Wounded at Work

by Mitzi Pool Bridges

  “Nothing for you to worry about.” The guy came back into the room. “The boss said I could leave the light on in the bathroom.” And he put action to words.

  “Who screamed? Is the boss hurting her?” She tried to calm her nerves and found she couldn’t. The woman in distress was all she could think about.

  The guy came over to the bed and pushed her down to a sitting position. “Just a hysterical female. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry about her.”

  He was back at the door and when he opened it, there was silence. It was time to do a little begging. “Please let me go. What have I done to you or the boss? I don’t know any of you.”

  “It will all be over tonight. Until then, stay calm.”

  Before the door shut, there was another scream. Carrie’s fear escalated. She could taste it now. She had felt fear in Iraq when she had been hurt. But not like this. At least then, she had backup—others who fought beside her—helped her.

  Now she was isolated. Alone. Helpless.

  Not helpless, she told herself, as the man shut and locked the door. Just waiting for the right moment to use the skills she’d acquired since the day she left home. She’d vowed then to never be helpless again.

  Wild laughter spilled from her lips.

  Look at me. I’m trussed up like a Christmas turkey. If I scream, they’ll probably give me another shot to put me out. Tonight they promised this would all be over. So, am I going to die, or be sold to some dirty old man?

  No way! I’ll get out of this or die trying.

  She listened closely, but heard no more screams. Had they put the woman out or was the soundproofing that good? Drugs. Had to be. Just like they would give Carrie if she acted up. She could easily manipulate her body and get her hands back in front of her. Did she want to do it now? Yes.

  Lying back on the bed, she pulled her legs up, moved her arms under her butt and brought them to the front. She made sure the rope tying her feet was secure enough to fool the men, but easily loosened. Then, she took the water bottle sitting on the floor where the guy had left it and helped herself. Take that, you bastards.

  If she could only get out of these handcuffs.

  At least having light helped. She eyed the boards on the window. She could use one as a weapon. But could she get one loose enough to come off? She could try.

  Instead of taking the rope from her feet, she hopped to the window. At least if they came in, they wouldn’t see her untied. Three hops and she tried one of the boards. Tight. She pulled with all her strength, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried another; then another until she was sweating and her hands were scratched. But the boards held tight.

  Hopping around the bed, she headed for the bathroom. Six hops and she was there, washing her hands, putting water on her face to cool down.

  At least they had the A/C going. She couldn’t handle the heat. Hopping back to the bed, she tried to formulate a plan.

  How could she take out three guys with her hands cuffed?

  How could she take out three guys, period?

  There had to be a way.

  ****

  When Matt opened his eyes, Thor was staring into them. For a split second he didn’t want to think of Carrie: where she was—what they were doing to her. He blinked, got his head on straight, and stood.

  Thor barked.

  “I’ll bet you want out.”

  He pulled on his dress pants and shirt. The cowboy finery could wait. He found Doc at the kitchen table. Letting Thor out, he came over to sit beside her.

  “You didn’t sleep long.”

  “Long enough.” He picked up his new phone. Doc slid a paper toward him that had its number. One glance and it was memorized. He called Sam and gave him the info. “Let me know when they make contact.”

  Matt checked the phone camera. There were photos of several points of interest in the Houston area. “Thanks, Doc. That was smart.”

  “Here’s your billfold. I couldn’t do much with it. You wouldn’t want kids or a woman’s photo in it, so I was at a loss until I thought of this.

  She handed it to him.

  There were several pictures of the most beautiful horse he’d ever seen. Its sleek mahogany body looked like silk. Black circled his eyes with a spot of black on his nose. His mane was dark as well. “What breed is he?”

  “In case you’re questioned, you’d better study up on Arabian horses. They’re the most popular horse breed in the world, and one of the oldest. I figured a rich cowboy like yourself wouldn’t leave home without a photo of his favorite.”

  “You’re right. I had better give him a name.”

  “Give who a name?”

  Coop and Dirk staggered in. They looked like hell. Sometimes a little sleep was worse than no sleep. “My favorite horse.” He showed them the photo.

  “Slick Willy,” Dirk said and yawned. “Any coffee?”

  “Help yourself.”

  “That name will work. Only it’s a nickname. His real name is Flying William the Third.”

  Coop and Dirk laughed. “Figures.”

  Thor scratched at the back door and Matt went to let him in. “Did Lanie bring Thor’s food?”

  “What do you think? It’s in the utility room along with his bowls, his eye meds, and his favorite plastic bone.”

  Thor had developed an eye problem two years ago that required eye drops three times a day. The drops had saved his eye, but he couldn’t be sold to the military. The family hated that he had the disease, but were delighted to have Thor as a member of the family.

  Regardless of his made-up medical condition, Matt didn’t know if he would be allowed to take even a Service dog into the auction.

  “Do you know a jeweler? You have to wear a medical bracelet that designates your condition and you’re going to need it today.”

  “I know a couple, Doc. Give me a minute. He stepped out of the room to make a couple of calls. The first was to his boss who gave him the fake name he would use. The second was to a jeweler he knew. It didn’t take long until he was back. “Levi will have the bracelet ready in an hour. He wants to talk to you, Doc to make sure he gets the information correct. I gave him the name to put on it.”

  He handed Doc the phone.

  In seconds that problem was taken care of. “I’m going to feed Thor.”

  “And I’ll feed you guys. I bought a couple of rotisserie chickens, potato salad, and some greens for a salad. All I have to do is take it out of the fridge.” She handed out paper plates. “No point in washing dishes.”

  Thirty minutes later everyone, including Thor, was fed and it was time to pick up the bracelet. “What about the meds?”

  Doc handed him a prescription bottle. “It’s half-full of homeopathic calming pills. Wouldn’t hurt to take a few anyway. I know I will. Your guys at the FBI can print up a label.” She gave him a note with the name of the proper prescription.

  Matt kissed Doc on the cheek. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

  Tears filled her beautiful green eyes—eyes that reminded him of Carrie.

  He went back to the bedroom to put on his fancy cowboy duds. When he came out, the guys whistled. “Looking good, bro.”

  Doc handed him two packages of stick gum that he stuck in his pocket.

  Grabbing him around the waist, Doc hugged him tight. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised, patting her on the back. She and Carrie were close. This must be killing her. His first phone call when this was over, and Carrie was safe in his arms, would be to Doc.

  They left Doc’s house with Thor in their wake.

  Chapter Twenty

  The hands on the clock had never moved so slowly.

  Though Sam sent the slavers all the info they had asked for, and the FBI kept an open line to the computer guru, there had been no response. Matt was a nervous wreck. He took out the bottle of pills that now carried a label from a pharmacy in Odessa and read: take two Lamital capsules twice daily. His gold bracelet had Epilepsy, scrolled on it along
with his fake name and a phone number for contact info. The phone number went straight to the FBI, who would answer any questions. He popped two pills and hoped Doc was right about the calming effects.

  When he and his brothers had walked into the conference room, it was full of FBI agents. Led by Matt’s partner, Carl Sweeney, they were locked and loaded.

  Everyone was waiting. And everyone was impatient. They hoped to find not only the slavers, but also the person who had killed three beautiful, young women.

  There was no way to know where they were going or what they would find, but Matt’s gut was screaming that Carrie was going to be auctioned off that night and he had to be there.

  Thor sat in a corner watching the group. He was the only calm one in the room.

  “What if the slavers turn me down? What if they don’t allow me into the auction?”

  “They will,” the SAC assured Matt, as he passed him a laptop. “You’ll need this.”

  “I’m not as sure as you are.”

  “We set you up as a multi-billionaire. Do you think they would pass up the chance to have such a wealthy man bid on one of their girls? Your creds will hold up on inspection, so stop worrying. It’s not like you.”

  Matt took a deep breath to steady his nerves and opened the laptop. “Show me what you have.”

  “If the operation gets this far, here is how you make the fake transfer.”

  “Got it. What else is in here?”

  “A few aerial shots of a horse ranch out of Odessa and some of the nastiest pornography we could dig up.”

  “I hope no one else sees it.”

  “Sam downloaded it. He’s the only one who had the stomach to look this stuff up.”

  “Best thing we ever did was getting him to work for us.”

  “I agree.”

  “We don’t pay him enough.” Sam was in the business of solving problems that couldn’t be solved in the conventional way. He made millions with his Need Info You Can’t Find—Call Me business. Why would he want to give that up?

  Despite the chaos, his brothers stayed close, for which Matt was grateful.

  The SAC came over and bent down to Matt’s boot.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m attaching a tracker that looks like a ruby to each boot. If you get out of the car, we won’t know where you are without them.”

  “I’m hoping I’ll be able to drive straight to the auction.”

  “We can only hope.”

  The clock inched toward ten-thirty. Still no call. What if they skipped him and sold Carrie? What if he never saw her again?

  He was reaching for the bottle in his pocket again when his new cell phone rang. Matt waved for silence before he answered.

  “Leave this line open and go to your car.” The voice was garbled.

  The slaver. Matt’s heart trip-hammered as he scribbled the instructions given to him on a piece of paper and handed it to his partner. Coop and Dirk followed him to the car, Thor on their heels. The others weren’t too far behind. Not a word was said. Before Matt got behind the wheel of the SUV the FBI had provided, Coop and Dirk gave him a quick shoulder hug. Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out two sticks of gum, rolled them up and stuck one in each cheek. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  With Thor in the backseat, Matt settled down as best he could and started the motor. “Where to?”

  “Get on 610 and go toward the Galleria area. Let me know when you’re close.”

  “Will do.”

  In the rearview mirror, Matt saw Dirk’s pickup pull out behind him. They were anxious about the FBI plan. If Coop had his way, he would go in with guns blazing. Matt sent mental messages their way. Stay back and don’t screw this up.

  Ten minutes later, Matt spoke into the phone, “I’m coming up to the Post Oak exit.”

  “Take the exit and go to the two thousand block. You’ll see a New York Deli. Go in and order a sandwich. When you come out, a car and driver will be waiting.”

  “Look. I know you have to be cautious, but I intend to make a purchase tonight and I intend to take her with me when I leave. How do I do that without a car?” Matt put a low growl of anger in his voice.

  “We have it under control.”

  “Damnit.” His growl wasn’t faked. And hoped to hell the trackers worked. His brothers were close behind. Was the FBI? He could almost feel Sweeney’s anger. The FBI was in charge and if Matt’s brothers got in the way, all hell would break loose.

  He pulled into the deli’s parking area. Though it was late, they were still crowded. The slavers would know him from his photo, but he wouldn’t know them. He said a prayer, and letting Thor out of the backseat, went to the restaurant’s door where he told the canine to stay. Ten minutes later, Matt stepped outside, signaled Thor to follow him, and looked around. He didn’t see Dirk’s pickup, but knew his brothers. They were close. Headlights blinked twice. Was that his signal? There was only one way to find out. He walked over to the car, saw that it was a black Mercedes, and tapped on the window. “Sorry to bother you, are you looking for Nathan Payne?”

  “You brought a dog. That isn’t allowed.”

  Matt couldn’t see into the dark interior, but the guy wasn’t happy. “I would like to leave him behind myself, at times. But this dog can save my life. I can explain, but I don’t want to stand in the open to do it.”

  The driver’s side door opened. No interior lights. The man who got out wore a mask, but back here in the dark corner, no one would see.

  The guy held out his hand. “Cell phone and billfold.”

  Matt handed both to him. The guy removed the SIM chip from the phone and tossed it in the front seat where Matt saw his computer. How did the guy get in his SUV? He was dealing with pros and knowing that didn’t make him feel better. “Over here, closer to the car.”

  Matt did as he was told and the guy frisked him. “I have to make a call. Don’t move.”

  The conversation from this end was low and guttural. Finally, the guy said, “Get in the back.”

  Matt followed Thor into the backseat.

  “The boss doesn’t like this.”

  “Thor is harmless. To me, he’s a necessity. I am prone to epilepsy. Thor lets me know if a spell is coming on; I take a pill and that’s it. Once you get used to him, it isn’t so bad. He’s a good dog.”

  “Like I said,” the guy muttered. “The boss ain’t happy.” He shoved a blindfold at Matt. “Put this on. Whether you’re in or out is up to the boss.”

  “Is this really necessary?”

  “Afraid so.”

  Matt put the mask on, sat back, and the car moved out of the lot and onto Post Oak. It wasn’t long until they turned right on 610. Wherever they were going, they sure as hell didn’t want Matt to know. But he knew this town like the back of his hand. He settled back, gauged the miles, and ran a hand down Thor’s back. The dog edged close and put his head in Matt’s lap. For the next twenty minutes or so, the two of them didn’t move. But Matt was still counting. Whatever it took, he had to get in there and save Carrie. Thor could present a problem. If necessary, he would leave the dog outside.

  First, he had to get there.

  ****

  It was late. How late, Carrie didn’t know, but one of the guys had brought food twice. Though she couldn’t eat much, she managed to get a few bites down. She would need her strength to get out of here alive.

  The door opened. The smaller guy came in with a handful of clothes and a paper bag. Excitement swirled around him. Carrie’s blood ran cold. It was time. She had to do something now.

  He came to the bed and held out the clothes. “Time to take a shower and get dressed.”

  “And if I prefer not to?”

  “Then I’ll do it for you.”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Shower stuff. Makeup. Boss wants you to look your best.”

  “Where am I going? What are you going to do with me?”

  “I promise it won’t
be bad.” Chuckling, he came toward her.

  “Are you going to kill me?” He wasn’t. She was to be sold, just like Matt suspected had happened to his two victims. Where are you, Matt? Do you have any idea I’m missing? That we may never see each other again?

  Her heart hurt as the man pulled her to her feet and took off her handcuffs, bent and untied the rope at her feet. “You may be agile enough to get those cuffs in front, but you won’t accomplish a thing. Just don’t get cocky, and don’t fight me. It won’t go well if you do.”

  Carrie had to restrain herself. She wanted to take him. Wait, her gut told her. She held back. “How long do I have? Sometimes I take hours to get ready.”

  “You don’t have hours. More like thirty minutes.”

  “That isn’t long enough.”

  “Make it happen. The boss is already upset with you.”

  He’ll be more than upset when I take him down. She marched to the bathroom door. “You’re not going to watch, are you?”

  “I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Be dressed and ready.”

  Carrie turned on the shower, stripped off her biker duds, and stepped in. It was the fastest shower on record. In less than ten minutes, she was out, had her makeup on, and had combed back her hair. With no hair dryer, it was the best she could do. She yanked up the wad of clothes she had thrown on the floor when she entered the bathroom. It was a white toga-like dress, the material transparent. She prayed it would hide her scars. If the boss saw them, she wouldn’t be surprised if he took out his gun and shot her.

  No underwear. Bastards. She put on the thong she’d had on. Quickly, she examined the toga. One arm would be exposed, the other covered. Which was which? Trembling fingers finally figured it out and she slid the toga on. She wanted to cry in relief as her left arm was covered just enough to keep the scars from being seen, at least if you didn’t look too close. The material was way too sheer. And it was too long. It would interfere with her movements. She couldn’t have that. Being able to use her martial arts skills was paramount. What to do?

  She picked up the skirt and with her teeth chewed through the hem. Then she pulled the material slowly, splitting the toga up the side, then across the front, until the excess material fell away. Instead of a long, flowing toga, she was now wearing a short mini-skirted one. She wished for a mirror, tossed her head. At least her legs were free, and her left arm as covered as it was going to get.