Breaking Free (Delta Force Strong Book 4)

by Elle James

  When the vehicle came to a full stop, she could feel it shift into park. Doors creaked open and slammed closed.

  Layla bunched her muscles. She tried to get into a position where she could jump out, but it was hard when she was lying on her side. She got ready to roll over onto her feet.

  The lid popped up, and she sprang.

  Two men were there. They grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the trunk. She fought, kicking and screaming, but they held fast. A big man wearing an overcoat stepped up to her and slapped her hard in the face. It made her head spin, and she almost lost consciousness again. When she blinked, the gray haze around her eyes receded. She looked into the face of a man she recognized.

  Hasan Saka.

  “I should have known it was you.” She remembered seeing him at the hotel after the shots were fired. When the shit had hit the fan inside the ballroom, this man had stepped to the side and hugged a wall observing, not rushing out like everyone else. As if he had no fear of the men wielding the guns.

  His lip turned up in a sneer. “What do you know, woman?”

  “You staged the attack on the hotel,” she guessed. “Those shooters worked for you.”

  His lip lifted in a sneer. “No one will ever know.”

  A cold chill rippled across Layla’s skin. No one will ever know meant he intended to make sure she never spilled the beans. He intended to kill her. But, if that was the case, why hadn’t he done it already?

  “What do you want with me?” Layla demanded.

  He lifted his chin, glancing past her. “You will see soon enough.”

  Headlights appeared at the end of the street, and a car pulled to a stop. A person stepped out and stood behind the open car door.

  “I’m here to make the trade.” Miriam Rogers voice sounded loud and clear.

  A lead weight settled in the pit of Layla’s belly. They were using her to get to Miriam. The note had been a setup.

  Had Pinar Erim been in on it?

  “Send the woman over,” Miriam said.

  Saka shook his head. “You will meet halfway.”

  “No way,” Miriam said. “You’ll kill us both.”

  That had to be what he intended. Layla couldn’t let that happen. “Don’t do it!” she called out. “Don’t make the trade! Leave. Get away from here. Be safe.”

  Saka backhanded her with his fist, busting her lip.

  Blood trickled across her chin. Layla wiped it away. It was nothing compared to the bloodshed this monster had in mind. “Don’t do it! Save yourself,” she said. “He isn’t interested in a trade. He’s gonna kill us both.”

  “Even if you leave without her, you won’t get far,” Saka said. “We know who you are, Miriam Rogers. There’s a price on your head, and I intend to collect it, dead or alive.”

  “You know you’re going to be found out, don’t you?” Layla said.

  “Shut up, woman.” He raised his hand to hit her again.

  She turned her head in anticipation of the blow. “Those guards will talk. They will tell who gave them the orders to kill the Minister of Justice. They won’t take the fall for you.”

  His hand paused, and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t know that.”

  “And when they do let the president know who was responsible for the shooting at the gala, you won’t be safe inside of Turkey. You don’t need her,” Layla said. Tipping her head toward Miriam Rogers. “You need me. Alive.” It was a risk, but one she was willing to take.

  He shot a glance her way, and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m the US Ambassador’s daughter. I could be your ticket out of Turkey. All you have to do is hold me for ransom and ask for anything. Money, a helicopter, a plane to get out of here. What will Miriam Rogers buy you?”

  His brow descended. “She stole from me.”

  Layla had to bite her tongue to keep from telling the man what she thought of him. “The women you planned to sell into the sex trade?”

  “Their father’s negotiated arranged marriages for them.”

  “Let me get that straight. They sold you those women—their daughters—for you to sell into arranged marriages?” She snorted. “And they believed you?” She shook her head. “Arranged marriages or brothels, I don’t see much of a difference. Those women—those girls—would have led a life that wasn’t worth living. They aren’t animals to be sold or traded. They’re human beings with thoughts and feelings. They feel pain and sadness.”

  “I bought them. I paid money for them. My clients paid me for a product I could not deliver.”

  “Women and children are not products to be bought and sold. Is that why you killed the Minister of Justice? Had he got tired of turning a blind eye to your operation? Or did you owe him some of those women that you had purchased, and he threatened to out you to the president?”

  “He talked too much, and you talk too much.”

  “What’s it to be?” Miriam called out. “Send her over. You can have me for her.”

  “No trade is necessary,” he said. “I will have you both.”

  Layla gasped. “You don’t need her.”

  He laughed.

  “You need to get out of Turkey. Your life is in danger here. You killed a government official. The president will not look kindly on that.” Layla spoke fast, hoping to change the man’s mind.

  “He is a fool,” Saka said. “He does not control his ministry. They do as they please. They are even more corrupt than he is.”

  Layla snorted. “More corrupt than you?”

  Saka raised a hand, moving his finger in a circular motion. Men appeared out of the shadows and converged on Miriam’s vehicle. She tried to jump back inside, but they caught her before she could leave or lock herself in. They yanked open the door and dragged her out in front of the headlights.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Layla cried.

  Saka smiled, a horrible, evil smile. “Why would I hurt her? She’s worth money. She has a price on her head. I plan on cashing in on that price as well as ransoming you to buy my way out of Turkey. And I will have my revenge. I’m not the only businessman she has stolen from. She will not last long in jail. And once I ransom you, you and your father will be deported from Turkey for your connection with this woman.”

  Layla’s heart sank as they dragged Miriam toward her.

  “Take them inside and tie them up,” he said in Turkish.

  The two men holding Layla half-dragged, half-carried her into a warehouse behind them. Once inside, they used duct tape to bind her ankles and wrists. They did the same to Miriam and sat them both on the cold concrete floor several feet apart.

  Hasan strode in and handed her a burner phone. “Call your father. Tell him he will come with two million dollars and a helicopter to get me out of here. And tell him to contact the Turkish president and inform him that he can have the terrorist Miriam Rogers for the price of the bounty on her head.”

  He shoved the phone into her hands. She struggled to punch the buttons for the number because of the bindings around her wrists, but she dialed her father’s number and waited for it to ring.

  “Are we getting close yet?” Rucker asked.

  Bull held the cellphone in his grip, his body tense. “Two miles.”

  “We should slow down and look for a place to stop. We need to go in on foot,” Rucker said.

  Bull clenched his teeth. He knew Rucker was right, but he wanted to get there as fast as he could.

  “We don’t know how many people we’re up against,” Rucker reasoned. “It won’t do Layla any good if we go blowing in there and are immediately surrounded, outmanned and outgunned. We need to have a clear idea of what’s there.”

  Bull nodded. “You’re right. Park it, and let’s get in there.”

  When they were a mile and a half away from the indicated location, Rucker pulled into an alley.

  The vehicle behind him parked beside them. All of the men piled out, performed a quick comm check, and then pulled their weapons ou
t of the trunk.

  “Thought you might like to have these.” Rucker handed an additional M4A1 rifle, a Glock 9MM pistol and a holster to Bull.

  The weight of the weapons in his hands felt good. When the team was ready, Bull nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The men spread out and moved toward the location several blocks away with Bull on point. They clung to the shadows of the buildings around them, checking for bogies before stepping out into the open. When they were just a block away, Bull raised his fist, indicating they should stop. He spent a long moment studying the street and buildings ahead.

  A movement in the shadows caught his attention. “Armed bogey, two o’clock.”

  From his position at the opposite corner, Rucker reported, “Another bogey, eleven o’clock.”

  The men carried AK-47 Russian-made rifles and appeared to be alert and watching.

  “I’ll take eleven,” Rucker said.

  “I’ve got two,” Mac chimed in.

  The Deltas made their move, slipping silently through the street, their guns slung across their backs, knives in their hands.

  Another silhouette emerged from a shadow directly ahead of Bull. “Got another bogey, twelve o’clock. I’ll take him,” Bull said. He moved swiftly and silently, shadow to shadow, sneaking up on the man.

  “Eleven neutralized,” Rucker reported.

  Bull hadn’t heard a thing. No cries for help. No screams of terror. Just silence. His bogey struck a match and lit a cigarette. As the man concentrated on the flame at the end of his smoke, Bull made his move. He slipped in, grabbed the man behind the neck, and dispatched him with a single stroke. The cigarette and match fell to the ground, the flame burning out.

  Bull dragged the man to the corner of an alley and dropped him in the shadows. “Twelve o’clock neutralized.”

  “Two o’clock neutralized,” Mac reported.

  Dash took point, having taken the lead as the other three took care of the perimeter guards. The team moved forward and spread out around the front of a warehouse building.

  “Blade, Dawg, Lance, check the rear of the building. See if there are other entrances,” Rucker ordered.

  “Roger,” all three men said at once.

  The men moved out, circling wide around the warehouse.

  Bull rocked forward, wanting to rush in, find Layla and get her the hell out.

  “Steady, Bull,” Rucker said. “Let the team report.”

  “Another bogey at the rear,” Blade reported. “Got him. There’s one door and its locked.”

  “What’s the plan?” Bull asked. “They could be torturing her as we speak.”

  “Or they could shoot her as we blow through the doors,” Rucker whispered. “Blade, did you bring what it takes to make a little noise?”

  “Affirmative,” Blade responded.

  “Rig it, and let us know when you’re ready,” Rucker said.

  “Roger.”

  “Dash and Mac, you guys take the guards on the front door.” Rucker waved the two men forward. “Bull and I will breach.”

  “I’ll take point,” Bull said.

  “Roger,” Rucker said. “I’ll cover.”

  Mac and Dash hugged the shadows until they reached the sides of the building, then moved along the front so quietly that the guards didn’t see them until they were right on them. One of the guards called out before he was dispatched.

  Bull cringed. The man’s shouts could have warned those in the warehouse of the threat outside.

  “Could use that noise right now,” Rucker said.

  “Ready,” Blade responded. “Clear.”

  Bull waited for his cue—the sound of an explosion—to breach the doorway.

  Chapter 12

  While the guards weren’t looking, Layla tore into the duct tape with her teeth, ripping at it as fast as she could. Beside her, she could hear the telltale sounds of Miriam doing the same.

  Hasan Saka stood several feet away, his cellphone pressed to his ear. She heard him speaking in Turkish.

  Thankfully, it was dark enough in the warehouse that even if the guards had looked back to see what they were doing, they wouldn’t have been able to make out the fact that they were tearing at their bonds. They would have to be a whole lot closer. And then something Saka said made her stop. Though she could only pick up a few words, she recognized him addressing the person he was talking to as “Mr. President.”

  Was he talking directly to the Turkish president?

  Still tearing at the tape, she perked up her ears and scooted a little closer so that she could hear him better. From the gist of his conversation, it sounded more like he’d staged the attack on the Minister of Justice based on the president’s orders. He added that the two women knew. Then she heard him say something that chilled her to the bones. He would take care of them. No one would ever know that the president was involved in the attack on the hotel.

  Layla could forget negotiating for their lives in exchange for collecting the ransom from Layla’s father or a bounty on Miriam Rogers.

  Hasan Saka had just been ordered to kill them.

  “Did you get that?” she whispered to Miriam.

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “We could sure use a miracle about now.”

  Hasan Saka ended his call, slowly turned toward the ladies on the floor and pulled a handgun from his pocket. He aimed from Layla to Miriam and hesitated. “Who first?”

  “It appears to me,” Layla said, desperate to buy time, “that you need a hostage, maybe two. One hostage the American people can get behind—the daughter of an American ambassador. The other being a freedom rider like Miriam Rogers. You need us, and you need the backing of the United States. Otherwise, you’re taking the fall for the president, and once he implicates you in what happened at the hotel, he’ll have no need for you and he’ll tie up loose ends. That would be you. Which leads us back to the fact that you need to get out of the country, and we’re your ticket.”

  He shook his head. “You and I both know the United States does not negotiate with terrorists. They would label me as a terrorist. I have my own way of getting out of the country. So, back to the question, who first? The one who stole my money?” He pointed the gun at Miriam. “Or she who talks too much?” He leveled the barrel of his weapon at Layla and narrowed his eyes. His finger moved off the trigger guard onto the trigger.

  A shout from outside the warehouse made Saka turn.

  Layla tore the last threads of the duct tape loose from her wrists. She had to get away, but her ankles were still bound.

  Hasan Saka told one of the guards on the inside to go check and see what the noise was all about. Layla reached for the duct tape around her ankles and ripped it away as fast as she could.

  The noise made Hasan turn toward her. He muttered a curse beneath his breath and raised his weapon again. Still bound at the ankles, Layla rolled to the side. Hasan fired his weapon at the same time a loud bang sounded from the backside of the warehouse.

  The bullet hit somewhere close to where Layla had been moments before, missing her by inches.

  The guards inside the warehouse shouted. Some started to run toward the rear to see what the noise was about. Hasan yelled at them.

  They changed directions and ran toward a large van parked inside the warehouse.

  Hasan Saka ran toward the van, yelling at one of the guards in Turkish. “Kill them! Kill them!”

  The guard stood in the middle of the warehouse, looking between the women on the floor and the van being loaded with the other guards and Hasan, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to do as he was told or bail on the situation and get the hell out of there.

  The front door to the warehouse blew open, and men carrying rifles stormed in.

  The guard raced toward the van. Before he reached it, the van took off racing toward the men who’d just entered the warehouse. The men carrying the guns turned and aimed at the van barreling toward them.

  “Don’t shoot at the van!” someone ye
lled. “She might be in it.”

  Layla knew that voice, and she almost sobbed with relief. It was Bull, and the men were his team. The cavalry had arrived.

  “Bull!” Layla called out. “We’re not in that van. We’re here.”

  The Deltas scattered out of the path of the oncoming vehicle.

  The van crashed through the metal overhead door and burst out into the open.

  The guard who’d missed the van swung his rifle toward the Deltas.

  Layla called out in Turkish. “Put your weapon down, or they’ll kill you!”

  The guard hesitated only for a second then threw his rifle on to the ground and raised his arms high in the air.

  The Delta Force team scattered out, looking for others who might have missed their ride out. One by one they called out from different corners of the warehouse. “Clear.”

  Bull rushed forward to Layla and dropped down on his knees.

  “Hey, are you all right?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I am now.”

  He pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him. When he tried to bring her to her feet, she stumbled, her ankles still partially bound. He settled her back on the ground, took out his knife, and sliced through the tape, removing it from her legs.

  She turned to Miriam. “Help my friend.”

  “I’ve got it,” Blade called out. Blade cut the bonds off of Miriam’s wrists and ankles.

  Bull helped Layla to her feet.

  She leaned into him, reveling, in the strength his arms provided wrapped around her.

  “It was Hasan Saka,” she said. “He took me to get to Miriam. He was one of the main people involved in human trafficking in the area. He wanted to take Miriam out so that he could resume operations, only I made a guess that ended up being accurate.”