by Taylor Lee
“We all know what happened wasn’t consensual. According to Ian, Mia’s father insisted that she’d been raped and was determined to get Torres transferred to an adult prison. Unfortunately, the bastard was underage, if barely, and Mia’s persistent assertion that she willingly had sex with him tied the authorities’ hands. I know Ian worked steadily for a year trying to get Mia to change her testimony, but she wouldn’t. From some of the things she’s said and her profound guilt about her parent’s deaths, there’s no question in my mind that Torres threatened to kill her parents if she ever came forward.”
Gray grunted wearily and shook his head.
“The fucking irony is that both Takima and Elena were killed as a direct result of the kidnapping.” He added, his voice dropping dangerously low, “Torres killed them as surely as if he put a bullet in their heads. You can be sure that that hideous irony is why Topaz has spent fifteen years planning her revenge.”
Seeing Jase’s troubled expression, Gray took him on.
“I know what you’re thinking, man. We’re all familiar with the Stockholm Syndrome. And, yeah, it’s a fair question to ask whether Topaz/Mia might succumb to the ‘charms’ of the very persuasive asshole who happened to be her first lover. I use that term advisedly, knowing that no kidnapped victim willingly gives herself to the fucking asshole that kidnapped her at gunpoint.” He added with a disparaging grunt, “I’ll admit I’m a cocky son of a bitch. But as only the second lover in Topaz’s troubled life, I can assure you, she would never respond to me the way that she has if she felt anything except rage toward Torres.”
Jase was quiet for a long moment then took a slug of his bourbon. He pinned Gray with a hard gaze and shrugged. “Hope to hell you’re right, man.”
Noah nodded in agreement, worry contorting his brow. “Ditto, Dude. I’m also hopin’ you’re right—with every fiber of my being.”
Chapter 21
Topaz settled back in the plush leather armchair and closed her eyes. Except for the soft hum droning in her ears, one would never guess they were in a twenty-five-passenger, luxury jet winging across the South Pacific. For a dreamy moment, Topaz pretended that she and Gray were flying to a remote island for a glorious two week vacation. Of course, any two weeks with the masterful man sitting beside her, his hand resting on her knee, would be paradise no matter where they were—except for where they were actually going.
Taking a deep breath, Topaz opened her eyes and gazed at the ocean below. She knew they would land all too soon and she would come face to face with her nemesis. She was determined to take advantage of the next few moments of peace before one of her worst nightmares became a reality.
Pushing the haunting images of Dante Torres to the recesses of her mind, she reviewed the last couple of hours. When the luxury jet had come to a stop on the runway and the doors opened Topaz was relieved to see that Torres was not among the cadre of men who emerged. His absence was hardly a surprise. She remembered that, even as a teenage gangbanger strutting along the dirty ‘essj’ streets, Dante had loved making an entrance. She knew from past experience that he would never allow the indignity of meeting her as but one man in a group of men. No, when Dante did arrive, it would be an entrance worthy of the megalomaniac she now knew him to be.
The men who did emerge from the plane made no attempt to hide their occupation. This was no mere welcoming committee sent to greet honored guests who’d been invited to join their master at his idyllic retreat. No, the men who marched down the gangway were heavily armed bodyguards. The high end weaponry they sported as well as their large, muscled bodies confirmed that Dante Torres was well protected. All of the men were dressed in matching black trousers and short sleeved, black dress shirts. The uniform shirts were the only concession to the muggy tropical heat surrounding them. Their swarthy skin tones and cropped black hair confirmed that their ethnicity likely mirrored that of their boss, with some Asian representatives thrown in. Even if they weren’t all wearing similar dark glasses that masked their eyes, it was clear there weren’t any out-and-out Caucasians in the group.
The eight men who poured out of the plane separated into two groups at the bottom of the airplane steps. A moment later, another man appeared in the plane’s doorway. Unlike the tall, brawny men waiting at attention at the bottom of the steps, the man who walked down the staircase was shorter, leaner. His thick black hair was cropped like the rest of the men, and he was also brown-skinned. Unlike the other men, he didn’t attempt to obscure his identity behind dark glasses. His slight smile as he approached would have been welcoming if it weren’t for his sharp-eyed gaze. That and his gait. As the slender man moved toward them, his lithe body glided smoothly across the tarmac, similar to a stealthy panther approaching his prey.
Gray murmured softly, “Eskrima.”
Jase grunted in response from behind them, “Right on, Dude. FMA, if I’ve ever seen one.”
From her study of martial arts, Topaz knew they were referring to the Filipino fighters who practiced the deadly style of martial arts called Eskrima. During WWII, the U. S. military began training some of their most elite forces in the ancient art that relied on ten inch blades, arm length rattan sticks, plus open hand fighting to subdue their opponents. According to the masters she’d worked with, Topaz knew that devastation and/or death were the only acceptable conclusions to an Eskrima match.
The flinty-eyed man approached their group and quickly focused on Gray. He extended his hand and said in an even tone, “Colonel Webb, I presume. My name is Lee Dakila.”
Gray nodded and shook his hand.
“You presume correctly.”
Before he could introduce the rest of the group, Dakila turned to Topaz. His eyes widened and his smile softened. He reached for her hand and bowed slightly.
“Ahh, and you must be Mia Kobayashi. Welcome, Madam. Or as we say in Tagalog, the native Filipino language: ‘Maligayang pagdating.’ ”
His smile widened, displaying surprisingly evenly spaced, sparkling white teeth.
“I admit that is quite a mouthful for such a simple word in English.”
Topaz smiled and said in return, “Salamat sa inyo. Ako ay nalulugod na makilala ka.”
The Filipino man started, clearly surprised.
“Madam, you speak Filipino? I am truly surprised and impressed. I cannot remember when one of our guests spoke my native language.”
Topaz kept her voice light.
“Languages fascinate me. They help me understand different cultures, even those I do not know well. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Dakila.”
As she spoke Topaz eased her hand from Dakila’s and reached instead for Gray’s arm. Dakila nodded signifying that he understood her measured response and her obvious reliance on the tall, blond haired man beside her.
“Please, Madam. Call me Lee.”
Topaz smiled graciously and said, “Only if you will call me Mia.”
Gray tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and turned to his partners standing behind them.
“As you apparently know who we are, allow me to formally introduce you to our team. My colleagues are Noah Walker, Jase Malone and I believe you may already know Ian Ross, Mia’s uncle. All of them are retired U.S. Army colonels like myself.”
He turned to Sapphire and Ruby who were standing behind the men.
“It’s my pleasure to introduce our lovely companions, Gabriella Shaw and Chloe Harper, who are friends of Mia’s. Like the rest of us, except for Mia, Ms. Shaw and Ms. Harper are retired military.”
Dakila bowed to both women.
“It is my honor.” He added with a slight smile, “Although, I must admit, when I think of Army ‘grunts’ as I believe you refer to yourselves, they do not look like you two beautiful women.” Speaking directly to Sapphire and Ruby he said, “I trust you have well developed skills to ward off the attention you are sure to receive from the men at our compound.” He glanced at the four men who were all regarding him coolly, and added, “Although y
our companions seem more than capable of defending your honor.”
Gray shot him a casual grin and said, “You can be sure of that, Lee. Although I should warn you, we ‘grunts’ learned a long time ago that you don’t mess with women soldiers, even retired ones like these two.” He nodded to the men standing at a distance who hadn’t bothered to hide their interest in the three women. “These women are positively scary if anyone is foolish enough to rile them. In fact, if anything, they protect us rather than the other way around.”
Dakila gave Gray a tight-lipped smile then gestured toward the BD 700 Global Express.
“Please, if you would be so good as to follow me. Señor Torres is eager to greet you all, particularly you, Mia. I understand that you have not seen each other for more than fifteen years.”
Topaz couldn’t suppress her startled gasp at Dakila’s blatant reference to the kidnapping. When a smug knowing expression flitted across his serene face, she knew he’d purposefully intended to shock her.
Without speaking further, Dakila turned on his heel and strode toward the plane ignoring the sullen men guarding the entrance who looked at the ground as he passed.
~~~
The interior of the plane was as extraordinary as its impressive exterior led them to expect. Rather than a narrow aisle separating rows of seats, the interior resembled the sitting room of an upscale gentlemen’s club. As Dakila motioned for them to enter, Gray stood aside allowing Topaz to go first, followed by Ruby and Sapphire.
Dakila assumed the role of host and spoke in his cultured, accented voice. “I don’t know if you are familiar with the BD 700 Global Express jet, although Señor Torres has of course upgraded the interior of this plane to meet his exacting standards. In addition to this comfortable living room, the Señor added another smaller sitting room, as well as private sleeping quarters and a full kitchen plus two bathrooms.” He motioned to the plush arm chairs positioned around a large wooden table. “Please be seated. There are enough seats to allow all of you to sit comfortably in this area. It is the most spacious.”
After the women were seated, Gray and the other men joined them. Ian sat on one side of Topaz, Gray claimed the chair on her other side. Gray had seen her shocked response to Dakila’s reference to the kidnapping. It reminded him that as confident as she seemed, Topaz was fragile and that he shouldn’t underestimate how supremely daunting the meeting with Torres was likely to be.
Dakila waited until they all were seated then spoke into a microphone that Gray had spotted in the sleeve of the dapper man’s shirt. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, except by agents who were all wearing similar well-hidden devices.
“Please bring our guests refreshments.” He met Gray’s eyes and said pleasantly, “We have a full bar. Do you and your friends have a preference?”
Gray chucked. “We’re all equal opportunity drinkers, the higher the proof the better. Any single malt scotches you have will be well received.”
Dakila spoke into his mic in Tagalog but to Gray’s pleasure the name ‘Bunnahabhain’ was unmistakable. Their host turned to the women and asked, “Do you lovely ladies have a preference?”
Ruby laughed her luscious tinkling laugh and winked at Dakila. “My girlfriends prefer wine, preferably white wine, but you can bring me the Bunnahabhain you are bringing the boys.”
As Dakila bowed low, a grin quirked the corner of his lip. He said, “But of course, Madam.” He added with an approving nod, “An excellent choice of spirits—for a spirited young lady.”
Eyeing Dakila sternly, Ian spoke for the first time.
“My niece prefers a substantial white wine. Do you have a 2008 Didier Dagueneau Silex Sauvignon Blanc or a Sancerre from the same region? If not, I’m sure she would enjoy a comparable wine from the Loire Valley.”
Gray shot his mentor a warning glance. He’d known it would be challenging for Ian to resist taking charge of the op, particularly of Topaz. He gave Ian a break, knowing that Ian had seen his niece falter at Dakila’s veiled reference to the kidnapping—and, hell, Ian was nearly as vulnerable to those hideous memories as Topaz was.
Looking up, Gray saw Dakila’s shrewd gaze shift from Ian to himself. Knowing this was his chance to declare his leadership, he caught the Filipino’s eye and said with a soft smile, “Mr. Ross has challenging memories of his meeting with your boss fifteen years ago. As you might imagine, he was not pleased when Ms. Kobayashi insisted that she intended to renew her acquaintance with Dante Torres. I trust you understand and honor that, and will give Mia’s only living relative the respect that he deserves.”
Dakila nodded and then bowed slightly to Ian and said carefully, “But, of course. Mr. Ross is an internationally respected financier and known connoisseur of fine food and wine. We do not have either of the wines you requested, Sir, but I will call ahead to ensure that they are available for your dinner tonight. In the meantime will a Blanc Fume de Pouilly from the Upper Loire suffice for the lovely Mia?”
At Ian’s nod, Dakila rattled off a rapid staccato of orders in Tagalog to the servants who were standing expectantly in the doorway. Within minutes an array of fine cheeses, meats and tropical fruits arrived with two bottles of Bunnahabhain, and a bottle of chilled white wine. Dakila quickly uncorked the Fume and offered Ian a taste. Ian shook his head and nodded to Topaz and then to Sapphire. He spoke curtly.
“Mia and Gabriella will decide if the wine is pleasing. They’re the ones who will be drinking it, not me.”
Dakila acknowledged the rebuke with a slight nod, then offered both women a modicum of the wine in chilled glasses. Once they had all been served, Gray took control of the conversation. Motioning to the empty chair across from his, he spoke to Dakila.
“Will you join us?” Not waiting for an answer, he caught the attention of the servant hovering beside them. “Please bring Mr. Dakila a glass. I trust he likes fine scotch as much as we do.” He eyed Dakila. “Unless you prefer the wine?”
“No, by all means, the scotch. And, yes, I will be most pleased to join you.”
At that moment the roar of the powerful engines confirmed that the Global Express was airborne. Once all of the drinks had been poured by the attentive servants, Gray raised his glass in salute to their host and said with a cool grin, “Now, Sir, if you would be so kind. Please tell us where the hell we are going.”
Chapter 22
Dakila laughed aloud, a genuine laugh, and raised his glass to Gray. Topaz wasn’t surprised that her accomplished lover had won over the sophisticated man. After all, Gray captured everyone he met. His infectious grin and witty repartee, coupled with his blond-haired, blue-eyed, All-American looks disarmed the most hardened would-be antagonists. Seeing Dakila smile appreciatively at Gray, Topaz wondered if the Eskrima warrior would be as charmed when he saw the other side of the fierce warrior. The one who intended to kill Dakila’s boss in the most vicious way possible.
“Ah, Col. Webb, you know quite well where I’m taking you. Indeed, I would be surprised if you and your colleagues don’t know more about our destination than I do. But, if you will humor me, I’m pleased to play the role of tourist guide. It is my pleasure, given that we will soon land in one of the most beautiful places on this amazing earth of ours.”
At Gray’s gesture for him to continue, Dakila waved theatrically to the azure sea below.
“As you know, we are flying over the South Pacific Ocean on our way to Fiji—which, in my humble opinion, is the most beautiful country in the South Pacific. Fiji is an archipelago of more than 300 islands. The largest islands, Viti Levu and Vanua Levu, contain most of the population of Fiji. Every year thousands of visitors from across the globe come to Fiji seeking its beautiful beaches and rugged mountains. The islands offer every kind of sun-filled activities including surfing, deep sea diving, and mountain climbing.”
Dakila paused to sip on his drink then continued. “As lovely as the major islands are, Señor Torres prefers the seclusion of his private island which is an unnamed hidd
en jewel among jewels. As befitting my boss’s requirements for privacy, it is virtually impossible to land on his estate without permission. In addition to its walled off exterior, the Torres estate is set amidst coconut plantations, sandy beaches, turquoise lagoons, rich green mountains and breathtaking natural beauty. In my opinion, the estate is as close to the Garden of Eden as we unworthy human beings are likely to come.”
Dakila paused and smiled at Topaz. “Before you conclude that you are being spirited away to an isolated island in the middle of nowhere without the benefit of modern amenities, please remember that Señor Torres is an accomplished showman. He enjoys entertaining and has ensured that his guests have a cornucopia of activities to meet their most esoteric needs. In addition to two championship golf courses, five tennis courts, a regulation-sized soccer field and a world class shooting range, we have one of the most elegant spas in the South Pacific. Rest assured, Madam, individuals fortunate enough to be invited to Señor Torres’ island paradise are never disappointed.”
Topaz didn’t have to look at any of her colleagues to know that they were likely thinking the same thing that she was. In addition to all the amenities that Dakila ticked off, no doubt one of the most impressive of Torres’ “amenities” was likely the cemetery. She silently corrected herself, noting that it was unlikely that Dante would have anything as civilized as a burial ground. More likely his adversaries were dismembered and fed to the sharks for the entertainment of his unwholesome guests.
The gruesome thought sent a chill across her body, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Glad that Dakila had retreated to another part of the spacious plane, Topaz didn’t try to hide her sudden fear from Gray. She realized she couldn’t if she tried, when she glanced up and saw him gazing at her, concern filling his stormy blue eyes.
