But these men didn’t know that no one would be looking for her. She needed to convince them that she was someone worth keeping alive. That her nonexistent family back home would pay a lot of money for her.
Nervously, her gaze tracked over the area. If she did escape, there were plenty of places to hide. She’d be lost though.
The voices grew quieter as the other group of men moved away, and the leader of the men she was with resumed walking, moving aside dense brush.
“Keep moving,” the man behind her ordered, and she stumbled forward. She began to feel a little light-headed and swayed, catching herself on a branch before she fell over.
He muttered a curse. “She needs water! I’m not carrying her back.”
The leader turned around, his dark eyes boring into her. He muttered something in Arabic before switching to English. “Keep up!” he barked. “We’re almost there and not stopping now.” He spat on the ground, then turned around and began walking again.
Clarissa blinked, trying to remain focused. She was dehydrated and starting to feel dizzy. It couldn’t be that much farther. She could make it. She had to.
The man behind her grumbled and shoved his canteen into her hands. Gratefully, she took several gulps. What had happened to her supplies anyway? She had food and water in her backpack. Her passport and other documents. Had they left it with her guide back at the river?
She didn’t even know how to get back there if she wanted to.
Fifteen minutes later, they finally reached a small camping area in a clearing. Tents were spread out, and small huts lined part of the perimeter. Frowning, she watched as a Jeep pulled up to one and several men jumped out. They must be near a highway. There was no way any vehicles could travel through the rainforest.
“Move!” a man yelled, and she hustled forward, keeping her head down. Her eyes darted around surreptitiously, but she didn’t want to appear too interested. As far as these men were concerned, the less she knew, the better.
The fact that they were close to a road bode well for her though. If she could escape, she’d have a chance of reaching civilization.
She tried not to gasp in shock as she saw a small cache of weapons being unloaded from a vehicle into one of the huts. The open door showed an entire stockpile of chemical weapons inside. What on Earth was this place?
The man she was with shoved her into a tent, and she shook as he followed her inside. The tent had no bottom, just sides and a top, and she froze in horror as she saw a metal pole that had been dug into the ground. Grabbing some rope, the man roughly bound her wrists together. She whimpered and tried to pull back, but he grabbed her bicep and yanked her forward, tying her wrists to the pole. She could move a few feet in any direction, but she was otherwise trapped here. Captive.
Clarissa was tied up inside the tent like a dog on a chain.
Helplessly she watched as he turned and quickly strode out of the tent. Was he coming back for her? Would other men come and find her trapped her?
She pulled at the rope, feeling it bite into her wrists. The pole didn’t move at all, and she tried again, harder, only hurting herself in the process.
What was going to happen to her?
Would she be beaten or raped here? Tortured?
She frantically looked around as tears smarted her eyes. It was dim inside the tent right now thanks to the setting sun, but aside from the pole, there was nothing else here. No candles. No lanterns. When the sun went down later tonight, she’d be stuck here in complete darkness.
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She awkwardly lifted an arm, trying to wipe them away. Finally, she bent over toward her hands, able to swipe at the tears on her cheeks. She needed to toughen up. Be strong. What would they think if they came back in here and saw her crying?
Blowing out a sigh, she sank down to the ground. Briefly, she noticed the moss growing amongst the grass. It was slightly damp, and vaguely, she noted that the soil here was very nutrient-dense, just like the rest of the rainforest. The tents must have been pitched recently, given the condition of the ground. Lack of sunshine would eventually kill the grass.
She hadn’t even gotten to test her soil samples yet—she’d collected plant clippings and was testing the water and sediment near the river. Now even that work was ruined. Her samples from today were in her backpack, wherever that was.
And what did it matter now?
She had her life to worry about, not her research paper.
If she did somehow manage to escape, she could survive on the local fruits and berries in the rainforest. She’d be lost though—and her biggest problem would be running into more armed men. Even if she wouldn’t die of starvation after escaping, that didn’t mean something else wouldn’t kill her. Someone else.
Leaning over, she rested her head against the metal pole, trying to think.
Her head throbbed, and she was hungry and exhausted. There had to be a way out of this mess though.
There just had to be.
Chapter 5
BLAKE CROSSED HIS ARMS, looking at the satellite imagery on the massive TV screen as his team gathered in the conference room on base. His CO looked around the table at the men, and then pointed to the location on the map.
“There is where the camp is located. Our intelligence indicates there is a large cache of chemical weapons being moved through the jungles of Colombia. As you are aware, terror cells previously seen in the Middle East have taken hold in South America.”
“The FARC is disarmed, so another damn group sprung up?” Blake asked, raising his eyebrows.
The peace agreement with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, had brought an end to years of fighting in the South American country. All be damned if another group hadn’t taken advantage and claimed the turf as their own.
“It sure the hell seems that way,” Ethan drawled, looking at the next image that popped up.
“Affirmative,” their CO said. “Several groups formerly seen in the Middle East are now in the western hemisphere.”
The image changed, and an aerial view showed a convoy of vehicles moving along a Colombian highway. The zoomed-in detail on one shot showed what appeared to be chemical weapons stashed beneath a tarp in one of the trucks.
“Holy shit,” Troy muttered.
“That’s a hell of a lot of weapons,” Blake said, clenching his jaw.
The CO continued. “Sat imagery over the past few days shows movement along a highway near Bogota toward a location at the edge of this rainforest.”
A wider map again showed up on screen.
“It’s believed this is where the group is currently holed up. All operations are coming from here. This is a vast network, spanning from Colombia up to Mexico. Goods are then smuggled across the border and can be used on terror attacks against Americans.”
“Fuck that,” Troy spat out.
“What’s the plan?” Blake asked, leaning forward in his seat and resting his forearms on the table. He was itching for action, ready to fly in on a new op and disarm the enemy. The hell with anyone who tried to bring harm to this country.
His team had convened almost immediately when they’d gotten word from the CO, and after their briefing, they’d be wheels-up and on their way to Colombia.
Another high-ranking official walked into the room, and their CO stepped aside for a moment to confer with him.
Grayson leaned over toward Blake and spoke in a low voice. “I had to text Shawna and tell her our plans were off for the night.”
Blake smirked. “How’d she take it?”
Grayson lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t hear back. She’s working, so hopefully she’s not hella pissed. Not like we exactly have any choice in the matter. I’ll have to plan to pay her a visit when we’re back from this little rendezvous.”
“Unless she moves on to another sailor, lover boy,” Logan joked.
“Hell no. Not gonna happen. I left her more than satisfied last night. She’s definitely up for anot
her night with yours truly.”
“What about ‘out of sight, out of mind’?” Jackson said, raising his eyebrows.
“I gave her plenty to remember me by,” Grayson said smugly.
“This op won’t take that damn long,” Blake said. “We have the exact location; we know they’re not moving somewhere else since they’re offloading weapons from the trucks there. It’s a major staging point for their shady little operation. We move in, grab whatever asshole we’re after, and move out.”
Their CO walked back to the front of the room, and all heads swiveled to him. “Gentlemen, you’ll be wheel’s up at seventeen hundred. You’ll arrive under the cover of nightfall and stand by until twenty-three hundred tomorrow. The leader of this terror cell is your target—we want him captured alive for questioning.”
“And the weapons?” Ethan asked.
“Will be left for the Colombian government to dispose of. We’ll be taking the leader back to U.S. soil.”
The men exchanged a glance. Capturing targets alive usually meant they’d already been involved in other attacks and were wanted by the U.S. Government.
“Your assumptions are correct,” their CO said dryly. “He’s previously been involved in attacks on troops in Afghanistan. His target has shifted to U.S. soil. If we disrupt this operation, countless lives will be saved. They’ve been moving weapons up through Mexico to our border. We end this, and we cripple their entire operation.”
“Understood,” Blake said, his gaze narrowing as the man’s image appeared on the massive screen.
“Muhammad Abboud. He’s the ringleader and the one we’re after. He left his wives and children back in the Middle East to head this operation. His subordinates likely have intel we could use as well, but he’s the one we want.”
“We’ll bring that bastard in,” Logan said.
The CO nodded. “Additional background information and updated sat imagery will be provided to you en route. The Colombian military will be on standby to assist, but this is your operation. Infiltrate their camp, get Abboud, and bring him back. Dismissed.”
“Hoorah,” Blake said, standing up.
“Boom. Check this out, fellas,” Grayson said as they exited the conference room. Blake glanced at his buddy’s cell phone, noticing the picture of the waitress Shawna blowing him a kiss.
“She’s beautiful,” Blake said with a chuckle. “Not my type though.”
“She’s hot,” Troy said appreciatively.
“She said she’ll suck my—”
“Whoo-hoo!” Ethan whooped behind them. “She’s got it bad for you, Gray. Next time we all go out, she better bring along some more of her waitress friends.”
Shaking his head, Blake moved down the hallway away from his team to grab his gear. They had work to do. A mission to go on. And he wasn’t about to think with his dick when he went wheel’s up like the rest of his team.
BLAKE CLENCHED HIS jaw, looking over the latest SITREP and satellite imagery as they flew on the C-17 cargo plane to South America. The latest images showed yet another truckload of weapons had arrived before nightfall.
When would they start moving them out?
It was absolutely insane that a vast network was smuggling weapons up from Colombia all the way to the U.S. border. In the past, they’d dealt with drug cartels, human trafficking, and more. But now to have to worry about terrorist threats coming from the Southern Hemisphere?
There weren’t enough hours in the day to deal with this shit.
Some of his buddies were on the Alpha SEAL team based out of Little Creek, clear across the country. They’d most recently been down in Mexico, dealing with the kidnapping of the CO’s now wife.
He blew out a breath, glancing around the cargo plane. Troy sat with headphones on, thumbing through something on his phone. Ethan was sleeping in his seat, arms crossed and dead to the world. Some of the others were gathered around playing cards.
He glanced back at the imagery.
It was late. He needed to get some shut eye since they’d go over the specs tomorrow and then move in under the cover of night, when most of those assholes were sleeping. They’d have to be cautious not to disturb the small buildings where weapons were being held. And who was he kidding?
Those weren’t buildings, just hastily thrown together huts. One wrong move, and the entire place could be in danger. His team would need masks in the event of a chemical spill.
They’d convene with the Colombian government and military officials. Blake’s team would move in first, but the others would be on standby for backup and securing the weapons. He set everything aside and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He often wore headphones on flights like this to drown out the noise, but when it was late, the sound of the engines would lull him to sleep.
Chapter 6
CLARISSA AWOKE WITH a start, her hands numb. She tried to shift positions and then quickly realized she’d fallen asleep slumped over on the ground. Memories of the previous afternoon quickly came rushing back. Collecting water samples. Starting the hike back. The armed men. The camp full of terrorists.
Bile rose in the back of her throat and she shifted uncomfortably on the ground.
The grass she was sitting on was slightly damp, the camp was silent, and it was pitch black inside the tent. The metal pole was cold, and she gave a quick tug, hoping the ropes had somehow miraculously loosened.
Blinking in the darkness, she looked around.
How long had she been asleep for?
No one had come back as far as she knew. Moving her stiff legs, she squeaked as she kicked something. Her heart raced, and she fumbled on the ground, her hands moving across the Earth, and realized it was a plate. Leaning over, she sniffed and smelled food.
Her stomach rumbled.
It would be awkward to eat with her wrists bound together, but there was about two feet of rope between her and the pole, giving her a little bit of leeway to move. She could reach down and lift the food from the plate to her mouth.
What if they’d poisoned it? Or put drugs inside to knock her out? Which would be worse—being weak from hunger or tempting fate to try whatever they’d given her?
She shivered as she realized the food meant someone had come into the tent while she’d been sleeping. She looked around again, unable to tell where the opening was in the darkness. Was anyone inside here now, she wondered with horror?
She stilled but didn’t sense anyone else. She didn’t hear anyone breathing.
She was so tired, she’d been dead to the world. But they could’ve done anything to her while she slept here tied up and helpless. Tears smarted her eyes. She needed to escape. Night time was her best bet since most people would be sleeping. But how would she untie these ropes?
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she hastily swiped them away. She’d gain nothing by sitting here in the dark crying. She needed to be smart. To think. To come up with a plan to escape.
Reaching over, she felt the food on the plate again and lifted something to her mouth. It was a local fruit and sickeningly sweet—overripe. Her body needed fuel though. It didn’t taste rotten, just a day or two past its prime.
She took another bite, knowing she needed the nourishment. She was still dehydrated from their trek through the rainforest. She felt around on the ground again, but it didn’t seem like they’d left her any type of drink or water.
The only other thing on the plate was rice, and she slowly ate that as well, not wanting to upset her stomach if she ate too quickly.
Someone must have noticed that she and her guide never returned to their small camp. Would they notify the authorities? She assumed eventually they might, but being gone for a day probably wouldn’t cause too much alarm. For all they knew, she could’ve camped somewhere for a night. She’d been with her guide after all, not alone in the jungle.
She paused, food halfway to her mouth, wondering what had happened to him.
She assumed he was dead. Had they gotten rid of t
he body or left it there for someone to stumble upon? The reality was, whoever found it might not even care. Other unsavory types were all over the place. Part of the reason she’d needed a guide was for her protection.
She finished eating as exhaustion began to overtake her again. Her stomach was full for the moment. She pulled on the pole again, wondering if she could somehow dig it up. It hadn’t budged at all, and she wondered how deeply they’d dug it.
Yawning, she decided to close her eyes for a little while.
Within moments, she’d once again surrendered to sleep.
FOOTSTEPS CAUSED HER to jolt awake the next morning, and an armed man suddenly burst into the tent. He stood in the opening, the bright sunlight streaming in behind him. He looked at her appraisingly for a moment but then took a step closer.
Clarissa scrambled to sit up, wincing when the ropes bit into her wrists. She moved as far away from him as possible, which didn’t mean much in the confines of the small tent.
This was a different man than the ones she was with yesterday. He was slightly older but still had the dark hair and beard of the others. His nose looked like it had been broken in the past and was slightly crooked, as if it hadn’t properly healed.
What concerned her most was the spark of interest and amusement in his dark eyes.
“You are the American,” he said with a low chuckle in a heavily accented voice.
She stared at him, not answering
“An American woman. You are worth a lot of money to us,” he said. “Money that I deserve and am owed. It was quite fortunate that we found you yesterday.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked, hating the tremor in her voice.
“You are my prisoner,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “I can do whatever I want with you. Use you however I want.”
His gaze raked over her body, and she felt her stomach tighten. If this guy came at her, she had no way to fight him off. She was literally tied to a metal pole in the ground. He could rip her clothes off and rape her right here. Hurt her. No one would care if she screamed. No one would help her.
SEAL's Desire Page 3
