“Kneel in front of me and acknowledge me as your Master.”
This was not what she expected. He wanted her to submit to him in her mind. That was something she would never do, no matter how long she lived here or what he forced upon her body. She stared levelly at him for a moment.
“No.”
He nodded as though he expected the refusal. She watched as he picked up the tray and brought it to his desk, where he settled himself in his chair and opened a newspaper. He glanced up only once when Laura’s stomach growled loudly, then returned to his reading. They all stood silently as he ate and read, and it wasn’t until he had eaten every bit that he folded the paper and put it down.
“Every day that you resist,” he stated without emotion, “means I will make life so much worse for you when you do give in. I’m a patient man. Eventually you’ll break. You all do. And then I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you choose to be on your knees, calling me Master, and begging to serve me, while I decide how much punishment you deserve.” He nodded to the guards, who yanked her around before she could reply and marched her out the door.
They dragged her back down the halls and stairs, until she arrived at her cell once more. A guard released the handcuffs, yanked the dress up and off of her, and slammed the door shut.
Her resolve crumbled. She sank down, hungrier than she could ever remember, and sobbed for a long time.
~ ~ ~
Nothing happened the rest of the day. No food arrived and there was no noise at all. She hurt everywhere—her hip, her head, her arm, her newly-pierced nipples, and most of all her heart. She cried for a while then made her way over to the faucet in the corner and rubbed cold water over her face to wash away the hot salty tears. There was no towel. She laid back down on her thin pallet and tried to sleep.
She thought about the brand. She twisted around to try to see the bandage but the brand was on the back of her butt cheek, low, almost where her butt joined her leg. No amount of twisting would let her see anything except a corner of the white gauze. She ran her fingers over it, wincing at the tenderness. Sergei—God rest his soul, she thought––had been right. Though it was quite painful, the deeper and more thorough branding hurt less than she’d expected, since the nerve endings had been destroyed. A third-degree burn. She wondered what mark she now bore on her body. She had no doubt it was a mark that showed this man had claimed her as his property. And thanks to Dan’s training, she thought bitterly, she was fully prepared for that role.
This was not supposed to happen! He had promised to protect her, to keep her out of DeLeo’s hands, and in the end, he’d been completely unable to do that. And along the way, Claire and Josh had both been shot. She hoped the rest of the women were safe, but as for her and Claire, it had been a clusterfuck. Some rescue. Her anger flared up and burned bright and she punched the pallet over and over and called him every foul name that she’d ever heard until at last the anger bled off and only exhaustion remained.
She knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She’d always sensed there was some deep division between him and his boss that he felt he had no choice but to go along with.
“I don’t agree with their plan,” he said more than once. “They’re so focused on the outcome they aren’t paying attention to what happens to those caught up in the middle.” And, “I’m worried that the unexpected will happen, and they’ve only prepared for what they expect.” He’d never elaborated, and usually changed the subject immediately.
Now that she knew what he was doing, she understood what he’d been talking about. He was an honorable man, caught between two unacceptable outcomes, and she knew he would probably spend the rest of his life wondering if he’d made the right choice.
She lay on the pallet, her mind in a continuous storm of torment and fear despite the exhaustion of her body. She wondered what would happen if Dan wasn’t able to find her. She knew she’d try to resist, but her time at The Farm told her that anyone’s ability to resist quailed in the face of pain and punishment. She shuddered at the mental picture of DeLeo climbing on top of her as she was being held down by someone else—his weight pressing her down till she couldn’t breathe, his bad breath making her choke, his dick invading her dry passages as she screamed in fear and pain.
Her mind switched to a memory of Dan doing the same thing during one of her ‘rape’ sessions. Master 2 had been holding her arms above her head. Dan had climbed on top of her, telling her he was going to fuck her whether she wanted it or not as he bit her nipples and she cried out in pain. But as he forced his way into her passage, he had met with little resistance. Her cunt had responded to the anticipated violation with a flood of juices. Just remembering that encounter caused the need to pulse inside of her. She shook it off. There was something dirty about remembering such an intimate moment with Dan, here in this hellhole.
Despite her resolve, her mind wandered back to the topic and she reluctantly decided to examine it. She’d taken him for granted all these years, she knew now. When he’d begged her to go away with him, everything started to fall into place. She knew that their childhood affection and adult friendship had somehow grown into love when she wasn’t looking. But there was more than just love. She struggled to understand. Dan had ‘raped’ her, for all intents and purposes, and that act of aggression made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt with another man. Submitting to him had been the single most exhilarating experience she’d ever had, despite the circumstances.
It hit her like a thunderclap. There was nothing in this world she wanted more than to kneel in front of Dan and call him Master, this time out of love. She wanted to obey him. She wanted him to correct her when she was disobedient. Much of what she felt still confused her because of the time she’d spent in a place where obedience was harshly enforced. But she wanted to find out. She wanted Dan to find her and rescue her and take her away so she could tell him that she knew who she was and what she wanted, and they could explore it together.
But she had to stay alive to do it. He’d be coming for her, she was sure.
~ ~ ~
“I’m sorry, Dan. I really am. But we can’t risk tainting the case if we let you talk to Harry Simpson by yourself. I promise we’ll ask him some questions in due time, as we question everyone connected to the case. We’re still looking for DeLeo. Believe me, this irritates us as much as you. The big fish got away, but we’ll get him eventually, I promise.”
Dan barely held back his growing rage. “The whole point,” he ground out the words between his teeth, “of prolonging the horror for these women was to get DeLeo. And now he’s escaped, with Laura, and you’re ready to write her off as an acceptable loss and pretend that you’ll find him eventually?”
“We got back every one of the other girls, Dan. You should be proud of what you did. We knew there might be a few who didn’t make it. I think we did pretty good.” Pearson actually looked pleased with himself and Dan almost climbed over the desk to choke the life out of the man. He took a deep breath instead. That wouldn’t help him.
“What now, sir?” he asked knowing the answer.
“A very long, very detailed debriefing session. You’ll have to tell us as much as you know about Agent Contaldo’s activities too, since he can’t. I need you in the conference room tomorrow morning at 7am. We’ve arranged for a hotel room for the next few days just a few blocks from here.”
“I’ll be there. But I won’t be saying anything.”
His boss looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“You can force me into the conference room, but you cannot compel me to talk. Nor can you predict what will come out of my mouth if I do talk. There will be many interested parties there, right? Parties who have a lot staked on the truth of the story I have to tell.”
His boss looked at him levelly. “Refusing to talk, or lying, will get you many years behind bars, son. Think about it. Seriously.”
“Nothing you can do to me behind bars will be as bad as what Laura is ex
periencing for whatever short time she has left to live. DeLeo will get tired of playing with her very quickly and dump her body in a river. Besides, being in jail will protect you, too. If she dies because you kept me from looking for her, I’ll be looking for you for the rest of your life, which I promise will also be a very short one.”
This time the pause was longer as the two men stared at each other. Finally, his boss picked up the phone and dialed a number. “This is Agent Pearson. Agent Westbury will be coming to visit Harry Simpson this afternoon. Please place Simpson in a private interrogation room with no viewing windows. Agent Westbury will be coming to interview him in private. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and looked at Dan. “You have two hours. Try not to leave too many marks.”
Chapter 30
In the end, it took little over an hour, a series of very specific threats, and a picture of the bloated remains of Marco pulled from the river to get Master 5—Harry—to roll on everything he knew. Marco had been free with the little information he knew, too stupid to realize how dangerous it was to share anything about his uncle with any of the other men. There weren’t a lot of details, but Dan gleaned a couple of names and a contact in another country.
This time Dan didn’t bother to ask permission to act. He made a couple of phone calls and arranged to meet his new off-the-record team within the hour at Murphy’s home. The free-lance tech guy who had been with him early this morning when they discovered Marco’s body was one of the best in the country. His personal collection of surveillance equipment was both bewildering and magnificent. He was also absolutely loyal to Dan and the other agents, though his loyalty to their bosses was definitely situational. He met Dan at the door of his run-down bungalow.
“I see you don’t spend your salary on housing,” Dan observed as they shook hands.
“As long as the roof doesn’t leak on my gear and the electricity works, the rest doesn’t matter. You look like hell, Dan. When was the last time you slept?”
“Sometime last year. I’ll be fine.” Dan didn’t bother to point out that Murphy had been up since yesterday, too. They didn’t have time to waste on sleeping. It had been just over twenty hours since Laura had disappeared.
“Sorry about Josh, man. Anyone call his mom?”
“She’s on her way up. Shit. Someone needs to meet her at the airport at five…”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll call Charlie. She’s not back in the field yet after her injury but she gets around pretty well. She’s restless as hell, and she’s good with families.”
Dan nodded. The other guys had already arrived—ten of the most professional and experienced agents Dan knew. They’d had each other’s backs many times and didn’t mind skirting the rules when it came to helping another agent. And they’d all gotten to know Josh since the operation had started. That alone would have called them to Dan’s side. They settled on the combination of a sagging and dirty sofa, lopsided wingback chair, a couple of metal folding chairs, and the floor.
Dan looked around. “Where’s Jones?”
They looked guiltily at each other. Anders spoke first. “Um, boss, well, he was here, but we took a vote and sent him home.”
Dan looked at them in confusion. “Why?”
“He has a three day old baby and his wife is still in the hospital.”
“Oh, shit. I had no idea. I’ve been out of the loop for way too long. Thanks. Anything else I should know about any of you?”
They all looked at Sinclair.
“Did you finally talk Cassie into marrying your sorry ass?”
Sinclair shrugged. “She finally said okay. We were in Vegas by that evening. I wasn’t going to let her change her mind.”
Dan walked over to the man and they clasped hands. “Congratulations. She okay with you being here?”
“When she found out it was for you and Josh, she pushed me out the door.”
Dan nodded his thanks and briefed them on what he knew. Murphy took over and started his magic. A few dozen lively discussions later, Dan’s eyes refused to cooperate any longer and he was fighting to keep them open. He hadn’t slept the night before the auction, either, so he was going on some fifty hours with little sleep, and his body finally mutinied.
~ ~ ~
“Dan, we got something.” Someone was shaking his shoulder. He snapped awake.
“Why the fuck did you let me sleep?” he glared at Anders. He looked around and saw he was lying on top of an assortment of rumpled sheets and blankets that didn’t smell too fresh.
“And how the hell did I get onto Murphy’s bed?” He rolled into a sitting position with his feet on the floor. Anders thrust a cup of coffee into his hand. Dan blew on it and took a sip, suspecting how hot it was, and the burn woke him up just like he hoped.
“Ow. Shit. What do you have?” He followed Anders back into the living room. A couple of the agents were lying on the floor, snoring. They’d all been part of the raid yesterday, and Dan had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who’d been up for a couple of days. Another couple of men sat on the floor with coffee in their hands.
“I was able to track their flight path. Do you know anything about airplane communications?” When Dan looked blank, Murphy laughed. “Didn’t think so. Okay, the very simple version: most planes have a system called ACARS that transmits data to and from the ground.”
Dan interrupted. “Like a transponder?”
Murphy shook his head. “Different systems. This system transmits and receives all kinds of data about the weather, the plane’s mechanical health, its speed and location, and other stuff. It gets the information from a satellite. Now the ACARS system, like the transponder, can be switched off. But even when it’s switched off, the satellite will ‘ping’ the airplane every so often, a kind of ‘are you still there?’ inquiry, and the plane will respond back with ‘Yes, I am’ even if there’s no data to exchange. Most pilots have no idea this is happening. I managed to hack into a US satellite, and then a Russian one, and found a nice straight line of pings across the Pacific and then Russia, almost all the way to the eastern border. Unfortunately, since the ping only happens every hour or so, we lost the plane after its last ping when it landed somewhere. Based on the direction, though, we narrowed the possibilities to four major airports and twenty-five minor airports on either side of the Russian, Estonian, and Latvian borders.”
He handed a sheet of paper to Dan. Since Latvia and Estonia were friendly with the U.S., that made Russia the likely spot. Apparently, Murphy agreed. He handed Dan another piece of paper.
“This is the closest airport in Latvia to the Russian border area we suspect him to be in, and possible routes into Russia that avoid the official crossings. I have a friend of a friend with the border guards. He’s doing some quiet sniffing around and will meet you as soon as you get there.”
Dan looked at him. “Shit, man. I’m glad you’re on our side. Thanks.” He clasped hands with Murphy and then turned to his team. “You guys understand that this is completely unsanctioned and against regulations? If anything goes wrong, there won’t be anyone official who’ll have your back. I understand if you want to back out now.”
Sinclair snorted. “Dan, we didn’t figure he’d taken her to some resort in the Bahamas. We all knew the risk before we arrived here.”
Dan nodded. “We’ll need to leave before they notice we didn’t show up for work tomorrow morning.”
Murphy handed him another sheaf of papers. Dan glanced down and realized they were boarding passes for a red-eye flight.
The computer genius grinned. “There’s ten people who are going to be a little late to something called the Eroticon Convention outside of London because somehow the airline overbooked their seats. I took the liberty of rebooking them on the next flight, in first class, and paid for the first night in their hotel to make up for the inconvenience.”
Dan chuckled. “Is that the kind of convention it sounds like it is?”
“It sure is, boss. It sure is.�
�
~ ~ ~
There was only silence in her cell for most of the next day, and then without warning she heard crying, followed by a loud yell, and then a faint sound of screaming. She huddled into the corner of her tiny cell, hands over her ears, but the sounds kept echoing around in her head long after they had ceased outside her cell. When she finally pulled her hands from her ears, her face was wet with tears and she felt for the first time that she might not survive this. Her future with Dan, the one thing that had held her together through the last month, might just have been an illusion. She grieved for their lost future, the home they might have created together. The kids they might have had. She’d helped a hundred babies into the world, but there would be no tiny baby placed on her own stomach. She lay on her pallet and cried while she whispered his name over and over.
No food had shown up. Eventually, she gathered herself together enough to yell until she was hoarse, desperate to know she hadn’t been forgotten. She tried to ignore the gnawing feeling, as though her insides were digesting themselves in a desperate attempt to consume something. She whispered to herself, she sang, she slept, but the absence of any noise made her feel she was losing her mind. She knew she wasn’t going to hold out forever without food but she was determined to fight as long as she could. When the little Asian lady appeared, Laura took the soap and rag without protest and washed herself.
“My name is Laura,” she whispered to the silent woman as she pointed to herself. “Laura.”
The woman’s eyes darted around before she looked at Laura again. “Jin,” she whispered back. Laura smiled at her and she gave a tentative smile back. That was the only connection Laura tried, though, because her mind was suddenly consumed by the thought of the food she was sure she was about to see. The guards dressed her, bound her hands, and led her to DeLeo’s office again.
Just as she thought, there was another meal there; this time it was a beef soup. The fragrance drifting through the air made Laura whimper and her stomach lock up.
A Captive of Fear and Desire Page 20
