Saving Olivia (Team Cereberus Book 1)

by Melissa Kay Clarke

  Cheesy's eyes widened, and he swallowed. His muscles bulged as he pulled on the wire-ties holding him to the rack bolted to the floor of Cowboy's garage. "The cops are gonna come looking for me."

  The door opened, and Hick stepped through. "Not here and not today they won't. However, they do want to talk to you about her disappearance. It seems you weren't as stealthy as you thought. There's an eyewitness who saw you following her on many occasions." He shrugged. "They are searching for you down near the border."

  "So what, that doesn't prove anything. I'll have you all brought up on wrongful imprisonment charges."

  Cowboy leaned in until his nose was less than two inches from Cheesy’s face. "I guess you didn't get the memo, jackass. We are Navy SEALs. We can make you disappear so fast, your own mother will second guess your existence. You see, the person in question is our brother's lady. That makes her our sister. He's not happy at the moment, and that makes us unhappy. He's already faced one review board for almost beating a man to death over hurting a stranger. How do you think he's going to respond to someone withholding information about his fiancé?"

  Cheesy slowly shifted to the left until he could see Bruiser leaning against the wall of the garage. He had taken out his Ka-bar and was flipping it into the air. Not taking his eyes off Cheesy, Bruiser watched the man, unblinking, as he caught the knife. Cheesy swallowed, making his Adam's apple bob nervously.

  "I've had enough," Bruiser snarled and lunged forward. Gripping the Ka-bar in his fist, he shoved Cowboy out of the way and grabbed Cheesy's shirt. "You don't know anything? Fine. I don't have the time to dick around with you. I've got to find my woman." He drew his fist with the blade back and gave a feral grin.

  "Shit!" Railroad yelled and lunged forward. "Bruise, man, you don't want to do this. What about your career?"

  "Screw the career. This prick knows where Olivia is. If he doesn't start talking, he’s gonna stop breathing."

  It took only one glance at the insane fury burning in Bruiser's eyes for the man to make the right decision. "She's at Treasures! Don't kill me!" Cheesy screamed at the top of his lungs as the strong stench of urine filled the room. "The warehouse two blocks over from the shipping yard. Precious Treasures. I swear! She's there!"

  Bruiser brought his fist forward and stopped the blade a quarter inch from Cheesy's eye.

  The pressure was too much for the man. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped in the chair.

  Bruiser straightened and resheathed his knife. The team broke out in applause.

  "Damn fine job, Bruise. You even had me scared there for a minute," Toad called out.

  "I was afraid he wouldn't go for it," Cowboy muttered.

  Finch laughed. "Nothing like a little 'good SEAL, bad SEAL' to get the creative juices flowing."

  "Meh." Hick shrugged. "I give the performance an eight out of ten. The execution was spot on, but the ending was predictable."

  "What you want to do with diaper baby here?" Railroad stood over the man with a frown on his face.

  "Leave him. We'll take care of him later. Right now, we need to get to Precious Treasures."

  Chapter 18

  Be soft, gentle, and docile.

  Those words tumbled around in Olivia's brain as she sat on the chaise lounge staring forward. She knew someone was watching her through the mirror. That had become evident when the lights suddenly brightened to blinding again, and soft music wafted through the room. It took every ounce of resolve she could muster to appear relaxed and pliable. She knew Bruiser was out there, somewhere, looking for her and she needed to give him time to find her. However, if the chance of escape presented itself, she wouldn't hesitate to take it herself. That meant not giving them a reason to drug her.

  The lights dimmed, and the music stopped. The door opened, drawing her attention. She watched as a man stepped through the doorway and into the room. He was tall, muscular and, in any other situation, appealing. His face was darkly tanned and though pleasant, contained a hardness that told her that she did not want to piss him off. He wore a suit that had obviously been tailored to fit and looked to be rather expensive. He looked familiar to her, although she couldn't place where she had seen him before. That made sense. After all, Jake said this man had seen her and impulsively decided he wanted her.

  He stood just inside the door for a moment then walked over to stand before her. Clasping his hands behind his back, he scrutinized her with an impassioned countenance. Under the heat of his unwavering stare, she fought the compulsion to lower her eyes. She may not have many choices at the moment, but that didn't mean she would cower submissively. Instead, she stiffened her back and glared back at him. He laughed.

  "There is the spirited girl that grabbed my attention at the airport," he quipped.

  The airport. Suddenly, it all became clear to her. The man who had offered to share a cab with him. This was the stranger who struck up a conversation with her when she was waiting on Bruiser to arrive to pick her up.

  "Ah, I see you remember me. Good." He studied her a moment more then turned toward the mirror and nodded. A moment later, Jake entered the room, followed by two large, muscle clad men.

  "You have delivered exactly as promised. I'm well pleased. She is exquisite, is she not?"

  Jake nodded enthusiastically. "She is lovely. I'm sure you will enjoy her."

  As the two men conversed about her as if she wasn't there, her anger flared to life. Rising slowly to her feet, she glared at the men. As if it were an afterthought, she tugged the bottom of her dress down from where it had ridden up around her thighs. The horrid thing was a bright yellow, form-fitting monstrosity she would never have picked for herself. She had almost balked at putting the ridiculous thing on, but something told her they would be just as happy with her parading around naked. The three-inch high black leather heels reminded her of the ones her mother wore when turning tricks. That memory had made her stomach turn in revulsion.

  "Excuse me."

  They ignored her as the conversation turned to something political. She reached out and grasped De Jääger's arm. Anger clouded his face, and he raised his hand, slamming it into her cheek with enough force to send her bouncing onto the chaise.

  "Learn your place, Olivia. You are a possession, a chattel for my enjoyment. You will not speak to nor touch me unless I tell you to do so first. That is your first lesson."

  The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth from where her teeth had sliced her bottom lip. The entire side of her face throbbed and pounded. She jumped back to her feet and glared at him. "Don't you ever lay a hand on me again."

  She saw the second blow coming and ducked. Unfortunately, this one caught her on the side of her temple, and her eye felt as if it were exploding. She hissed as he stood over her, his face red with barely controlled rage. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped his hands, and she saw spots of red. Her blood, if she wasn't mistaken. Turning her head to the side, she spat and grinned with satisfaction as a huge splatter of red marred the otherwise perfect cream of the expensive carpet.

  "That's twice. I don't like for my property to talk back to me. This will go much easier, Olivia, if you will comply. I purchased you as an addition to my collection. I prefer my possessions to be docile and unmarked." He narrowed his eyes at her. "It would be a pity to pay $150,000 only to have to destroy you."

  "Speaking of the fee," Jake interjected.

  De Jääger nodded toward one of the men standing in the doorway, holding a small case. It was passed over to Jake, who grinned broadly. "Always a pleasure, Meester."

  Olivia took advantage of the men's distraction. Slipping out of her shoes, she leaped to her feet and bolted out the door. She found herself in a small hallway that veered to the left. Without hesitation, she ran as fast as she could and emerged into a large circular room filled with plush chairs facing forward. Turning to the right, she sprinted around the perimeter. It only took moments before the second man caught her and held her in his arms.


  Olivia wasn't about to take this lying down. Instead, she instinctually recalled her Army training and fought back. Drawing her head forward, she slammed it back into the guard's face as her elbow jabbed him in the rib and her foot came down on his instep.

  Big mistake.

  Blinding, agonizing pain blazed through her head, and she almost vomited. She had forgotten about the concussion from her abduction. As luck would have it, she managed to catch the man's chin right where her head was damaged. The resulting pain brought her to her knees. Crap, that hurt.

  The thug picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Her upside down position made the blood rush to her head, increasing her discomfort. Had she eaten anything since her abduction, he would be wearing it down his back. As it was, she dry heaved instead.

  Olivia felt something heavy go around her ankles and realized she was being shackled. Balling her fist, she beat weakly on the back under her cheek. "Let me go," she shouted, but it only came out as a whisper. Good going, Olivia. You just made it easier for them to take you.

  She must have blacked out because the next time she was aware of her surroundings, she was pressed tightly in an elevator with De Jääger and what she assumed were his two bodyguards. Jake had her in his arms and was talking to his client.

  "If you want a box, I can have one brought up immediately," Jake spoke to the man next to him. "It's a part of the complimentary service for your patronage. As you requested, our corporate jet has been fueled and stocked with your favorites. It's waiting on a private runway."

  Meester De Jääger's voice was loud in the tiny space. "No, I don't think a box will be necessary. She seems docile enough at the moment. I am not happy about the damage to the back of her head, though. I suggest you have your associates trained on the proper handling of merchandise. If she has a concussion, it will be days before I can start her training." He huffed indignantly as the doors opened. "I hope you remembered to include a decent vintage. The swill I had on the commercial flight in was barely palatable."

  She felt cool, night air brush against her heated skin. She cracked one eye open. They appeared to be on the roof of a building. Without turning her head, she could make out a sea of lights spread out around. It was beautiful. Too bad she wouldn't see it again.

  A loud noise drew Olivia's attention. Fifty or so feet away, a helicopter sat upon a helipad, blades whirling. The man who had caught her, sat in the pilot's seat, fiddling with the controls. She watched as the second man climbed in beside him. A door opened, and she was placed on the seat and buckled in. Looking over, she saw Meester De Jääger, the man who now owned her, adjusting his buckles. He placed a set of earphones on his head as the door slammed closed. The noise of the helicopter was too loud to make out what was being said between the occupants of the vehicle. However, the one thing she heard was a voice as it yelled her name.

  "O-liv-i-a."

  Chapter 19

  Bruiser sat crouched in the shadows, staring up at the unremarkable facade of the five-story building across the street. The muted gray bricks were peeling in places and the sign over the door proclaiming "Precious Treasures Exports" had faded in the Southern California sun. There were no windows on the bottom floor, and the ones on the others were dark and dingy as if they had not been washed in a decade. The neighborhood consisted of similar buildings squatting darkly in the pre-midnight evening, but unlike the others, this one was brilliantly lit, surrounded by a fence and had a small guard shack at the entrance. The dull blue glow of a computer screen lit the occupant's face as his head lolled forward in sleep.

  "One guard. Thumbprint pad on the lock," Railroad muttered softly as he lowered the binoculars.

  Cowboy melted out of the shadows to their right. "The back cargo door has been welded shut. It'll take a helluva lot of noise to get through there."

  "Freight elevator on the east side," Hick whispered. "Thumbprint lock coupled with a code of eight digits. I can get in, but it's going to take some time. Twenty minutes minimum."

  Railroad lifted his chin toward the roof where the slowing blades of a helicopter could be seen. "We may not have twenty minutes," he countered. "No telling who that was, nor how long they will be here."

  "How we going to play it?" Toad grunted as he shifted.

  Bruiser considered all the factors and then nodded toward the front door. "That's the quickest. I'm with Railroad on this. The chopper throws an unknown into the equation. We need to get in there as soon as possible."

  Quietly, Cowboy and Railroad approached the guard while Bruiser and Hick advanced on the door. Cowboy threw an arm around the snoring guard, pulled him against his chest and covered his mouth with his hand. There was a grunt then the guard dropped quietly to the floor of the building.

  "Bring him over here. If his biometrics are in the database, it'll be quicker than me hacking it," Toad whispered.

  Luck was with them. When Cowboy pressed the guard's thumb to the pad, the door slid open with a shnick. Cowboy and Finch dragged him into a side room and deposited him on the floor. They secured the door with an old fashioned deadbolt.

  Railroad pulled up the schematics Digger had supplied on his cell phone and studied them. "These look like storage rooms. I'm betting this is just the front for their operations." He pointed to the right to an elevator stopped on the third floor. "That's where I'd look."

  Knowing the elevator moving would call attention to their presence, the team chose the stairs instead. Climbing to the third floor, Finch cracked the door and peered inside. With a hand signal indicating he was entering, he slipped through the door and against the wall. Checking out the room, he signaled for the others to enter.

  The room was a gathering area decorated like a club or bar. Several elegant chairs scattered around the space, each with an individual small round table placed beside it. Heavy brocade in shades of silver and black draped the walls. The floor underneath was marbled granite and polished to a high sheen.

  "What the hell is this place?" Toad looked around in confusion. "It looks like a private club."

  "Exclusive club," Bruiser hissed out. "Something tells me I'm not going to like this."

  "Reminds me of back home when I would go to the livestock auctions," Cowboy whispered. "There was a set up just like this for buyers and sellers to meet and talk merchandise. It was away from the main floor to give them some privacy in a more relaxed atmosphere. See the telephones on each table? They were directly connected to brokers on the sales floor." He pointed to the televisions mounted on the walls. "Closed circuit. Whatever they are selling, they wanted to be able to watch the main action while they talk."

  "Like the stock exchange." Railroad murmured. "But, what are they selling?"

  "Women," Finch growled. "They sell women here. This isn't just a simple kidnapping; it's a freaking human trafficking house." He tossed a thin book onto a table. "There's a stack of these behind the bar."

  Hick picked up the book and thumbed through it.”Each page showcases a woman complete with pictures and statistics. There are even psychiatric dossiers. Jesus," he swore softly. "Right here in San Diego, a freaking slave auction house." He handed the book to Railroad. "This was a sale last week. Ten girls including four under sixteen-years-old are gone, probably never to be seen again."

  The muffled sound of voices behind a wall to their left stopped the conversation. Swiftly, the team melted into shadows. Bruiser strained to hear what they were saying, but the words were too low. He tightened his grip on his sidearm and listened. The sound of a door opening and closing wafted through the wall and then only the sound of a slight hum.

  Letting out his breath, Bruiser searched the wall for access to the next room. Finally, he found a small, perfectly round hole behind the drapes. Pushing his finger inside, he felt a latch and pressed it. A door sprang open and admitted the men inside the next chamber.

  "What the ever lovin’ hell is that."

  Bruiser turned to where Toad was pointing. The room they stood in was ci
rcular and filled with more groupings of chairs and tables. As before, thick drapes hang from the ceiling, covering the walls and pooled on the black marble floor beneath. However, it was a glass wall on the interior that had taken Toad's attention.

  Bruiser could see several rooms, each like a box, backs to each other with a small hallway running between them. Each of the four glass boxes jutted out toward the room and contained a similar arrangement. In every one, a couch sat in a sea of thick carpeting with a small table nearby. Although themed a little differently, they were eerily the same. It reminded Bruiser of an aquarium. The growing alarm in his gut screamed at him.

  Darkness shrouded three of the boxes, but the fourth was brightly lit. A burgundy chaise sat in a sea of cream colored carpet. Bruiser's eyes were drawn to a spot next to the table where a splatter of dark red painted the leg. Even from here he could tell what it was. Blood.

  "It's a damn merchandise display area," Cowboy voice was tight. "The sons-of-bitches put the women on display in here so they can be properly shown."

  Blind fury slammed into Bruiser as he imagined Olivia confined to the tiny space. His fist tightened around the grip of his pistol, and he growled. He wanted to go back and choke the life out of Cheesy. He wanted to watch the man's eyeballs bulge out as the realization he was going to die dawned on him. He needed revenge for Olivia and for the countless number of women who had been subjected to the inhumane treatment of this twisted sideshow.

  "Hold it together, Bruise."

  Cowboy's words weren't welcomed, but they had the desired effect. Swallowing the bitterness of his rage, Bruiser gave a quick nod. He was in control. Barely.

  "She's not here," Hick murmured after they completed a circuit of the room.