Authors: Gwen Hernandez
Tags: #romance, #military romantic suspense, #supsense
Just like his, the hook that anchored her chain to the wall was attached to a metal plate to prevent the chain from wearing away the concrete block around the screw. Probably also to prevent the captive from hacking at it. But what about the metal plate itself? It had sharp corners. Could he bend one back and use it on the rope?
He scooted on his knees until he was close to the wall and then turned sideways to get right up next to it, running his fingers along the perimeter of the square piece of steel. There were no gaps big enough for him to get purchase, but the lower edge sat over the grout line between two blocks, which left a bigger space between the metal and the brick. If he could wedge something under that gap…
Like the chain on his handcuffs. He flattened his hands against the rough wall and slid them up. After several tries, he wedged the center chain link under the corner of the metal plate. He leaned forward and pulled up with all of his strength.
His shoulders protested, tired and sore from their workout the night before and from being pinned back for so long. His wrists weren’t too happy either as the cuffs chafed against his skin. But skin would grow back.
He attacked it again and again, tug, release, tug, release. The metal was more likely to fail from repeated stress than from long, steady pressure. Sweat dripped in his eyes and ran down his back. His muscles complained.
The square plate didn’t budge.
Dan sat on his heels and rested the back of his head against the wall. He could do this. Everything he’d done over the last couple of days was nothing compared to his pararescue training. Not even close. Except that during training he hadn’t been crazy with worry for Alexa and a bunch of innocent children.
He worked in sets of ten. All he had to do was make it to ten, then he could start over. It was a trick he’d mastered in training. Just make it to the next…whatever. Meal, sleep, challenge, step.
He lost count of how many sets he was on, and his progress was minimal—the metal plate had only budged a millimeter, maybe two—when the ground started to shake.
This earthquake was less bouncy, and more side-to-side. As if the ground were in the screen of someone panning for gold. Taking advantage of the motion, Dan moved to the end of his chain and leaned forward with all of his weight, bracing his feet against the wall. He took hold of the chain to relieve the pressure on his wrists and hung suspended as the floor beneath him shimmied.
Maybe, just maybe, the tremor could help him do what he couldn’t do alone: loosen the bolt.
He let himself sway and bounce, his arms and shoulders screaming for mercy as he was jerked around. But the quake didn’t last long. Not as long as the one they’d had earlier in the day, though God knew his concept of time could be off.
Dan collapsed to his knees, his eyes closed as he fought for breath. With any luck, the island wouldn’t suffer any damage. His prison had held up. Unfortunately. Were Alexa and the children in a safe building?
If he couldn’t escape, Kurt might send someone else in to get both him and Alexa out, but that presumed his boss even knew they’d been captured.
I’ve fucked up this whole thing so badly.
He sagged, his limbs suddenly heavy as the logs they’d lifted in training. Some small part of him wanted to give up, just curl into a ball and let fate have its way.
But hell, no. He lifted his head and shook off the soul-crushing despair. He was a warrior, goddammit.
Giving up was not in his blood.
Get your shit together, Molina.
Time to get back to work.
He sucked in a deep breath and twisted around to view his handiwork, giving the chain a sharp jerk. The bolt didn’t budge, but it did appear to have worked its way partially out of the wall. Which meant that he could pull the metal plate about half a centimeter away from the concrete.
He shifted to his back and brought his knees up so that the rope around his ankles was positioned against the corner of the metal square. Then he began sawing.
Alexa didn’t want to leave the children, especially after the latest earthquake had the older ones in tears, but at least she knew they were getting fluids. She’d also managed to convince Nillin that she and Dan needed water.
One of the three guards who’d escorted her on the return trip unlocked the heavy door, slamming it open. He put his hand on her bottom and gave her a push.
She scurried into the dim, musty cell. The sun had just sunk below the horizon in the hour or so she’d been gone, and very little light made it into the small space. Her heart dropped at the sight of Dan on his knees, slumped against the wall. Had something happened to him while she was gone? She didn’t see any bruises or marks on his body, but that didn’t mean anything.
He watched her and the guard openly, but didn’t move.
“I brought some water,” she said, moving toward him. She’d already drunk her share of the twenty-ounce bottle while in the kids’ room.
He nodded and sat up, his eyes on the gun-toting man behind her as he opened his mouth. Seeing him like this—
weak
was a word she’d never associated with him before—twisted her insides. How bad off was he?
She tipped the bottle just enough that he could drink without spilling.
“Thank you,” he whispered, finally meeting her eyes. His were less green than amber at the moment and more lucid than she expected given his demeanor.
Hope kicked up. She held his head as he slowly finished off the water, wishing she could wrap her arms around him and never let go.
“Enough,” the guard said, his voice laced with impatience. He took the empty bottle and tossed it out the door before pulling her to her feet. “Turn around.”
She complied as he cuffed her and attached her restraints to the chain again. He left her feet unbound and shut the door behind him with a loud
thunk
.
He asked, “Where did—?”
“Are you okay?” she interrupted.
He shifted to his bottom and unfolded his legs in front of him. “I’m fine. I got the rope off my ankles, but I didn’t want the guard to notice when you came in.”
Alexa gasped. His left leg had long, bloody scratches running from his heel to halfway up his outer calf. Her fingers itched with the need to tend his wounds. “How?”
He jerked his head toward the metal plate on the wall. “With a little help from the earthquake and a sharp corner. It might not do us any good, but I needed something to do. And it feels better. Now if I could just get my hands free…”
She wiggled her wrists to test the handcuffs, but her captor had locked them down tight. Her arms and shoulders were already protesting their return to the awkward, painful position.
“Tell me where you went,” he said, eyeing her new shirt, his look making it clear that he feared the worst.
“Nillin took me to see the children.” Her breath shuddered out of her lungs. “Flore was struggling, but he let me treat her. All of them were dehydrated. I’ve never seen the bunch so listless. At first I thought maybe he’d given them Benadryl or something to keep them quiet.”
She’d mostly managed to keep it together while she was with the children, but now she had to fight back tears. The kids were so scared and confused. And vulnerable. The earthquakes hadn’t helped. Most of them were too young to remember the devastating tremor from three years before, but that didn’t make this one any less frightening.
She had practically begged Nillin to let her stay, but he’d refused. He had, however, promised to ensure they had food and water. Not good enough, but it would have to do.
Dan frowned. “Were you able to get them some fluids?”
She nodded. “He sent one of his men for sports drinks after I reminded him that dead children weren’t worth any money.” A wave of nausea rolled through her, but she breathed past it.
“What did you see out there?” he asked. “Can you tell where we are?”
“We’re north of Terre Verte, like you thought. I can see Montagne de St. Pierre from here.” She described the resort and their proximity to the water.
“What about men? Vehicles? Weapons?”
She thought back. “Nillin had four men with him to escort me. I saw maybe ten others milling around, all armed with rifles. It’s hard to say how many are inside the buildings, though. And we didn’t cover the entire resort.
“There are two Jeeps near the beach,” she continued. What else could she tell him? “Three guards are outside this building right now. I have no idea about perimeter security. I’m sorry I don’t know more.”
“No, that’s good info.” Dan rested his head against the wall. “But if we can find a way out of here, we need to wait until the majority of the men are asleep. I can probably handle three, but not ten or more. Not without weapons of my own.”
He could probably handle three? She wasn’t sure she even wanted to think about the type of experience it would take to know that.
“Even if we escape somehow, what about the children?” she asked. “According to Flore, they’re supposed to be flown out tomorrow morning.”
“How many kids are there?”
“Eight. Other than Flore, they range from four months to three years old.”
He looked grim. “It’s safer to leave them here until we can get the reinforcements we need to rescue them.”
Her jaw dropped. “
No.
” She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice. “I can’t abandon them to these men. The rebels are barely providing the basic necessities.” An even worse thought occurred to her. “And what if we do escape and then Nillin moves the kids? We might not find them before they’re taken off the island. We might never find them again.”
A deep sigh escaped his lips. “I understand, I really do, but we’re more likely to get caught if we try to take the children with us. If that happens, we’ll all be worse off, with no chance to get help.”
Her heart twisted. She wanted her freedom desperately, but she couldn’t go without Flore and the others. She’d never forgive herself if she did and they were sold before she could save them. No matter what she’d told Flore, she didn’t believe they’d be better off in their new homes. Especially the children who had local families just waiting for their finances to improve before bringing them home.
“Look,” Dan said. “This is all irrelevant unless we actually get out of here, so why don’t we focus our efforts there? We can work out the rest when we need to.”
“Fine.” There wasn’t much chance of it happening anyway, which if she thought about it only made her want to crawl up into a ball and sleep. Or cry.
Instead, she turned her attention to her shackles. The guard hadn’t bound her feet, but her handcuffs were solid, as was the chain. She inspected each link that she could see, but found no gaps or thin spots.
“How secure is the bolt in the wall on your side?” Dan asked.
She glanced back as she tugged, but it didn’t budge. “It looks pretty well stuck.” Yanking it with her fingertips didn’t produce any promising results either.
“Mine moved some during the earthquake when I pulled. I’m going to see if I can use the plate as leverage.” He got to his feet and squatted with his back to the fastener, going up on his toes to brace his heels against the wall.
Reaching behind him, he gripped the square piece of metal and yanked it toward his back. It hit the bolt with a dull
clank
.
“That’s too loud,” she said. “They might come investigate.”
“Yeah.
Shit
.” He dropped to his knees and relaxed for a few seconds. “Maybe if I work it side to side.” His gaze dropped to the floor in concentration as he shimmied left and right.
Unable to do anything useful, Alexa watched his magnificent body work. He strained and flexed, the deep shadows emphasizing the cut of his muscles. He was like a work of human art, and though his body wasn’t the main reason she found him so appealing, it was a fabulous icing on the whole Dan Molina cake.
He stopped and raised his head. “I think I’m getting somewhere.”
She felt a blush rise up her cheeks, but hopefully he couldn’t tell in the faint light. As the twilight dimmed, dull, yellowish light from the camp seeped into the cell through the gap along the upper walls.
“There’s brick dust on the floor,” he said, his voice rich with excitement. “Maybe if I work the bolt with my fingers…” His eyes squeezed shut and his arms tensed. “Got it!” He stood and swiveled to show her the chain in his hands, a huge grin on his face. “Time to work on you.”
Her stupid heart swooned. She knew what he meant, but that smile, that body, that intense look…
The sound of a key sliding into the lock on the door disrupted her wayward thoughts.
Dan jumped between her and the entrance and flattened himself against the wall. “Whatever happens, stay down.”
She was still processing his command when the door swung open. He kicked the side of the guard’s leg and sent the unsuspecting man to the ground with a howl. Dropping to his knees, Dan snatched the man’s rifle, holding it awkwardly behind his back but aimed at the now writhing, keening rebel.
Agitated voices rose up outside, speaking in a heavy kweyol accent she struggled to decipher.
Dan sidled up to the edge of the doorway, taking cover behind the thick wall while aiming the weapon outside. “Drop your weapons or I’ll shoot,” he said.
She heard swearing and the clatter of rifles against the ground.
“Get in here.”
A few seconds later, two of the men who’d accompanied her and Nillin to the children’s room entered the cell. Anger blazed in their eyes and held their mouths rigid. Dan motioned them to drag their friend to the wall and sit, and they complied with murder in their expressions.
“Who has the key to the handcuffs?”
The man wearing a white polo shirt ground his jaw, but finally dug a ring of keys from his pocket and held it out.
“Unlock her. And if you try anything, I’ll blow your fucking head off.” His face was ruthless and hard. Menacing.
Alexa shuddered as she scooted away from the wall to give Polo Man room to remove her bindings. The guard smelled of sweat and fear as he crouched next to her.
She steeled herself for him to grab her for use as leverage or a human shield, but he didn’t. He just undid the cuffs and backed away without meeting her eyes. It was easy to forget how young some of these guys really were. Late teens or early twenties, and many had been forced into the rebel army at a young age. Which earned them her pity, but not her trust.