Becoming His Slave (100 page)

“You have to Kat—to save the battery. Do it. When the car stops, you dial my phone again then stuff it in the tail light where they won’t see it. Okay? You call me and leave it in the car so I can track you.” His fingers tightened around the phone it was going to kill him to hang up with her. He could hear the fear in her, the terror that could rape a person’s mind. And it was happening to his woman. “I love you baby, I love you so much, but you have to hang up the phone now—okay? Just hang up.”

“I’m afraid
—
”  
she breathed out.

“I know. You gotta trust me. I’m coming for you little mouse—I’m coming.” His ears strained, listening for other sounds.

Duh-thunk
—
Duh-thunk
—
Duh-thunk
—

He could hear the tires rolling against the seams in the pavement of the road—they were going over a bridge. They were taking her off the island.
 
—
BLIP-BLEEP
—

Trenton pressed the phone to his temple closing his eyes for one painful fraction, “Hang up baby.” He whispered.

“I can’t
—
”

“Yes you can—hang up little mouse.” And he died when he heard the line click and go silent. Trenton’s fist hit the dash in a sudden fit of rage. The pain he felt escaped his lungs in a loud anguished roar. He dared to glance at Harper sitting next to him.

“They shot William.” Harper’s voice went flat.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Trenton dropped Harper off near the incident where William was shot luckily the wound wasn’t critical and he would come through. But Trenton diverted the scene. The last thing he needed was locals tied on his ass getting in the way. Already he had Diesel and the others on the phone. Extracting a plan. It was all they could do until Katianna called back and he prayed that she would. Packing the Gurkha Knight with guns and ammo was the only thing keeping his mind together.

The thudded sound of helicopter blades approaching meant Marcus and Dane were arriving. “They’re here let’s get some guns up there so we can head out.” He announced to his team of men.

Diesel joined Trenton totting up several sniper rifles, a Barrett M82a1 sniper rifle, a CM19 full auto machine gun with hyper powered scope, one Iron Eagle tactical rifle with e-tach rail system along with Dane’s favored recon scout rifle. These were just the specials for them. The guys riding with them were also packing heavily.

“Everyone get the throat mics on?” Trenton passed out the military style comm systems with the bone mics to the men.

“Yes Boss.” The men all replied, strapping the velcro collars around their necks.

Trenton paused alongside the chopper on the roof top landing pad, looking over the team carefully. Assuring himself he had placed everyone in their best places. “Carlos, Rick—you ride airborne with Dane and Marcus. Max—you, Tyree, Jay and Lance take the Hummer. Alan take Diesel’s truck and catch up with Harper and bring him in as soon as possible. Fifi and Pedro will be with Diesel and me.”

“Have you gotten the call yet?” Pedro asked, knowing it was all pending on picking up a signal from her phone.

Trenton shook his head, “No, but we picked up a blip on the tracker just before she powered down her phone. We know they were in the Holland tunnel

“Trenton.” Dane’s voice came over the comm-link in his ear.

“Yeah go ahead Dane.”

“Go ahead and take the vehicles out you can wait for the call right there at the Holland bridge waterfront park. Call us when you got something. It won’t take us more than five-ten minute to catch up.”

Trenton glanced through the window of the Sikorsky chopper to Dane who sat behind the master controls and nodded. “Let’s move out guys.”

The call came through while in route. The two men that took her met up with two others. Kat’s screams for help splitting the airwaves slicing through his sanity. If they hurt her—if he never got her back, the blood bath he would deliver was a frightening dark thought in his head.

Diesel transferred the call from the phone to the laptop where they could make out more details of what was happening. Katianna’s cries were silenced and they made out the voice of four men arguing that was soon ended with gun fire. Just two shots and nothing more.

Trenton had only one thing to go on, the name
Kirshnov
had been said during the argument.

“Where do you run a brothel and opium house?” Trenton asked aloud to himself.

But Diesel found the answer, “Kirshnov has property in his name. The old paper mill factory—
fuckin A
—its right next to the box yard for the freight harbor.”

Trenton radioed the info out to the others and they steamed ahead for the ship yard in Newark Harbor.

Katianna laid on the floor in the cell like room that was little more than a crate. Her ankles and wrists bound painfully with wire. The stench of others and the thick fumes of opium seeped in overtaking any wishful thinking of escape. Her eyes flickered to the two other girls in the open crate with her. One huddled in the corner shrinking into the smallest ball she could manage, the other an Asian girl had her feet tied into stocks, the soles of her feet covered in lines of blood. Both stripped of their clothes, given nothing more than a trash bag to cover their bodies now.  When the men walked by she chewed at the insides of her cheeks to stifle the fearful sounds she wanted to make but she refused to utter any weeping or begging for help.

Time seemed to stretch before her in a hallucinogenic haze. The walls and floor moved and rippled. Moans sounded like cries, tears sounded like pleasure. She vomited. Someone screamed and the sound was cut short like the flicking of a switch. Then a gurgle of something echoing off the steel beams over head and tears streamed down her face.

Seconds became minutes which in turn seemed like hours. She had no concept of how long she lay there on the floor, she only knew—no one came.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

~
                                         
~

Kirshnov was talking with his men to arrange the shipping crate out of the country containing the girls. The freighter they had planned was on delay and he was fuming to find another passage that was set to leave port, now that he had the girl with the snowy blue eyes to match his other two prize girls. His cell phone rang in his pocket and absently fished it out opening it without checking the ID, assuming it was likely his wife or another family member since it was his clean line.

“
Gah?
” He spoke the informal Czech greeting

“You have something of mine and I want it back.”
The unfamiliar voice, cold and contrite came over the line.

Kirshnov stepped away from his men, to avoid any over reception from their conversation, but also to hear better to the man who in one sentence said a thousand words. One that said his time was up. “Who is this?”

“Who else have you given your personal number to? Other than your family and the Dominus.”
The male voice spoke in a controlled melodramatic tone that refused to be rushed or questioned over irrelevant information.

“Dominus it was so impolite of you not to invite me to your party when we have so much in common.”

“What I have to say is far less polite for you Nikolai
—
I want my slave back.”
There was a long pause of silence before he spoke again.
“I’m coming for her.”

Kirshnov snapped his fingers to get his men’s attention, then made a whirling signal ordering them to wrap it up. It was time to clear out.

“Don’t bother packing up. I’m already here.”
And right on queue from the dark shadows of the warehouse strolled Trenton Leos. Walking in as if he owned the world.

Kirshnov’s men instantly reached for their guns, but Trenton was already prepared, two flashes fired from his raising arms and took out the first two men. His arms swung about and fired again each aim taking out another man. Trenton’s pace quickened till he was only a few steps from Kirshnov, his gun aim pivoted, one taking out the next man in line, the other pausing in line with Kirshnov’s forehead.

Another of Kirshnov’s men stepped up, his hand settling on the gun still holstered under his jacket.

“
Ah-ah-ah
—
”
Trenton wagged a gun toward the man, “Tell your men to ease down or the next one is for you, Nikolai.” Trenton gave an insolent warning.

“You are outnumbered my
přítel
Dominus. And where is your Patronus?” Just then something broke through one of the high windows and struck one of Kirshnov’s men in the head splattering brain matter on the two standing behind him, dropping him to the floor. The sniper shot was followed by the approaching sound of helicopter blades. The eyes of the remaining men went to the high rafters of the warehouse and followed the sound as the chopper flew over head. Trenton kept his eyes glued on Nikolai and his men.

“There you go again underestimating my position in this city. But until now I felt it more suitable that your blood trail be left to the Feds to follow.”

Kirshnov barked an order toward his men in his Czech tongue. Four of them left the room the other six backed off their guns. Kirshnov stared down the barrel of the silencer, to Trenton; except for the bead of sweat on Kirshnov’s kept his calm. “Perhaps we can do business then—you and I—we settle this.”

“I want my property back and then I want you to withdraw from my turf—for good. I’m sick of your snuff operations.”

Nikolai relaxed some, his eyes taking on a dark sinister stare. The man was evil through and through Trenton could see it and any suggestion of business from this man was bad. “Your slave you say? Let us see if we can figure out which one she is.”

Kirshnov snapped a finger at one his men. “Ivan go—bring the girls.”

Ivan, a large thick man with a heavy dark beard stepped forward, but Trenton brought his gun sight around to him directly, “Ivan—” his eyes flickered up at the roof, “I employ some the best snipers of the US Forces.” He grinned at the man.

Ivan’s lip twitched under the dark hair of his beard, but his eyes a dark grey gave no hint of his emotions.

Trenton lowered his guns and watched carefully. One eye on Ivan as he headed off into the maze of partition walls of the underground brothel, the other still fixed on Kirshnov.

A moment later the girls were brought out like a string of broken battered pearls. Their bodies covered with the marks of repeated lashings and forced piercings, more violent and unforgiving then any Trenton had ever seen. The beatings these girls endured left marks that stayed. Even with some of the most aggressive Doms that happened to possess a Sub that enjoyed it a little harder never procured such damage. If the skin was broken great care was placed on the Sub to heal their skin and to ensure their minds were not damaged in the process, but these girls weren’t just beaten. They were broken. And none of them were his Katianna.

Trenton side stepped bringing his gun back up till it was mere inches from Kirshnov’s temple. One of his men reached for his gun on natural response to protect his pit boss. Trenton drew up his second side arm in lightning speed and fired first. The man dropped dead in his shoes on the floor.

Trenton
tiskt
at Kirshnov in a mocking expression, “
Tsk Tsk
—I really hate it when people don’t do as I tell them, Kirshnov. These girls are rotten. Now bring me my slave or you’re going to soon run out of men.”

Kirshnov snapped his fingers. Ivan disappeared into the maze again while another of his men came around from the back with a new string of girls and there she was—third one in the row, and like the other eight that were led out with her, she was led by a noose around her neck, daisy chained to the next girl and to the next. Their hands tied behind their backs and the only thing they had on to cloth them was a trash bag with holes cut out for their head and arms. She was barefooted and he could see the ring of red bruises around her ankles where they had been tied too tightly. The only difference was she wasn’t blind folded. She was very aware of what was being done around her and she was seeing first hand just how evil the world could be.

Trenton hands clenched so tight he was certain he’d break a few of his own bones just trying not to kill right now.

“That her?”
One of the guys asked over the comm link.

Trenton wiped his forehead—signaling a
yes answer
.

“So Dominus—do you see what you are looking for?” Kirshnov gloated.

“Third one down.”

“
Ahh
I like this one too. So petit she is—
ahh?
”

“Why isn’t she blinded folded like the others?”

“Her eyes. Like two icebergs. They almost glow in the dark. They remind me of home.”

Trenton was fighting with himself to maintain his control. He wanted to pounce the son of bitch and slice him to a million pieces just now. His muscles so strained from the stress, it affected his breath, shredding it from his lungs. He was shaking inside. It was all he could do to not pull the trigger. He hated everything the man stood for, what he did to women. But mostly he hated what he was doing to his own woman, to Katianna.

Trenton stepped up and took hold of Katianna’s shoulders gently. The little woman yelped in a terrible fright, not the kind she gave him when he’d startle her but one of sheer terror. Eyes dilated and wider with horror floated up to find him and she froze. Her whole body was instantly trembling and she was ready to break in jibbering sobs at the sight of him. He wanted to hold her, wrap his arms around her and let her know it was okay that she was safe, but she wasn’t—
not yet
. And he could not show such attachments for her in front of Kirshnov. It would only motivate the man to hang onto her.