The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1) (3 page)

The soldier had a backpack, which was full of stuff. He had a gun strapped across his chest, and two more at his hips. He wore camo fatigues, black boots, a dark bandana on his head, and night vision goggles over his eyes. That’s why he could move around the cell as if it were daylight. He had her in his sights. There was nothing, no ugly detail of her captivity, that he did not now know.

Who was he? She had no idea. She didn’t know
all the names of her father’s men.

He suddenly turned,
leading her up a stairwell. He moved with such speed and assurance, she trusted he knew exactly where he was going, what he was doing, and had a definite plan in mind. Then he abruptly stopped before a window, becoming so eerily silent, he could have been a ghost.

She felt as helpless as a newborn. Barefoot, almost naked, malnourished, and weak, she
tried to stand on shaky legs she hadn’t used in days. She was exhausted, scared, and had no clue where they were or how to get out. She had to trust her life to this stranger.

He swung her forcibly behind him, jarring her, and startling her with the sudden man handling. Then she heard footsteps trailing behind them. Was her escape discovered? But the footfalls were not racing, but rather a slow, clomp-clomp, indicating a steady, unhurried walk. Not the frantic pace of someone in hot pursuit.

She held her breath. What now? The footsteps reached the step where she and the soldier hid behind the wall for the next flight of stairs. Before whoever was walking
could see him, the soldier effortlessly overtook the man in his arms, putting one arm around his neck, and the other on his torso. Then, without a sound, or a second’s hesitation, the man’s neck snapped and he crumbled to the ground on the stairwell. Again, with no hesitation, and not even a blink at the dead man, the soldier started up the stairs, gesturing for Jessie to follow.

They climbed the stairs and
went through another old door, which led to the top of the building. Once on top of the flattened, dusty roof, he started running, and seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go.

All at once
, he stopped, causing her to bump into his back. Before she understood what was happening, he threw her to the ground, and her head hit the concrete parapet that circled the roof, as her gun clattered out of reach. He was right on top of her. She struggled at first in confusion, when a wave of vertigo hit her.
What the hell was he doing?
He put his hand over her mouth, and pressed his knees into her legs, stilling her. She was completely pinned beneath the soldier. Panic filled her veins, then her brain, and her entire body. Oh God, not again. Did she just leave one hell for another?

“We’ve been made. Do you get it? Quit struggling. I’m trying to save your fucking life.”

She quit moving and instantly froze. Listening carefully, she could barely decipher what his supersonic hearing already detected: movement down below her. Muffled calls, and the stomping of boots on the ground. Language she recognized and heard during her captivity, but had no idea what it meant, was being bantered in frenzied calls. She whimpered in terror. It sounded like there was an entire army moving below her.

“We can only survive as long as no one realizes I’m here.”

She jerked at the soft curse whispered in her ear. Although she was up close to the soldier now, she couldn’t make out his features
, he wore deep streaks of camo paint on his face. He literally looked to her like Rambo coming through the jungle. Except this wasn’t fake, and it wasn’t any movie, this was real, and happening to her. The guns were real. The knives were sharp. And men wanted to hurt her, even kill her. But why? Why her?

The soldier was beginning to crush her with his belt full of knives, guns, and grenades. As far as she could tell, he was a one-man army. All of the weapons dug into her stomach, her thighs, and her chest. She couldn’t breathe, or see anything. Nothing. She was going to be sick, and
all the while the yelling was coming closer.

Her heart plummeted. They were searching the building.

How long before they found her? She was lying on an unprotected corner of the rooftop. There was barely any cover. How long before the gallant soldier got off her and ran? No doubt, he could get away from here, especially if he were alone and unencumbered by her. He could probably repel off the building, or jump into the wind, or do some other super hero tactic. How long before she got dragged back into the black pit where they kept her? What more could they do to her? Maybe they’d just shoot her this time, and put her out of her misery.

Tears streamed down her face silently.
Forgotten
. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She almost welcomed her demise, which, she believed, was about to come. She couldn’t take it anymore: the fear, the terror, the brutality. At least, it would all end shortly. Her fear began choking her so intensely, the soldier might as well have wrapped his gloved hands around her neck and squeezed with all his might.

But he wasn’t doing that. She was having a full-blown anxiety attack. The world spun, as her breath stopped, and she gasped for air. Everything felt wrong. So wrong, she couldn’t breathe, move, or see.

“What the fuck?”

She opened her eyes at the soldier’s unexpected, harsh curse. The soldier looked down between them, then back up at her. Comprehension sparked as his eyes widened. She just wet her pants. And his leg. He jerked back in surprise, before leaning over her again and sighing.

“You’re scared. Of course, you’re scared,” he seemed to be speaking to himself. He
slightly pulled back, as he grabbed something from his belt. “Listen to me now. They’ll have to go through me to get to you. I’m not that easy to kill. But if something happens, stay under me and pretend you’re dead. If anyone gets close enough, take this knife and plunge it into his neck. You hear me? As hard and deeply as you can. Then you take my guns, and the phone in my left pocket. Don’t forget the phone. Got it? There’s a door, about three hundred feet south, use the gun to blow the lock off. It will take you to the street. Then get out of here. Run. Hide. Call the number on the phone. You won’t be alone long.”

Her body trembled, nearly convulsing.
“I can’t. I mean, I couldn’t. I’m going to die here.”

“You can and will because you have to. We’re not dying here.”

“I already did,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said quietly with a solemn gaze at her. Then he added, “This is my job
, Ms. Bains, and I’m really good at it. I’ll get you out of here.”

He suddenly tensed again. She heard the scrape of a heavy steel door opening. Footsteps. Running. Voices again. She waited to be spotted. It was dark up there, nearly black as her cell. Barely hidden behind a small lip of concrete and the edge of the building, they dared not move.
If one of them fell, it was five stories to the ground.

She couldn’t wait. “What are you going to do?” she scarcely breathed the question.

“Shoot them,” he answered. She could feel his massive muscles stop and tense, priming for the conflict, and getting ready for whatever soldier stuff he expected next. At least, he hadn’t abandoned her… yet. In fact, he seemed prepared to serve as her human shield. Maybe he really wouldn’t repel off the building without taking her.

Two of the men walked over, and the spotlight one held swept over the rooftop. They seemed remarkably unworried.
They thought she was alone.
They must have presumed she somehow escaped alone. They had no clue about the lethal, silent soldier now on top of her. But she still had a hard time waiting. The tension of anticipation overcame her. She almost started screaming in fright. The soldier seemed to sense it, and his gloved hand came back over her mouth, muffling it. He moved slightly, and lifted his right hand over her head. Then before the spotlight illuminated them, he did just as he promised: he shot them. She heard the repeated pops of the silenced gun. Their bodies fell, like bags of concrete being thrown to the ground.

Then the soldier got up, pulling her with him, and they ran as if flames of fire were lapping at their heels.
Racing to the door he told her about, that quickly, he shot the door handle off. In they went, down more stairs, before emerging into an alleyway. He went first, dragging her behind him. She stumbled, but obediently followed. Finally, they were away from the cursed building. They sensed movement in the area, and carefully followed the dark corners of the alley, before going down the street.

Jessie was appalled at the realization she was being held captive in a building smack dab in the middle of a city. Right in middle of a bustling city, she was chained, abused, and tortured, despite all the people who were around h
er, on normal every day streets.

Then, the soldier swiftly pushed her into an old wreck of a car. It was yellow and rusted, and barely big enough to contain two adults and the soldier’s personal arsenal. But they jumped in, started it up, and left the building where he killed four men.

Not a word was exchanged. The soldier drove fast, but remained cautious. There were only a few people outside. It appeared to be a dark, undesirable neighborhood, but after the hole she’d been living in, it
was more like a sunny park. The soldier’s face was hidden in the shadows of his face paint. She observed his jaw locked in concentration while he drove.

H
e pulled into a parking spot beside a rundown motel. He looked around stealthily before getting out, then grabbed his arsenal and her. In an instant, they were locked inside a crappy, vacant, anonymous motel room.

It all took less than an hour.

Jessie stood there, unable to move. She stared at the two queen beds and center nightstand, as well as the flimsy dresser and bolted-down, old television. She finally raised her eyes to the man beside her. He took off the pack he was wearing. “That’s it?” Jessie
whispered.

“That’s it,” he answered without
glancing at her. He was rifling around in his pack, rearranging it, and his guns. God, after killing four men in a freaky escape like they just accomplished, how could he remain so unruffled?

“We’re out? Just like that? And you’re sure no one will find us here?”

“No. No one will find us.”

She had only about a thousand questions, but she was alive and free. Her legs buckled, and she dropped her body onto the dingy bedspread. Her head fell into her hands as tears filled her eyes and choked her throat. She was
alive.

Lowering her hands, she asked
, “Where are the other soldiers?”

“There are no others.”

Her head jerked up. “My father sent you here alone? Why didn’t you say no? My God! It could have been a death sentence.”

“It was do-able, so I did it. Your father couldn’t send a unit in. It had to be civilian. I’m here as a family friend, and just happened to find you. Get me?”

She didn’t get him at all. Her father sent only one man to rescue her? How did he know where she was? She didn’t even know where she was or why. “What next?”

“Next? We sleep, and eat. Tomorrow, we drive
to the airport and go home. I’ve got all your paperwork.”

She shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes. No food. Not yet. Maybe not ever again. Her stomach cramped at the thought of it.
“I can’t eat. And what do you mean we go home? As if we were on vacation in Mexico?”

“Exactly as if.”

She paused to look at the man before her. He was much more fierce looking now against the wallpapered background of
the cheap motel room. Big, muscled, with broad shoulders, heavy dark boots, and his clothes as well as his head covered in black and camo.

“Who are you?”

“Colonel Hendricks.”

“I mean as in Jack, Bob, Joe? What’s your name? Not your rank. Who are you?”

He stared. His eyes reflected little personality, and absolutely no warmth. “Will. Will Hendricks.”

“Will.” She
licked her lips before saying, “Thank you.”

“Not out yet.”

“Just tell me we will get out.”

“We’ll get out.”

“How did you get stuck on this mission?”

“Your father knew exactly where you were. It was only a problem of how to get you out. Your sister recommended me.”

She lifted her eyes to him. “You know my sister?”

“We served together.”

“Alone? They really sent you alone?”

“Limited resources. I don’t think your father was looking to start an international incident over one girl.”

Jessie dropped her head. No, of course not! Her father wouldn’t want to do that, even if the girl
was
his daughter.

“Do you have clothes for me?”

He nodded and tossed a duffel bag on the bed beside her. “Your sister packed it.”

She sighed. Her sister hated her
, but hopefully, she probably knew what to pack.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Jessie said. She had to be reminded she was still human, still a girl, still alive.

“Are you sure?”