Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 10) (21 page)

Gritting her teeth, she bit back the urge to scream at him as he retreated. Anger replaced the fear, burning deep inside her, fueled by the helplessness, the sense of being confined. These assholes were going to kill her while penned up like an animal? They were weak and gutless, afraid to let her out and fight back.

A sharp beeping noise startled her out of her thoughts. Her head jerked toward the clock on the front of her cage, heart thundering. Another loud beeping came from over near the stage area.

The clocks. They were almost at zero. Less than two minutes left.

No. Oh my God, no…

She tore her gaze away from the clocks in time to see Hadad step out of the glare in the center of the building. She knew it was him, from his build and the swagger in his gait.

He was walking toward her. Carrying something in one hand. Something square-shaped, about the size of—

“Ah, you’re awake,” he called out to her. “Good.”

Every second that passed was its own separate torture, each of his footsteps seeming to echo off the sides of the building. Behind him she could see his men moving around, readying the camera. She could just make out the shape of two other cages on either side of the far end.

Jim and Mark.

Her gaze jerked back to Hadad. He advanced on her at a leisurely pace. What was in his hand?

She was on her feet without even realizing she’d moved. There was no thought, just instinct. Her knees felt weak as she stood there, every cell in her body screaming at her to run, run.

But there was nowhere to go, no way out.

Hadad stopped about ten yards from her cage and set whatever was in his hand on the ground. Straightening, he stood there, his silhouette blocking most of the light. She couldn’t make out his expression but she could hear the smugness in his voice as he spoke.

“I’ve decided to save you for last. That way you’ll get to see the whole show first.”

So she’d have even more time to be terrified of what was coming.

Rage built, obliterating everything. Without thinking she lunged for the front of the cage, teeth bared, and curled her hands around the iron bars. If he’d have been within range she would have clawed his face off.

“Fuck you,” she spat, her chest heaving as the fury rolled through her. It felt so much better than the blank terror that had eclipsed her a minute ago.

His low, evil chuckle sent a chill skittering over her skin. “Your time’s up, Summer Blackwell. May your God have mercy on your soul.”

Without another word he turned and walked away, moving out of the light so that it blinded her. She threw up a hand to shield her eyes, too late.

“Get the camera started,” he called out to his men.

Shaking all over, she gripped the bars and dropped her gaze to the object he’d left on the ground. When she saw what it was, a cry ripped from her chest. Her skin shriveled in horrified revulsion.

A can of gasoline.

They were going to douse her and the others with gas then set them on fire and film them while they burned alive.

Summer’s heart lodged halfway up her throat as she watched Hadad position himself next to the camera his men had set up on the tripod. He stood with his feet braced apart and arms folded across his chest, his expression completely impassive while one of his men reached for another can of gasoline and started toward the cage Mark was in.

“No
,”
she cried, her entire body numb, bloodless fingers clamped around the cold iron bars, her mind refusing to accept what was happening right in front of her.

Except it was. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Mark scrambled to his feet and pressed back against the rear of his cage, his only option. They’d removed his hood too, and unbound his hands and feet.

So he could see exactly what was coming. So
all
of them could see what was coming.

“Fucking
animals
,” she screamed at them, yanking futilely on the bars holding her prisoner.

Mark yelled out something and shielded his face with his arms as the fighter stopped in front of his cage and began splashing the gasoline through the bars. It hit Mark’s head and arms, soaked his torso and legs, darkening the orange jumpsuit.

No. No, please
, she begged, praying with all her might. This couldn’t happen. It was beyond cruel.

Hadad didn’t move from his position, watching everything with a closed expression and his arms crossed over his chest. Another man stood behind the camera, capturing every moment on film.

“Don’t!” Mark shouted, shaking his head as he cowered in the corner of his cage, eyes wide with a terror she could feel from the other end of the building. “For God’s sake, no!”

“Stop!” she yelled, enraged, shaking all over. “Let him go, you fucking
evil
assholes!”

No one even glanced her way at the outburst. And then, before she could utter another word, another fighter stepped up, lit a match and tossed it inside.

The gas ignited with an audible whoosh, completely engulfing Mark in flames.

****

The steady beat of the Blackhawk’s rotors pulsed against Adam’s ears as they flew through the pre-dawn darkness toward their target. Cold air rushed in the open doors, his NVGs giving him a spotty view through the storm of the hilly terrain below.

Visibility was decreasing fast. They had a short window to work with before the worst of the sandstorm hit. The helo could fly in it but the pilots would have a hell of a time navigating even with the advanced avionics.

Adam wasn’t worried about the extraction window. The only one he cared about was the one that was rapidly closing in on the deadline that would mark the end of Summer’s life. He was desperate to get to her before that. He’d do fucking anything to save her, wished he could trade places with her.

The Jordanian pilot’s voice came through the headset, his English perfect. “Two minutes to LZ.”

To maximize the element of surprise, they had to insert about a mile from the village, and hump it in on foot. Not ideal but the last thing they wanted to do was risk the hostages’ lives by alerting the captors to their presence and the Blackhawk’s powerful twin engines weren’t exactly quiet. And this way the noise of the wind would help disguise their arrival as well.

The guys all checked their gear one last time and settled back to wait the final seconds. They flew over the landing zone once, to ensure it was clear of enemy fighters, even though the sniper team on the ground had already reported the area was safe.

Circling back, the pilots lowered into a hover. When Colebrook’s voice came through their comms announcing the perimeter was secure, Tuck led the way off the helo.

Adam jumped out after Vance and raced for the ridge that ran along the top of the valley below the village they needed to get to. Sand and grit scoured his face but his goggles protected his eyes. He had a clear view of his team as they rushed across the LZ and met up with Colebrook and his spotter.

The dark-haired agent waited near the ridge, close to where his spotter lay prone on the rocky ground, his gaze trained through his binos at the village above. “Three guards keep circling the perimeter,” Colebrook told them. “Except for one guy, nobody else has come in or out of any of the buildings since we’ve been here. There’s another group of fighters lower down in the valley,” he added, pointing his thumb behind them. “They haven’t moved yet but we’re keeping an eye on them.”

Adam glanced at his watch. They had less than two minutes to infiltrate the village and storm the main building to free the hostages before the deadline hit. There was no way that was going to happen. He was strung tight, every muscle in his body locked, frantic to get moving.

“We need you guys to provide overwatch while we get in position,” Tuck told Colebrook. “On my signal, take out the guards. Then we’ll handle the breach.”

“You got it,” the sniper team leader replied instantly, then got on comms and informed his guys of what was going to happen. Colebrook looked back at Tuck a few moments later and nodded once, his hazel eyes intense. “We’re ready. Go get ‘em.”

Tuck waved them forward. “Let’s haul ass.”

Adam swung into line behind Vance’s big frame as the assault team headed up the ridge. The climb was steep, their boots slipping as they clambered up over loose rock and dirt while the wind gusted around them. They stayed off the footpaths worn into the hill, where the enemy would be watching. At the top, they paused as Tuck and Cruzie took stock.

“Forty yards to the target building,” Tuck murmured over the comm. “Stand by.” He waited a few seconds, then signaled Colebrook.

The sniper teams fired, taking out the exterior guards.

“Guards down,” Tuck confirmed a moment later. “
Go
.”

Adam pushed his body up and over the edge of the ridge and shoved to his feet, taking off at a dead run behind Vance.

They were seconds away from the front of the building when he heard it. The sound of bloodcurdling screams coming from inside.

Even though he’d never heard her make that sound before, Adam knew it was Summer. The hair on the back of his arms stood up and his stomach plummeted.

Oh my God, we’re too late.
Too fucking late.

The horrifying spectacle playing out before her was already permanently seared into Summer’s brain.

She screamed over and over at the top of her lungs, the sound shrill and filled with all the revulsion and shock she felt, unable to stop. Her skin crawled, chill after chill racing over her body. She kept waiting to wake up and discover this was nothing but a horrible, vivid nightmare.

But this was no dream. And even though she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. She was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to even close her eyes to block out the hideous sight.

Mark was on fire in front of her. His agonized, panicked screams were filled with such raw terror that bile rushed up her throat, her heart so full of grief it felt like it might explode.

He was rolling around on the ground in his cage, twisting back and forth in the dirt in an effort to smother the flames. Instead, the gas soaked into the ground ignited while Mark’s executioners stood around enjoying the show.

There was no escape for him, no matter which way he rolled. No reprieve from the unbearable agony he suffered as the flames blistered his skin and bit deep, stripping away the flesh from his bones.

She caught a glimpse of his face through the flickering flames as he struggled to his feet, his arms flailing, and wished she’d turned away. His face was already blackened, unrecognizable as human.

She was crying now. Deep, racking sobs that shook her entire body. She could feel the wetness of tears tracking down her cheeks, her chest and shoulders jerking with the force of her sobs. All to no avail.

These men had no mercy. No compassion.

As the seconds passed Mark’s screams grew quieter, then stopped altogether. A few seconds after that, he ceased struggling.

He fell to his knees in the dirt, toppled onto his stomach and lay facedown in the flaming dirt. His legs twitched once, twice. Then his body lay eerily still as the voracious flames consumed what was left of him.

And the entire time Summer stared in horror, she knew it was only a matter of minutes before she suffered that same horrific death.

Something inside her broke, the horror of it too much to process.

Unable to look at Mark’s body a moment longer, she covered her eyes with her hands and turned away, sinking to her knees in the dirt. The crackling of the flames and the stench of burning flesh made her sick to her stomach.

She gagged, swallowed the bile back down and huddled there with her arms wrapped around herself, trembling all over, teeth chattering with the force of it.

I can’t die like that
, she kept thinking frantically.
I can’t.
She couldn’t bear it.

A sharp popping noise slowly penetrated the layer of numbness encasing her. Then the sound of men’s voices inside the building. Urgent. Shouts of alarm.

Her head came up. She blinked to clear her vision, her heart jolting when she saw men scrambling from the front of the building, all grabbing weapons.

Then it hit her. Gunfire. Someone was shooting outside, and the men were alarmed.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as a fragile seed of hope took root deep inside her. Was it a rescue force? Had Adam received and understood her message? She didn’t even care who had found them or how, she just wanted out of this cage, to be taken away from this horrific place.

She wanted to
live
and to see Adam again.

Summer stared through the smoky air in the direction those shots were coming from.
Please let me live. Please…

Just as the bubble of hope began to inflate in her chest, a man rushed through the veil of smoke obscuring the far end of the building. He hurried straight toward her with a focused look on his face that made the blood drain from her face.

She scrambled to her feet and balanced her weight on the balls of her feet to at least give her a chance at dodging what was coming. When he reached her, the man bent down to grab the can of gasoline.

White hot rage suffused her as she realized what was happening. They were in a rush to kill her quickly, before the rescuers could reach them.

Every hair on her body stood up in ferocious denial
. I’m not going to die with help just on the other side of that wall
, she vowed, steeling herself for the fight of her life.

The man raised the can, tried to slosh the contents on her. She dodged the stream, the liquid barely missing her as it puddled on the ground instead. The pungent smell of gasoline surrounded her, burning her nostrils and throat. She coughed, shrank away from the deadly fluid.

Her captor grunted in annoyance and tried again, stepping closer to the bars this time.

And suddenly, she knew. Her only shot at surviving was here and now.