voice, but the Doberman growled again, baring his sharp fangs further.

  What do I do now? If I reach for my gun, he’d have me before I was able to aim and fire. If I just stand here, he’ll eventually get tired of waiting and attack.

  Flint stood deathly still. Billy’s voice spoke through static in his earpiece.

  “Flint, what is it? I couldn’t make it out.”

  “Billy I can’t really talk, but call Robert and ask him to get his ass over here, pronto. Tell him it’s a matter of life or death—mine.”

  Flint swallowed hard, watching the animal. He could faintly hear Billy signal Robert and held his breath, praying that the large Pinscher in front of him would stay calm and not decide to rip him to shreds.

  His heart beat a frenzied rhythm as he waited for Robert to show up. What would happen when he did? Would he have to shoot the animal? If he could try to reach his bag, he could get to his tranquilizer gun and put the dog to sleep. That way he wouldn’t have to kill it, or alert the compound to their whereabouts.

  Leaves crunched from behind him and the dog lunged forward, knocking him to the ground, ripping at the sleeve of his black leather jacket. He maneuvered his arm out of the coat and grabbed for his bag, fumbling with the zipper.

  Robert materialized out of the darkness and came to his side.

  “Don’t shoot him, Robert. I have something I can put him to sleep with.” Flint tugged at the coat the dog was devouring, trying to keep the animal distracted.

  “Damn thing’s ruining my favorite coat.”

  Slamming the dart into the chamber of the gun, Flint fired. The projectile punctured the dog in the hindquarter, making the animal yelp and slowly drop to the ground.

  “Whew. That was a close one.” Flint looked over his shoulder at Robert.

  “Shall we?” Robert signaled to the back of the house.

  “After you.” Flint picked up his bag and threw the gun inside.

  Both men skirted the outside of the red stone house, and snuck to the back. Flint prayed there weren’t any other dogs patrolling the perimeter.

  They made their way to a window and peered inside. It looked like some kind of office. Flint reached in his bag and retrieved his glasscutter.

  He pressed the suction cup to the pane and turned it in a circular motion until the glass popped out, then stuck his hand inside and unlocked the window. Flint pushed the frame to the top and turned to Robert. He gestured for his uncle to go first. “Age before beauty.”

  “I believe its brains before brawn,” Robert corrected, climbing through the window.

  Flint snorte
d as he climbed in behind him.

  Inside, both stood still, listening for a sign of anyone close by. It was quiet—too quiet.

  They walked to the door and Flint eased it open, scanning the next room, but found no one.

  Both edged in to check the next room, finding it empty as well.

  “I’ll check upstairs.” Flint started up the steps. “You look around down here.”

  Ten minutes later, he descended the stairs, a very uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach.

  Robert met him at the bottom of the steps, looking about as concerned as Flint felt.

  “She’s not here. She must’ve been in one of those cars leaving earlier. Now what are we going to do?” Flint knew he had to find her, and soon. If he didn’t, Adriana would probably end up dead.

  “Let’s look around here and see if we can find out where Hartford could have been taking her.”

  They headed back into the office.

  Robert rummaged through the papers on his desk. Flint went to the computer to see what he could find there.

  A beeping noise had them turning. They watched as a fax came in.

  Both rushed to the machine to read what it said. It was from a Prince Sultan Bin Lenon from Saudi Arabia.

  The fax read: Mr. Hartford. I have received your request, and am looking forward to the gift. I will enjoy sampling it as soon as it arrives. The excavation is slow and tedious. I will keep you informed on the progress. Sincerely, Sultan Lenon.

  Flint looked to Robert for answers. “What the hell does this mean?”

  Robert shrugged. “I have no clue.”

  “You don’t think this so-called gift could be Adriana. I have this bad feeling. I wouldn’t put it past Hartford to do something so low.”

  “Have you ever heard of this Prince Lenon?” Robert asked.

  “No, never, but I know someone who might. Bryce Vale is stationed in the area. Let’s get out of here, and I’ll call him from my cell and see what I can find out about this Sultan character. If I have to fly to Saudi Arabia, I will."

  Flint headed for the window, his stomach all in knots.

  “Wrong,” Robert said from behind him.

  Flint turned to him and frowned. “Wrong? How?”

  “WE will fly to Saudi Arabia.” Robert wrapped his arm around Flint’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Flint. I promise.”

  * * *

  Adriana eased an eye open slowly. Her head pounded an unappealing rhythm, shattering her brain. Why did it feel as though someone had taken an overloaded semi truck and run it repeatedly over her head? And why in the world did her mouth taste like salt and sandpaper?

  She tried to lift herself up, but a wave of dizziness stuck, sending her head spinning. Her stomach pitched and rolled.

  “Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and swallowed repeatedly, praying that what was in her stomach wouldn’t come up to torment her.

  What happened? What was the last thing she could remember?

  Ryan Hartford. That animal. Him, and a pin prick to her arm. They had to have injected something into her again.

  Her face flamed with anger.

  Images of an airplane, a Jeep, and white sand flashed like a flipbook in her mind. Had she been hallucinating?

  Adriana forced herself to stay calm, squinting to peer around her.

  It was hard to focus, but she strained to make out something—anything that could tell her where she was.

  Blinking, her eyes landed on a focal point, which turned out to be the large bed she was lying on, it’s coverings almost blinding to the eye. Every color of the rainbow was displayed in a wild pattern, causing her nausea to intensify. She had to be hallucinating.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid she was going to lose her lunch, and not at all looking forward to it.

  “I will not throw up, I will not throw up,” she repeated, over and over until she began to feel better.

  With resolve, she opened her eyes slowly, noting that a sheer netting draped the top of the bed, falling in cascades down all four sides.

  Adriana frowned, thinking it must be mosquito netting.

  Where the hell was she?

  She crawled over to the edge of the bed and pulled at the mesh fabric, trying to get out, but found no means of escape.

  Angry, she tried again, tearing frantically at the cloth. “What is this stuff made of? Teflon?”

  Finally giving up on tearing it, Adriana tugged upward. There had to be a bottom somewhere.

  She rolled it in her hands, continuing to work it up until she came to the end and threw it over her head. Then, she eased up and swayed forward, catching herself on the bedpost.

  Adriana looked around, not sure that what she saw was real. The structure looked like a huge tent, one made of heavy, gray canvas. Large colorful pillows covered most of the floor. A flap in front of her obviously led into another room.

  She took a couple steps and tripped over a pillow, landing on her chest in front of a pair of dark booted feet.

  Adriana looked up. Standing before her, holding the flap open with legs spread apart, and hand on hip was a tall, dark-skinned man with piercing brown eyes. Ebony hair peaking out beneath a wrapped cloth around his head. A turban. His clothing was strange. Middle easterner.

  The man stared at her as if she were some unwanted bug he’d like to squash under his boot heel.

  Adriana swallowed hard.

  “Do you think you are going somewhere, woman?” His eyes narrowed, and he sneered at her.

  “Could I use your powder room?” Her only thought was to get past that flap. She prayed Flint would find her soon. Then again, how could he know where she was when she didn’t?

  “What is this powder room you speak of? I have not heard of such a thing.”

  Adriana assumed he must be mentally challenged, and changed her tact. “Bathroom. Do … you… have… one?”

  He still looked confused.

  “I need to relieve myself. Do you have facilities?” She pulled herself off the floor.

  He turned his back to her, and walked to the bed. Beneath, he retrieved a large bowl, then returned to her.

  “Here.” He shoved it into her hands.

  “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Relieve yourself.” He turned to leave the room.

  “Okay…wait a minute. I’m not using this. I need porcelain.”

  “That…woman…is porcelain.”

  He pulled the flap opened and stepped out, a deep, robust laughter ringing out in his wake.

  Adriana threw the bowl at his retreating form and stomped her foot in frustration, stubbing her toe on something that sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  “I’ll get you for this, you beast.” Adriana hopped around on one foot, a colorful array of curse words leaving her pursed, dry lips.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Flint pressed a sequence of numbers on his cell, and waited for Bryce Vale to answer. “Please be there.”

  A feminine voice picked up, sounding as if he’d woke her up.

  Not sure he had the right number, Flint asked, “Is Bryce around?”

  “Bryce, sweetheart, it’s for you.” Flint heard her call in the background.

  “Hello,” Bryce’s deep voice peeled.

  “Yes, sweetheart, it’s Flint. I thought you’d planned to never get yourself tied down. Who’s the young lady who managed to snag you?” He couldn’t believe all the men who’d promised never to get ensnared seemed to all be falling in love.

  “Never. I met her last night. She offered to make me breakfast this morning if she could spend the night. How could I say no to that?”

  Flint laughed.

  “Same old Bryce. I need your help, buddy. Can you tell me anything about a Prince Lenon?”

  “Sure. He’s a very wealthy man. Oil, I believe. I’ve heard rumor he’s in Madain Salah, a remote area here in Saudi Arabia. He’s said to be doing some kind of ex
cavation. Maybe for more oil, I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m worried that Ryan Hartford might have sent Adriana to him. I found a fax from this guy and it sounded as if Hartford was sending him a gift. I think that gift is Adriana."

  “That wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve heard he has a harem of some of the most beautiful women from all over the world. He’s notorious for his collection. How did Hartford get a hold of her?” Bryce asked. “I find it hard to believe she’d just set back and let him capture her.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but Robert found her car on the side of the road and I knew he had her. Can you snoop around and see what you can find out for me. I’m going to catch a flight as soon as I can and I’ll call you when I hit Saudi soil.”

  “Sure thing, Flint. If she’s here, I’ll find out.”

  “Thanks, Bryce.”

  Flint hung up and looked at Robert.

  “Bryce’ll find out where she is. I’m confident about that. Can you call and get us on a flight.”

  Flint opened his bag and retrieved a stack of passports, leafing through them. He found the one he was looking for.

  “Register me under Clayton Stone.”

  “I’m on it.” Robert turned back to ask. “Is Billy going with us?”

  He nodded. “Definitely. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

  Flint’s cell phone rang, and he flipped it open.

  “Flint. It’s Bryce. I talked to a friend. A flight is due in tomorrow afternoon from the states with some cargo. It’s from Hartford to Lenon. I’ll be there to check it out. I’ll call you as soon as I find out what it is.”

  “You did great, buddy. Keep me posted.” Flint glanced at Robert.

  “Will do.”

  “There’s a shipment from Hartford due in tomorrow. Bryce said he’d be there when it arrives and find out what it is and where it’s going.”

  “Good man.” Robert nodded. “Now let’s get the hell on a flight and get Adriana back.”

  * * *

  Adriana struggled to get away from the guard. This was her third attempt at escape, to no avail, but she was determined to get out of the tent, or at least past the damn room. The angry guard tossed her onto the bed, a deep scowl etched on his dark face.