Saving Brigit (15 page)

Three strange men had approached her. One of them squeezed her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. He peered at her and nodded. Her knees weakened when they removed the sack. They walked around, looking her up and down.

They untied her ankles. When one of the men felt between her legs, she tried to pull away. The two others grabbed her arms so the first could roughly push his finger up her pussy. She gasped in a breath. Honestly, had they thought she was trying to sneak something past them in
there
?

Apparently satisfied that Omar had indeed delivered what he claimed, they’d pulled the sack back over her head, thrown her into the back of their truck, and taken off, not too gently, over mountain roads. When they finally stopped, she’d been blindfolded and carried fireman-style to this room, where the blindfold was removed, and she’d been left to wait for something or someone.

The morning’s experience, though brief, drove home the fact that she was now totally in the control of ruthless men that thought her body was theirs. She was glad they couldn’t read her mind. It would take all the control she had to monitor her words and actions so that her enemy wouldn’t know their plans.

She examined the room again for any clues as to where she was. Three walls were gray concrete, while the door wall was stone. She recalled Derek’s saying the fortress was built into the mountain. The furnishings were spartan, consisting of a table and three chairs. In the corner was a toilet and sink. The space resembled what she always thought an interrogation room in the Gulag would be—no windows, totally cheerless, designed to inspire fear and kill hope.

The door opened, and a man in a white lab coat came in along with two guards. At Lab Coat’s order, one of the men untied her hands while the other stood back and watched. He was huge and menacing without saying a word or making a move. Lab Coat waited a moment while Thia stretched her arms. Pins shot through her muscles as feeling began to return, the pain seeming worse somehow than being tied up.

His face held no kindness. His lips were thin below a bushy moustache. He regarded her as one would any familiar object, not with interest or joy, only with acceptance.

The other two reminded her of Frick and Frack, interchangeable goons, with their dark eyes and skin, short beards and moustaches.

Lab Coat flicked his finger, and the man who had untied her wrapped the rope around her left arm and the chair.

Thia tried to control her fear, but her quick breathing gave her away. “What are you doing? Where am I?”

No one answered as the thug walked to her other side and held her right arm outstretched. Lab Coat produced a syringe and collection vials from his pocket. Thia pulled and twisted, but the guard held her arm tightly.

“Listen, you assholes, I’m an American citizen, and I demand to be taken to my embassy. Who’s in charge here? What do I—”

“Please calm yourself, or this will hurt,” Lab Coat said, bending to feel for a vein.

“I insist you stop right now,” Thia all but shouted. The needle plunged into her arm. Blood surged into the vial, but air refused to enter her lungs. For a few seconds, spots danced before her eyes, and she thought she’d faint.

Reality hit like a Mack truck. She’d allowed herself to be brought into hell. Sure, Rashid waited somewhere, ready and willing to help—if she could get word. And yes, Derek would move heaven and Earth to save her—when he could convince his superiors they
should
save her. But for now, she was alone, as she’d never been in her life.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Lab Coat murmured, pulling out the needle.

“Speak for yourself. Where’s the person who runs this place? I want answers. I want my niece, Brigit, and then I want transportation back to Islamabad. Do you hear me?”

“The whole compound hears you, probably.” Lab Coat covered the needle and placed the vials in his pocket along with the used syringe. The guard had released her left arm. She went to swing at him, but he stopped her handily.

“Stand,” Lab Coat ordered.

“Eat sand,” Thia retorted.

Lab Coat shrugged. The guard dragged her to her feet, then with one hand, grabbed the neckline of the sack covering her and yanked. The cheap material ripped down the front, leaving her exposed to the three men.

“You son of a bitch!” Thia tried to cover herself and move away at the same time, but the tight grip on her arm prevented either. Hunger flashed in the big guard’s eyes. Lab Coat’s expression remained dispassionate.

“I can perform this examination while you are unconscious, if you prefer,” Lab Coat said.

Thia heaved deep breaths, but stood still. “You’ll pay for this,” she ground out.

He ignored her. His examination was fast and thorough. Thia tried to avoid the interest of the big guard at the door as Lab Coat ran his hands over her body. She tried not to tremble, although she supposed some show of fear was expected of her. She hated giving these people anything of her true feelings. When he had her lean back on the table and spread her legs so he could cup her mound, though, she couldn’t help crying out.

“Look,” she said with a shaky voice, “I just came searching for my niece, Brigit. Do you know her? Have you seen her?”

Lab Coat straightened and used a baby wipe he pulled from his other pocket to swipe across his hands. He pointed to the toilet chair and said, “Pee.”

“Go to—” The words died in her throat as the big guard stepped forward, fire in his eyes.

Thia gulped, turned, and did as told. Funny, in the comfortable confines of her doctor’s office, with Muzak piped through hidden speakers and cheerful conversation floating through the door, she could never pee on demand. Here, she had no problem.
I guess fear has an upside after all.

At a nod from Lab Coat, the second guard picked up the bucket under the seat when she was finished. Together they left, the door guard turning and giving her a last greedy look before closing the door.

Naked and scared out of her mind, Thia clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. To think, a week or so ago, she’d blithely assured July she’d find Brigit and bring her home. She’d imagined herself capable of carrying out a search for a girl in a land she didn’t understand in the least, with help from a man she didn’t know. After one escapade with Derek, she’d thought she could handle being a private investigator, finding the right people, asking the right questions, safely bringing home the victim.

She’d been out of her frigging mind. Still, what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in stubbornness. Here she was, and here she was staying until she and Brigit found a way out or Derek came to get them.

The door opened. Thia turned to see a tall Arab man. Robes cloaked his body, loosely held at his waist with a strip of leather that tied at the side. More leather strips dangled from the belt and trailed down his leg. Each ended with a coarse, colored bead. Black leather gloves covered his hands, one of which carried a string of polished black beads. An animal claw hung from a leather thong around his neck. Not much of his face was exposed between a thick brown moustache and beard, but his dark cheeks were smooth. Striking, glittering, ebony eyes stared at her. Glacial described his expression. His head was covered in the traditional Arab headgear, with a ring of braided material holding the drape of white fabric in place. Could this be the Claw?

The same hulking giant who had accompanied the doctor entered behind the man. He closed the door while letting his gaze rake her body. His mouth formed an insolent smile. He stood back while the robed man strode farther into the room.

“Who are you?” Thia managed.

“Either your worst nightmare or the one person who can make your life bearable.” His voice was low, his English flawless, with only a slight accent.

“Oh.” She licked her lips. “Finally, a person who can make some decisions.” Thia took a breath and forced herself to think calmly. “
And
you understand English, thank God. Listen, first I want some clothes. Then I want you to understand why I came here, or rather to Pakistan. I don’t want trouble.” She smiled, forcing her lips into a curve.

“That is good. I also do not want trouble.”

“I came to Pakistan looking for my niece, Brigit Thatcher. She was visiting her boyfriend in Pakistan. When she didn’t come home, and I received no help from the government, I came to find her. I found her boyfriend easily enough, that bastard.” She stopped for breath and looked to judge how her story was being accepted.

His face showed no interest, but she plunged back into the tale. “Anyway, Omar must have drugged me because the next thing I know, I somehow ended up here, and I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.”

“
Here
is a world away from your safe life.”

Thia shivered at the truth of his words. “Look, like I said, I don’t want trouble. If you know Brigit and can help us get back to the embassy in Islamabad, I’ll gladly pay you.”

“The American, Brigit, is enjoying my hospitality and is perfectly safe. She never mentioned an aunt who might search for her, however.” The man peered at Thia, seeming to take in every inch of her body with his glance. “Omar told my men you were a prostitute, loose on the streets of Islamabad. He made no mention of the girl. Can you explain this discrepancy?”

“Omar is a lying son of a bitch who should rot in hell. I told him who I was and why I came to Pakistan. I have no idea what he told you or why. That isn’t my concern. Brigit is. Just send her to me and provide transportation to our embassy, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

The man laughed. “A woman of your maturity shouldn’t be so naïve.” He shifted his focus to the guard. “I thought Omar had been sent to Italy.”

“Those were his orders.”

“Then find out why he was still in Islamabad for this woman to find.”

The guard nodded and left the room. Thia relaxed somewhat, relieved of the greedy stare she felt even when she didn’t glance his way. But she was a long way from being safe. His master took her arm and pulled her to her feet.

He walked around her, appraising her body. “How old are you?”

“None of your business.”

With lightning speed, his hand whipped her bare legs with the leather thongs dangling from his waist. The unpolished beads stung like a thousand bees.

“Forty-one,” Thia said.

“Perhaps that is why he lied,” the man mused aloud. “He knew I wouldn’t accept a woman of your age unless you had the experience to service my clients well.”

“Service your…What in hell is this place?” Thia lied as well as she could. Any slip could signal big trouble for her and for Brigit.

The man faced her and studied her body once again with a heavy-lidded stare. “Not bad, really. If you show some spark, I believe I have clients who will overlook your advanced age. At least your breasts haven’t sagged yet.” He looked closer. “Of course, you have had help. The surgeon did a good job.”

“He should have. He charged enough.”

“You’ll do.” His lips flattened into a thin line. “
If
you are telling me the truth in all things. How old is Brigit?”

“Nineteen. Can I see her?”

“What of her parents? She said her father and mother are living. Why is it an aunt comes to find her?”

Shit.
Derek had told her not to let on that anyone was waiting at home for them. “When she went missing, her father suffered a heart attack and died. Her mother’s been sedated ever since. Her mother’s sister has her hands full. I decided to find her and bring her home.”

The man nodded, so Thia assumed her lie rang true to whatever Brigit had told them.

“Who knows where you are?”

“No one.” At the incredulous look the man shot her, she added, “I was the one who convinced her father to let her come over here with Omar. I was the one who said not to worry when they couldn’t reach her, that Brigit was a sensible girl. I’m partially responsible for her being in the Middle East, so by rights, I’m the one who should bring her home. It was easiest just to make the trip rather than continue to sit there and listen to why I was at fault for everything bad happening in the family. I left a note saying I had a business trip in the East for a week or so.”

His stare left her cold. “Just so you know, your decision was not a good one. Alas.” He snapped his fingers, and a man she hadn’t seen sprang from the corner with paper and pen. “You will write a note explaining you have been delayed and will remain in the East a few weeks longer.”

Once more the belt slapped her naked thigh and butt. Thia jumped at the stings. The man smiled grimly and then moved around the room.

“Tell me how you found Omar.”

Thia did, leaving out all references to Rashid. “When can I see Brigit?”

“Perhaps soon.” He stroked his beard. “Who knows where you are?”

“I told you,
no
one. My opinions about Brigit’s travel here caused a lot of bad feelings. I thought if I could bring her back, I would get back in the family’s favor. You understand family trouble?”

“Yes, though in this part of the world, the man rules his family with an iron will. Women like you would have had no say in what Brigit did, and Brigit herself would have been punished severely for her actions. You Westerners are too lax.”

Thia would have liked to stick his familial ideas up his ass, but she controlled her emotions. “Do you think I could get a robe or something to put on? I really don’t feel comfortable standing here naked in front of a man I don’t know.”

“Do not concern yourself. I have no interest in you as a woman.” He pointed to one of the chairs. “Sit, and tell me again how you found Omar.”

Thia sighed, but she sat down. Leaning forward and crossing her arms on the tabletop covered her breasts. She related the story again of tracking Omar down through the phone number she’d gotten from Brigit’s parents. The man showed neither interest nor boredom. For at least another thirty minutes, Thia answered questions, several over and over.

“I believe I have heard enough,” the man said at last. Thia didn’t notice that he gave any signal, but the door opened, and the large guard who left earlier stepped through. “What have you discovered about our friend Omar?”