by Daco
She threaded her fingers through his wayward dark curls, twirling his locks, lightly moaning.
“Let me take you there,” he said, reaching up to clasp his fingers tightly around her hard nipples.
She breathed hard, unable to speak.
He understood.
“I could stay here forever,” he breathed.
Unable to stop, Jordan quivered. Her body was no longer her own. Her hips thrust to the beat of his tongue until her song was played and she could stand it no more and exploded, releasing a heightened moan. “Ben,” she cried as she climaxed. “Oh my God.”
He looked up at her; his expression satisfied. “Everything’s all good.”
And as hard as it was to stop, she forced herself to rise up on her elbows. “About what, Ben? What do you mean?”
“Can you relax?” He tried urging her back down. “We’re not finished … not yet,” he said, smiling at her.
“No,” she resisted him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He rose up and moved toward her lips, pumping his hips hard against her so that she felt the full impact of his intentions.
“Ben, answer me.”
“I did exactly what you wanted.” He kissed her, then placed his hands around her hips. He was ready. He slid his erect member lower, deeper. With one thrust, he would be inside and halfway to heaven.
“What?”
“Okay, if you must know, I booked us a ticket home,” he finally admitted.
“You didn’t.” She sat up, disengaging herself from his heat.
“We leave in the morning.”
“Ben, Ben. Tell me you didn’t.” Panic suddenly coursed through her spine.
“It was as easy as a phone call.”
“Who did you call?”
“Oh, and the girl gets a ticket, too,” he added.
“No, no.” She slipped out from beneath him and hopped from the bed. She quickly began assembling any loose ends scattered around the room.
“What are you doing, Jordan?”
“Packing.” She faced him. “Which embassy did you call?”
“Swiss.”
She glanced at her watch. “You’re sure you talked to someone at the Swiss Embassy?”
“Yes.”
“When did you call? Right after I left the room?”
“Yes, but it’s cool. Everything will be okay,” he insisted.
“No, Ben. What you don’t realize is that you just put our lives at risk.”
“Jordan.”
“Who do you think monitors those calls?”
He looked at her askance.
“Especially calls made from a local hotel to an embassy for help?”
He straightened and looked at her perplexed, his erection now gone, but she continued to pack. “They can’t do that. Can they?”
“We’re not in America, Ben. This is Iran. Get dressed. Now!”
He fell silent.
“Come on,” she said. “We don’t have much time,” and she pulled him to his feet. “Your clothes are over there. Hurry.”
“Where are we going?”
“We have to relocate before it’s too late.”
Chapter 11
Jordan wanted to be mad, but she knew Ben had meant no harm.
“I’m sorry,” he kept repeating.
Not responding, she stopped at the door to the room, faced him, and said, “Listen to me.” When he started apologizing again, she said, “Be quiet.”
“Okay.”
She faced the door again and listened. There were footsteps in the hallway — not rushed, the pace was casual — which suggested the people were only hotel guests.
“Okay.”
She lifted her dress, checked the safety on her gun, and replaced it inside her strap.
She opened the door not an inch and slid a small angled spy mirror into the hallway. “It’s clear,” she said and walked out of the room. But two steps into the hallway, she stopped cold.
Footsteps pounded against the planks of the front staircase. More than two, fewer than five, most likely three men. She could take them, but not with Ben. He’d only get in the way. And now there wasn’t even enough time to make a break toward the back staircase.
He was a step behind her. The door was closing.
She reacted and threw her weight into him. She knocked him back inside the room and on his rump. Stumbling, but able to catch herself before the fall, she sprang forward and grabbed the door just before it slammed shut, then closed it without making a sound.
She signaled for him to be quiet.
She dropped belly to the floor and slipped the mirror underneath the door where she watched the first man arrive at the top of the landing. He immediately pounded on the door to the first room. The second man entered.
Jumping to her feet, she ran to the back window, threw the blinds back, and looked outside into the rear parking lot. A single lamppost illuminated the area. She held up the gun, aimed, and with one shot took out the light.
In a low voice she said to Ben, “I know you’re hurting, but we’ve got to scale down to the ground floor. Can you do it?”
“Yeah.”
“Grab the sheets. We’ve got to make a rope.”
From the hallway, a loud bang rattled. Jordan knew the Iranian authorities had just bashed in a door. They were searching every single room, leaving no stone unturned.
“Let me tie them together. If we don’t get this right, it won’t hold your weight,” she said as she began tying a series of knots down the first sheet. “You’ll have to go first.”
“You sure?”
“You’ll have to jump the last three or four feet, maybe more. There won’t be enough length. Do you think you can do that?”
“No problem.”
“As soon as you’re down, head east, that’s to the right. Don’t stop, no matter what. Do you understand?” She paused to tie another knot. “No matter what Ben, don’t stop. The Swiss Embassy is on this side of town. It’s not far. Go grab the travel guide.”
She worked furiously tying more knots through the length of the second sheet. He hurried to the table and returned with the booklet and a pen. Finishing a knot, she snatched the booklet from his hand and pored through it until she found the map. She ripped it out and circled the location of the Swiss Embassy.
“Here,” she said, handing it back. “Stay buried. Out of sight.”
“Jordan, I’m not leaving without you.”
“Shut up, Ben. It’s only a backup plan.”
“Get me that lamp,” she said, nodding to the desk. “Get the other one, too.”
He hurried across the room and returned with the lamps.
“Rip the cords out.”
A moment later, she tied the ends of the two sheets together. She slung the cords around her neck, leaving the ends dangling loose.
“Now what?” he asked and as soon as the words left his lips, they heard shouting in the hallway, then more banging on guestroom doors.
She glanced up at him. “Go turn on the shower. Full blast. Leave the bathroom door open.”
He did as told and then returned to her side.
“Open the window and shove the dresser in front of it.” When the rope was finished, she scooped up the bundle and leapt to her feet. “Get on top of the dresser now. Be ready to go.” She went to work to secure the sheet to the base of the chest with a knot and one of the cords. Then tossed the sheet out the window.
She scooped up her bag, wrapped it through both of her arms like a backpack and took hold of the sheet. “I’ll try to hold it as long as I can, but it may not hold. Okay, it’s time. Go.”
“Are you sure? You should go first.”
�
�Go.”
He braced his weight against the window frame and edged himself down as far as he could before grasping the sheet with his full weight.
Someone banged on the door to their room.
Jordan yelled, “I’m in the shower,” as she pulled the gun from her holster and aimed it at the door, while struggling to hold Ben’s weight.
The door burst open. Two armed men rushed the room.
Without waiting, she fired the first shot. She hit the forward man in the leg. When he fell, the second man took a shot at her, but she was ready and fired back.
The second man rolled inside the bathroom for cover.
She released her grip from the sheet, letting Ben’s full weight bear against it. The sheet shredded. He was prepared to jump, and let go, landing square.
Back in the room, the man in the bathroom grabbed his partner and yanked him out of shot range just as the third officer opened fire from the hallway.
Jordan ducked to the side of the dresser as she returned fire, then jumped inside the window frame, all the while ripping continuous fire at the men.
The man in the hallway took one in the shoulder, buying her a few extra seconds. Jordan stood and swung her body to the side of the window, slid the cord from around her neck, and hooked it on the drain pipe to the right of the window. In less than two seconds, she was descending the wall like a spider after prey.
Reaching bottom, she saw Ben waiting at the end of the building.
She jumped the last six feet to the ground, where she toppled and rolled, picked herself up, and began sprinting toward Ben.
Shots burst from the open window, spraying the night like lightning.
Rounding the corner, Jordan grabbed Ben’s hand without stopping and said, “This way.” Together they ran the length of the building, across the street, and into the yard of a neighboring house. It was dark inside, the yard unlit. No one was home.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
She didn’t answer him. There was no time to explain that she’d already scoped out the route just in case. The plan was simple: cut through yards until they reached the old lady’s house, nab her car, and take off.
A police siren roared. One of them was already on the move.
Jordan didn’t stop. They scurried through another yard and crossed another street. They ran the length of a driveway and zipped into a backyard. The next yard over was the old lady’s place, but there was something she hadn’t expected — a dog. She hadn’t seen him earlier.
Stopping next to a garden shed, Jordan spoke to Ben. “Wait here, I’m going to have a look.” She slipped off her bag and set it next to him.
“What are we doing here?” he asked.
“If anyone comes, get inside the shed.” She tried the door; it was unlocked. Before he argued, she ran. When she rounded the house through the neighboring lot, she saw a woman was sitting on the porch.
Jordan’s watch read 8:42 P.M. They needed that car. Surely a woman her age wouldn’t be up much longer.
A siren on a vehicle screamed a street over from their position. The dog howled.
Jordan raced back to Ben, glad the dog was more concerned with the siren than the two of them. “We have to lie in wait,” she told him.
“Shouldn’t we keep moving?” he asked. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve gone that far.”
“There’s a car inside that garage.” She pointed toward the house.
“Yeah, but there’s a dog over there.”
“And his owner is sitting on the front porch.”
“We’re gonna steal a car?” He sounded stupidly surprised.
“More like borrow it, okay?”
“Borrow?” he questioned. “As in asking?”
“I didn’t say I was going to ask permission.” She stared through the dark into his eyes.
“Let me guess, you cased the joint, found the car, and now you’re going to hotwire it.”
“Actually, the keys are inside it.”
“Good, that’s makes stealing just stealing, not breaking and entering.”
“Think of it sort of like sneaking out late at night and borrowing your dad’s car.”
He angled his head at her.
“What? You never snuck out?” she asked.
“I didn’t say that.” His tone was defensive.
“Okay, so you snuck out, but never stole your dad’s car?” she asked as she looked around. The dog was at the front of the house, still barking.
“What can I say,” he said and left it at that.
“If you didn’t want to get caught, all you had to do was just push the car down the street, pop the clutch, and you’d be good to go.”
“I never thought of that.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Jordan, you were some kind of bad girl.”
“Maybe a little.”
“For the record, I just want you to know, I’m good with that.”
“And for the record, I’m glad you can find humor at a time like this.”
“It’s better than being sucker-punched sideways and drunk drugged. Besides, I always wanted to live on the wild side: steal cars, shoot guns, whatever you criminals do.”
“We’re the good guys, Ben. It just doesn’t look that way at the moment.”
“Seriously?” He sounded incredulous.
The dog appeared at the back edge of the fence and began to bark and jump at the fence.
“Now what?”
Jordan started to rise.
“Don’t,” he said.
“What?”
“Don’t shoot him.”
“How about I break his leg? It’d be much more humane.”
A police vehicle raced down the street behind them, the lights flitted through the bare yard while the siren blared.
“Just don’t,” he stopped short.
She stared at him. “For the record, I like dogs, they like me. I plan on keeping it that way.”
The woman on the front porch called out to the wailing dog and without a speck of hesitation, the dog turned and raced toward the front of the house.
Within the hour, Jordan and Ben were joyriding in the borrowed vehicle down the streets of Tehran.
“Ben,” she spoke, breaking a moment of silence. She was about to give him the good news and the bad. “I know this is the last thing you want to hear … but … I’m dropping you off at the Swiss Embassy.”
“No,” he protested.
“It’s time for you to go home. You’ve been through enough.”
“No,” he tried again.
“Be reasonable, Ben.”
“No.”
“Look, I could make it real easy on you.”
“I’m staying with you.”
“Ben,” she said as she whipped her gun out and pointed it at him. “You’re going. One way or the other. Easy or not.”
“No, I’m not, Jordan.”
She returned the gun to the holster on her leg. “Why are you being so stubborn? It’s for your own good. Safety. Health. You know, everything that matters in life.”
“I didn’t come all this way to turn around. Not without you.”
“Don’t go romantic. In case you forgot, we broke up?”
“Broke up, made up,” he said.
She stopped the car across the street from the entrance to the Swiss Embassy. “If you ever cared about me, you’ll get out of this car now and walk straight through those gates.”
“I’m not getting out,” he said. “And don’t try the gun trick again.”
She stared at him. He was crazy not to go. Insane.
“And what about that young girl?” he said.
“We’ve been through all th
at.”
“No, Jordan. You’ve been through all that.”
“It’s impossible. There’s nothing I can do to help her.”
“Jordan, I don’t care what you’re mixed up in, you’re not leaving that girl behind. I’ll see to it myself.”
“Sweet, Ben, very sweet. In your condition, I really don’t see you wandering through the streets of Tehran, black-eyed, doped up, and delirious trying to find some girl in some hospital when you don’t know who she is or which hospital she’s in. And might I remind you, you are a wanted man with a price on your head.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
Before their argument came to a conclusion, a vehicle approached the entrance to the embassy and slowed.
“Get down! Now,” she cried.
“What?”
“Just do it.” She grabbed his head and pushed it down. “Stay down.”
She put the car in gear. There was no doubt the man in the car across the street noticed them as he pulled his car to a stop.
“Crap,” she muttered. He was definitely an Iranian officer in an unmarked vehicle.
“What?” Ben asked anxiously. “What?”
“Hang on,” she said without moving her lips.
Jordan pulled out into the street, doing her best to stay behind a stream of traffic, shadowing vehicles to her front and side.
With the traffic, the cop wasn’t able to make an immediate U-turn.
She turned onto a side street, cut her lights, and watched from the rearview mirror until she saw the police car continuing down the main thoroughfare.
“Can I get up yet?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I think we’re clear for the moment.” She released her hand from his head, put the car in gear, and started down the road.
Sitting upright, he rubbed his neck. “Where to now?”
“There’s not much choice, we’ve got to get out of town. But first, I’ve got to pull these plates.”
“You mean swap plates with another car?”
