“You want money,” she said.
“Money for my trouble, yes,” he agreed. “My men found you in the jungle, brought you back to my camp. I have given you food and shelter.”
“I won’t cause any trouble,” she said.
He chuckled darkly. “No, you will not. You will be of great use to me, actually. I will be demanding a ransom for your release. A pretty American woman like you? Surely you have a boyfriend back home. A husband. Someone will pay greatly for your safe return.”
“I don’t—I’m not married.”
“Your family then. Your government may not be willing to negotiate for your release, but I know your family will.”
He reached into his pocket, and she cringed, feeling relief when he only took out his cell phone. “I’m going to take a video of you tied up in captivity. Tell them your name. Tell them that you are a prisoner here. I want the entire world to know what I’m capable of.”
“The entire world?” she asked, flabbergasted.
This guy was crazy. He was probably right though. If he posted a video of her online, tied up to a metal pole, news channels would pick it up. It would spread over the Internet. Even if she had no immediate family, her colleagues at the university would see. Would they be able to help her? To raise money to see to her release? She didn’t even know how much money he wanted.
He took a few pictures of her, causing her to jump in surprise at the sudden flash. Pressing a button on the screen, he held the phone up again. “Start talking!” he ordered. “I want a video of you telling the world your name.”
Clarissa swallowed nervously. “Hello. I’m Clarissa Rothschild. I’m a biologist collecting data and samples in the Colombian rainforest. Yesterday, I was taken from my guide. I’m being held hostage here in a camp nearby. I don’t know exactly where I am. Please help me.”
He cut off the video, looking at the footage on his phone. Before she could say anything, he turned and was walking back out of the tent.
“Wait! What’s going to happen to me?”
The tent flaps rustled behind him, but no one came back.
Blowing out a sigh, she sank to the ground again. Once again, she was completely and utterly alone.
Chapter 7
BLAKE CROSSED THE AIRFIELD, his combat boots kicking up dust. After a seven-hour flight, he’d only gotten a few hours of shut eye. He’d gone over the specs and then closed his eyes, but all too soon, they were landing outside of Bogota.
“This beats the damn desert air any day,” Grayson said, falling in step beside him.
“Don’t I know it,” Blake agreed, looking at the mountains in the distance. “After our last trip, I had sand in my gear for weeks.” He rolled his shoulders, his neck stiff from sleeping on the damn plane. “I sure the hell won’t miss cleaning that out of everything I own.”
“Fucking Middle East,” Grayson said. “No wonder these assholes set up shop here. The climate is sure better.”
Blake chucked. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was better access to U.S. soil that brought them to South America. Not that they’re exactly close to our border down here in Colombia, but the government officials are easier to bribe than the Mexicans.”
“Yeah. That’s because the drug cartels are big business there. Here, too, come to think of it. They must not have bribed them very well though since here we are.”
“Not our problem. The Colombian government agreed to cooperate with us on the op. We’ll move in, grab the asshole in charge, and move out. The Colombian military can deal with whatever mess is left behind.”
“Shit fellas,” Logan said as he caught up. “I’m wiped. Think they have any decent coffee here?”
Blake smirked. “I’m sure it can be arranged.”
A military vehicle rolled up, and a Colombian contact of theirs got out, sauntering over to meet them. His driver watched as their group began talking. “You wasted no time in getting here,” the government official said with a laugh.
“That’s how we roll,” Blake said. “Our plan is to move in tonight unless it looks like he’s on the move.”
“Nah. They’ve been stockpiling weapons for the past two days. I don’t think they’ll move the goods until everything is ready. It seems like they’re planning on a caravan north.”
“Ballsy,” Grayson commented.
“They’ve got deep pockets,” the man chuckled. “They can bribe whoever they need to along the way. It worked so far—they’ve got a damn camp set up.”
“Not for long,” Blake ground out. “This operation ends tonight.”
“I must get to a morning meeting. Let me know if I can be of assistance in the meantime,” the man said.
Blake nodded, and the men watched as he climbed back into his vehicle and drove off.
“What’s the plan?” Troy asked, dropping his rucksack down on the ground as he walked up.
Blake briefly scanned the airfield. Their pilot was exiting the C-17, talking with some ground crew. Members of the Colombian military were walking around, conducting their usual business, and Blake spotted a U.S. DEA agent he knew. Blake nodded but then turned to his men.
“Let’s grab some food and then get down to business. We’ll go over the latest intel, discuss how we’ll infiltrate the camp, and then we wait.”
“Just another day in Colombia,” Grayson said, smirking.
“Tonight will be anything but regular for them,” Blake said.
CLARISSA GLANCED AROUND the empty tent. Her head hurt and she was exhausted, but she didn’t dare fall asleep again. It was morning, and that meant the camp would be awake. She was tied up in here, helpless, and anyone could come in and harm her. Touch her. Do whatever they wanted.
She saw silhouettes of men moving outside and heard voices, but no one had come back for her. Yet.
Trucks had been rumbling up for the past hour, and she wondered if they were bringing more weapons. She shuddered to think about who was the target—no doubt they were after Americans. If she ever escaped, she’d have to warn someone. The embassy?
She didn’t even know how to get back though.
Her gaze fell on the grass growing inside of the tent, and she absentmindedly wondered about the nitrogen levels in the soil. The grass would wilt soon if they kept the tent here—no sunlight was coming in.
She froze as the tent flaps suddenly moved, and a man strode inside. He smirked as he looked down at her and walked over. She cringed away, scampering back, but he only grabbed the empty plate on the ground.
Muttering something in Arabic, he turned and walked out.
She almost breathed a sigh of relief, but another man came in as soon as he was gone. He had a plate full of rice but looked upon her with interest. Setting the plate near the entry flap, he crossed over to her, his hands moving to unfasten his pants.
Without even thinking, she screamed, and then he was rushing toward her. She yanked at the ropes as he pushed her to the ground, her wrist twisting painfully. She fought and kicked as his large body pinned her down, his hand covering her mouth. She kicked and bit at him, and then she heard a voice yelling in Arabic.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as the man from early this morning, with the cell phone, angrily rushed in yelling.
The man on top of her jumped up, talking rapidly in Arabic, and hurried out of the tent. The other man looked at her but didn’t offer any assistance or seem overly concerned that she’d almost been raped. He pulled his phone out again. “The recording from earlier was not good. Let’s try this again so I can send it to the Americans.”
Brushing her tears aside, she gasped as her wrist twisted. She’d hurt it in the scuffle. Shit. Shit Shit.
Shaking, she tried to sit up.
“This is better,” he said. “Your tears are good. They will know you are my prisoner here and that I mean business. I will film you again and upload it online. Your family will pay top dollar for your release.”
He began filming her, and she angrily looked at his phone,
then at the asshole standing here. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Tell them your name,” he said.
Frustrated, she swiped at her tears. “Clarissa Rothschild. I am being held hostage in a camp here in Colombia.”
“Tell them what just happened,” he coaxed.
“I was just attacked here—almost raped. I’m tied up in a tent.”
“Very good,” he agreed. “And what do you want?”
“These men are requesting a ransom for my release. Please do whatever they say.”
He turned off the camera and stuck the phone into his pocket. Crossing over toward her, he began talking in Arabic.
“What are you saying?”
“You are mine,” he said smugly. “I have much work to do today, but I will come back for you later.” His gaze fell on the plate of rice. “If you can reach that food, it is yours.”
He turned and walked back out of the tent, and she looked over at it in confusion. Good grief. How was she supposed to get the food when she was still tied to this damn pole? Her wrist ached, and she feared that it was broken. The rope bit into her skin, but the injured wrist was already turning black and blue.
Tears filled her eyes again. What did he mean he’d be back for her later?
Chapter 8
BLAKE STRAPPED HIS Kevlar vest on and sheathed his knife. He glanced at his assault rifle leaning against the table and picked up his gas mask and helmet. There was no telling what would happen if there was a chemical leak from the weapons. The intelligence they’d garnered hadn’t indicated what was inside them.
His men moved around him, readying their gear.
Troy adjusted his night vision goggles and spoke through his headset. “I sure as shit hope we don’t accidentally set off those weapons. We don’t need a goddamn chemical leak when we’re retrieving the package.”
“You and me both,” Grayson said.
Blake looked at his men. “We’ll be entering from the opposite side of the camp. Sat imagery shows that all of the weapons are located in huts closest to the highway.”
“Makes sense,” Ethan said. “They can store them there and then put them into vehicles when they transport them north. And the asshole in charge?”
“At the other end of camp where the men are sleeping,” Blake confirmed. “The terrain is rough with thick vegetation throughout the rainforest, but approaching on that side offers the least chance of detection.”
“And the least chance of causing a chemical leak,” Troy said.
Blake nodded. “We need to avoid aiming anywhere near the huts. If the men run that way—let them. The Colombian military will be standing by further down the highway. They won’t escape.”
“Not unless they sneak off into the rainforest,” Logan said.
“I’ve got the latest maps,” Jackson said, moving toward the others. “When we breach the camp from this side, the terrain is quite thick. If we lose them, we lose them.”
“Not gonna happen,” Blake said, grabbing his weapon. “All we need is Abboud. The others can live off the land as far as I’m concerned. They’re not our mission.”
“The Humvees are here, Raptor,” a voice said over the headsets, calling Blake by his nickname.
“Roger that,” Blake said into his mouthpiece. He looked around at his men again. “Jackson, Ethan, and I will be in the first vehicle. The rest of the team will ride in the second in the event shit goes south. They’ll drop us a mile away so we’re not detected by anyone.”
“Nothing like a little hike through the jungle in the middle of the night,” Troy said, rubbing his hands together.
“Watch out for the monkeys,” Blake quipped.
“Hell,” Ethan muttered.
The men filed out as Blake chuckled. Jesus. He would have a job where he needed to look out for rainforest wildlife. Chemical weapons. Terrorists.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins as they walked out into the dark night. He could see perfectly with his night vision goggles, noticing the movement around the Colombian airfield. The military was already rolling out to wait nearby, and he and his SEAL team climbed into the waiting Humvees.
The vehicles began moving, and Blake watched as they pulled away from the compound. Hell. After they nabbed this asshole they’d be wheels up, flying back toward San Diego. It was a quick op, but he was okay with that.
“Everyone have the coordinates of the camp?”
“Roger that,” came the replies over the headset.
“There are no vehicles in sight,” the driver said. “The highway is deserted. I think we can do the drop at a half mile out.”
“Roger that,” Blake confirmed. “Let’s move closer.”
The Humvees rolled to a stop alongside the highway, and the men jumped out in the dead of night. One by one they disappeared into the rainforest, moving toward the terrorist camp. Blake heard the engines as the vehicles made a u-turn and headed back the way they’d come.
“Radio when you’ve retrieved the package,” the CO said over the headsets. “We’ll helo in and move on out. The Humvees will be on standby in the event we need to exit via land.”
“Understood,” Blake said. “We’re moving into the rainforest.”
“Shit there’s a hell of a lot of vines here,” Logan muttered, moving forward. “We should’ve just flown in and let them know we were coming.”
“Put on your big-boy pants,” Ethan joked.
“What the hell was that?” Jackson asked, looking up as something scurried above them in the trees.
“It’s like I’m with a bunch of girls,” Troy muttered. “Man up.”
“Just a walk in the woods,” Blake quipped, moving forward. The brush was dense through his night vision goggles—vines, trees, flowers. It was like a fucking tropical paradise save for the fact he was decked out in his gear with his SEAL team. He almost expected to run across a waterfall with the local wildlife frolicking in the moonlight or something.
He checked his coordinates and continued on.
The rest of the journey was silent as the men moved through the rainforest.
“ETA?” the CO asked over the headsets.
“The camp should be in sight in five minutes,” Blake confirmed.
“It looks like there’s a clearing up ahead,” Ethan said in a low voice. “I think we’re almost to the edge.”
“Affirmative,” Blake confirmed. “We moved through faster than planned. Hold up,” he said as his group came to a stop near the edge of the jungle.
The men peered through the trees, staying out of sight. There were a couple of lanterns lit surrounding the perimeter but no movement inside the camp. Blake noticed a couple of trucks off in the distance. He couldn’t see the highway from here but knew it must be on the other side. There’s no way anyone could drive those vehicles through the rainforest. They’d been moving in chemical weapons from somewhere and offloading them right there.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s guarding this side of camp,” Jackson said, his voice deep. “We don’t have eyes on the other side though.”
“That works to our advantage,” quipped Troy. “No one’s here to stop us when we mosey on in.”
Blake nodded. “We’ll move in and breach the camp on my command. I’ll go straight in with Jackson, Logan, and Gray. T-Rex and Everglades, you two enter from the southwest side. The Colombian military is further up the highway, so we won’t worry about the opposite side of camp for now.”
“Affirmative,” Troy said.
“Understood,” the others repeated.
“Remember we need him alive,” Blake ordered. “He’s wanted for several attacks on U.S. troops in the Middle East. We need to know who exactly is funding this side of things.”
“We’ll get that motherfucker,” Ethan said.
“Hoorah,” Grayson said in a low voice.
“If there’s a chemical spill, we move the hell out. There’s no telling what sorts of weapons they’re harboring. Keep the gunfire away from
the huts no matter what.”
“Roger that,” came the men’s replies.
Blake lifted his weapon and nodded at the men, each of them readying their guns. “On my command,” Blake said, eyeing his team. “Move in!”
The men began moving forward, clearing the forest and running toward the camp in the middle of the night. Blake crouched low to the ground as they moved in, but no one in the camp even stirred. Troy and Ethan left the main group, heading over to the southwest side. Blake moved forward with the rest of the men.
“Search every tent,” he said over his headset. “Abboud isn’t getting out of here.”
Blake breached the first tent, listening to a man’s startled cry as he awoke. He quickly disarmed him, immediately realizing it wasn’t the leader. He heard Logan and Jackson moving through another tent close by, and he and Grayson moved forward.
The second tent they breached had another sleeping man—but not the leader. Blake left Grayson to tie him up and moved out, heading for a third tent.
“We’ve breached camp,” Ethan said over the headsets. “First tent on this side is empty. Moving forward.”
“Roger that,” Blake said.
“Moving to our fourth tent. We’ve got three assholes tied up,” Troy said in a low voice. “None of them are Abboud.”
Blake ground his teeth, redirecting his search and moving toward the center of camp. Grayson was continuing with the tents lining the perimeter. They’d been searching the outlying tents, but maybe the leader was in one of the center ones for more security.
“I’m searching the inner circle,” Blake said. “There are three tents here, separated a bit from the rest.”
“Roger that, we’ve got it covered here,” Grayson replied.
Blake burst into the first tent, frowning when he realized it was empty. It seemed odd to have a prime spot in the center of camp, but the sleeping area had no one there. He took a quick glance around and then moved out, heading to the second of the three. A man jumped up when Blake burst in, and as he grabbed a gun, Blake didn’t hesitate and shot the man.
SEAL's Desire Page 4
