Rescuing Rayne (15 page)

Read Rescuing Rayne Online

Authors: Susan Stoker

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Military, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

Chapter Twenty

R
ayne yanked at her chains
, trying to slip her hands out of the metal cuffs, to no avail. The blood on her wrists and ankles from her struggles helped her to almost free herself, but her hands and feet weren’t quite small enough to slip out of the shackles, even with the extra lubricant. No matter how hard she pulled and twisted, she was stuck.

She’d woken up, realized she was alone and immediately started trying to escape. She’d gotten a reprieve, but had no idea how long it might last. Moshe and his sick relatives could be back any moment.

The dust was thick in the air, making it difficult to draw in a deep breath, and the rubble from the ceiling and the walls, which had crumbled in places during the explosions, was covering the floor and the bed. The door had come off its hinges and was partially blocking the entryway into the room.

Rayne would’ve yelled for help, only she was afraid of whose attention she would gain by doing so. The absolute last thing she wanted was to have Moshe show back up to complete his barbaric ritual, and lying there in her bra and panties meant she wasn’t exactly dressed for anyone else to see her either.

She lay back and tried to catch her breath. What could she do? How in the hell was she getting out of this one? Her legs were spread open and the iron shackles around her wrists and ankles didn’t give her much, if any, wiggle room.

Hopefully the explosions were the results of the good guys. She had no way of knowing, however. The bottom line was that she couldn’t do anything but lay there and wait for someone to unlock her chains. She was stuck.

Every now and then, Rayne would hear a faint echo through the walls of her prison. Was it the good guys? Was it the bad guys? She had no idea. Eventually the sounds would fade and she’d be back to feeling utterly alone again.

She was doing pretty good until she heard the gunshots.

Rayne began to panic, once again pulling frantically at her chains. She needed to get out of here—now. She couldn’t wait one second more. Her wrists and ankles didn’t even hurt anymore, she barely felt the skin tearing further, or the fresh blood that slowly dripped out of the jagged wounds the metal was leaving with every tug. It didn’t matter. She was going to die one way or another, and she much preferred it be on her terms instead of the terrorists’.

G
host held up his hand
, letting Wolf know to stop. They’d informed the rest of the teams they were coming in and were assisting in the search for the missing woman. They’d started on the third floor, since that was where the woman, Sarah, had said she’d last seen Rayne. Beatle was on the second floor, clearing the building as he went.

Methodically they’d cleared room after room in the east wing. They’d only run into three people. Two men and a boy. They’d been hunkered down in a room at the far end of the hallway. Ghost wasn’t willing to give anyone a chance—not now, not when Rayne’s life may or may not be in the palm of his hand.

After the air cleared, Ghost absently noted, as Wolf searched their pockets, that all three were holding rifles and that the young boy’s pants were undone. He had no idea what
that
meant, but standing there wondering was only wasting time. Rayne was somewhere in this building and he had to find her. He knew he’d feel jittery and out of sorts until he saw with his own eyes that she was alive and unhurt.

Wolf finished his search of the dead men and he and Ghost continued down the hall, clearing rooms, some reduced to nothing more than rubble. At the other end of the hall, closest to where one of the last explosives had been set, the men saw a door hanging on to the doorframe by the upper hinge. It was diagonal across the doorway, blocking it so they couldn’t make a stealthy or easy entrance.

Ghost looked at Wolf and held up three fingers. Wolf nodded and stood on one side of the ruined door as Ghost took a position on the other side. The men nodded at each other as Ghost counted down on his fingers. Three. Two. One.

They burst into the room at the same time, rifles drawn and ready to take down anyone who might be hiding inside, just as they had for the countless rooms they’d already cleared in the long hallway.

A feminine screech greeted them as they made entry into the small room. Ghost and Wolf turned as one to the bed, rifles aimed and ready to fire. Wolf was the first to raise the barrel of his rifle up and away from the sight before them.

Ghost was only seconds behind him, but had his rifle slung over his back and was on his knees at the side of the bed before Wolf moved.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” The words were quiet and heartfelt and something inside Ghost died when Rayne flinched away from him as he got close.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me, God, please, don’t.”

Ghost didn’t turn toward Wolf, but heard his muttered curse.

It
was
his Rayne. She’d been chained with her arms above her head and her legs spread apart. There was blood staining the mattress under her. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything in the room, including her. She lay on the filthy mattress in only her bra and panties. As much as he hated seeing her barely clothed, Ghost was thankful she was still wearing something. A small consolation, but he was relieved nevertheless.

She was breathing hard, as if she’d just run for miles, and her eyes were fully dilated with shock and terror. The chains holding her prisoner rattled as she tried to jerk away from him when he reached his hand out to her.

Ghost knew he’d never forget the sight of her—chained, bleeding, and helpless—for as long as he lived. He’d dreamed about seeing her again, about what their reunion might be like, but this was something out of a nightmare.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be fine. We’re American soldiers and we’re going to get you out of here.” For now, that’s all she needed to know. He was wearing black from head to toe, and had black face paint on. If she looked closely, she’d probably recognize him, but she was simply too full of panic and adrenaline to know who he was at this point.

Ghost could see his words slowly sink in and saw the second she forcibly stopped herself from giving in to a full-blown panic attack. Whether it was the English words coming out of his mouth, or just plain ol’ desperation, Rayne calmed and turned toward him with a blank look in her eyes. Seeing him, but not really seeing
him
.

“Please, get these off me, please. He’s coming back. He said he’d be back. Get me out of here. He’s coming back to be a man. Please, get them off.”

Ghost looked down to see Wolf studying the chains and the cuffs circling her delicate ankles. He didn’t understand Rayne’s words, but it didn’t matter. He
was
getting her the fuck out of there. “No one will put their hands on you. We’ll get you out of here, Princess, hang on just a little longer for me. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Ghost noticed her body go stock-still, but didn’t have time to do anything because Wolf said from her feet, “Ghost, I don’t have the tools for this on me.”

“Fuck, okay, let me see what I’ve got in my pack.”

Ghost reached a hand into the pocket of his uniform pants. They were deep and he always stuffed them full of as much crap as he could, just in case. He’d found over the years the littlest thing could make the difference between life and death. A bobby pin once saved him and his entire team from being slaughtered deep in the heart of some Afghani hellhole.

Ghost was mentally reviewing what he might have that would work to pick the locks on the chains around Rayne’s arms and legs, when he heard her disbelieving voice.

“Ghost?
My
Ghost?”

Jesus, her words made his chest physically hurt. Ghost put a hand up to his chest to rub it before he even thought about what he was doing.

Hers. Yes. He was hers.

Blade broke through his consciousness even as he was opening his mouth to agree with and reassure Rayne. His voice came over their radios, low and urgent. “Incoming. Looks as though there are two large groups of tangos on their way in. You’ve got ten minutes, tops. Then get out of there. Copy?”

Wolf answered even as Ghost continued his search for a tool to pick the locks around Rayne’s extremities. “Copy. Found the missing package. It’s going to take longer than ten minutes for extraction. Over.”

“Negative,” Blade insisted. “They’ve got RPGs and they look pissed.”

“Copy.” Wolf didn’t say anything more, but leaned down to see if he could break the bedframe. They’d worry about the chains later if they had to.

“Oh God, they’re coming?” She couldn’t hear the conversation between Blade and the rest of the teams in the building, but she’d obviously inferred enough from Wolf’s side of the conversation. “Please, get me out of here, cut off my hands and feet if you have to, just don’t leave me here.” Rayne frantically yanked on the chains, trying once again to pull herself free.

Ghost could physically feel her panic. Cut off her hands and feet? No way in hell. He put his hands on her thrashing head and held her still. He leaned over her and put his face as close to hers as he dared. “Calm, Princess. We aren’t going to leave you here. Got it? We. Aren’t. Leaving.
I’m
not leaving.”

“Ghost? It’s really you? I don’t understand. I thought I dreamed you. I was wishing you were here, keeping me safe, and now you are. Am I still dreaming? Am I dying? Shit, you’re a hallucination, aren’t you?”

“I’m no hallucination. I’m really here. Now, stay calm while we figure this out, okay?”

She nodded and swallowed hard. Ghost’s respect for her grew. She was obviously scared out of her mind, but she was trying to control it for now.

Her voice was a bit less panicked but no less serious when she spoke again. “Seriously though…cut ’em off if you have to…I can’t feel my hands or feet anyway. I’d rather that than be left here. I’d have already done it if I had a knife and a hand free. I know what an animal caught in a trap feels like now. Remember that story of the guy who was trapped when a rock fell on his arm when he was climbing? I don’t remember all the details now, I think they made a movie out of it, but he cut off his arm so he could get out and get some help. I didn’t get it…until now. So please, I promise I won’t even feel it. Cut them off. Just get me out of here. Please, Ghost, please.”

Ghost ignored her except to say, “Shhhhh, we’re getting you out of here.”

One, he wasn’t leaving her, and two, he sure as fuck wasn’t cutting off her hands and feet in order to get her out of this hellhole. He couldn’t even believe the amount of bravery—and terror—it took to even suggest it in the first place. He hated she was in this predicament.
Hated
it.

He reached into his left pocket and came out with a Swiss Army Knife. He turned to Wolf. “This is the best I got. Damn, I wish Truck was here, he’s the locksmith of our team.”

“Benny’s ours. I’d kill for a pick right about now,” Wolf said absently as he leaned over Rayne’s feet and quickly went to work on the lock with the knife Ghost had handed him.

Ghost looked at Rayne’s wrists closely for the first time. “Oh, Princess…your wrists…you fought them hard, didn’t you?”

The cuff and chain the bastards had used to imprison her and to keep her immobile were rusty, and dirty from the crumbling walls and ceiling, and now covered in Rayne’s blood. Her struggles had not only ground the rust and dirt into her wounds, it had also caused the metal chains to bite deep into her wrists. She’d obviously been struggling vigorously in her panic for a while, because from what Ghost could see, she’d done quite a number on her skin.

“If you can’t get them off, will you leave me a knife before you go?”

“What?”

“A knife—no, wait, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Can you please just shoot me in the head before you have to leave? I’d rather die here and now than go through what they had planned for me.”

Ghost knew he should be doing something to try to get her free, but he couldn’t. Every word out of her mouth tore through his soul. He had no idea what had happened to her in this torture chamber, but whatever it was had made her completely panic. Her only thought was to escape. Rayne didn’t look like she’d been violated, her panties were still in place and he couldn’t see any blood, but Ghost knew it was certainly still a possibility.

Before he completely lost his cool, he put one gloved hand on her forehead and opened his mouth to speak, to reassure her, when she continued, sobbing.

“Please, you guys need to go, don’t get caught here. These guys are crazy; they won’t hesitate to kill you. You don’t have time to get me loose. It’s okay, just go…I lost you once, Ghost. I couldn’t bear to watch them kill you. I have to know you’re okay.”

“Shhhh, Princess. I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ghost repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. “We’re all going to get out of here.” Her thoughts were all over the place, first pleading for them not to leave her then ordering them to go. Ghost knew it was shock and fear, but he hated to see her this way.

“No good, Ghost,” Wolf said in a frustrated voice at his feet.

Ghost turned his head and looked at his teammate for the mission.

Wolf held up the knife. “It’s not skinny enough; I can’t get the pins to turn. I need something smaller.”

Ghost stood up and went to the head of the bed. “What if we kicked in the slats and took the chains with us?”

“I thought about that earlier. It’s worth a try. If we can’t get the locks undone it’s the only solution besides taking the entire bed with us.”

“We’ll take the entire fucking thing if this doesn’t work,” Ghost muttered under his breath, knowing it would be awkward at best, and incredibly dangerous and stupid at worst, to try to escape in the middle of a terrorist coup carrying a bed with a wounded and terrified woman on it. It’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. They’d be sitting ducks.

“I have something that might work.”

Wolf and Ghost turned to look at Rayne incredulously.

“What?” Wolf asked in an impatient tone, finding his voice before Ghost could. Time was running out. Neither of them wanted to look down the barrel of a shoulder launcher at a rocket-propelled grenade. They’d all be on the losing end of that confrontation.

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