Special Forces Savior (6 page)

Liam picked up the phone right then. “As soon as possible. Because Belisario is one mean bastard. I can’t stand the thought of sweet Molly in his hands.”

Neither could Derek.

Within a few hours—long, agonizing hours for Derek—they had some answers. Belisario was under surveillance by local Colombians the DEA had carefully hired. They reported back daily to the DEA on Belisario’s movements. Over the past twenty-four hours there had been no word of Belisario leaving his well-fortified home. But there had been a report of a woman being dragged into the house this afternoon, unable to walk on her own.

A white woman with long brown hair.

Chapter Eight

As soon as he heard the description of the woman, Derek was on his feet. He had no doubt this was Molly. It had to be.

“Listen, man.” Liam put a hand on his shoulder. “Evidently women being dragged into Belisario’s house is not an uncommon thing. This may not even be Molly.”

“A white woman with long brown hair just a few hours after Molly was taken by one of his known associates? It has to be her.” It was time to do something. He started walking down the hall.

“Where are you going?” Jon called after him.

Derek didn’t even slow down. “Drackett’s office. We all know that’s Molly.”

He didn’t wait to see if the other two men were coming with him. He didn’t expect them to. Just like Derek wasn’t going to the director’s office to get his permission. He was going to tell him because he respected Drackett and his boss deserved to know why he would be MIA for the next unknown number of hours or days.

However long it took to get Molly out of the hands of a sadistic drug lord.

Derek knocked once on Drackett’s door as he was opening it. The director didn’t seem too surprised to see him.

Derek, on the other hand, was a little surprised to find Jon and Liam had followed him into Drackett’s office.

“I’ve already been apprised of the situation,” Steve told them without any formal greeting.

Derek should’ve known Drackett would be aware of what was going on, even with the chaos from last night’s fire to deal with. That’s why he was the director.

“DEA contacts put a Caucasian woman with long brown hair being forcefully taken into Belisario’s estate a couple hours ago,” Derek reported.

“Knowing we wouldn’t be able to confirm if that was Molly or not—”

“Steve—” Derek didn’t need confirmation. He was moving regardless of whether they were 100 percent sure.

Steve held up his hand and started over. “Knowing we wouldn’t be able to confirm if the woman was Molly, I immediately tasked a satellite to give us footage of his property as soon as I got word of that.”

This was why Steve Drackett was the director of one of the most important law enforcement agencies in the country. The man made decisions and didn’t waste time. Derek was tempted to lean over the desk and kiss him.

“Don’t get too excited,” Drackett told them. “I was still unable to confirm it was her. But I was able to positively confirm that this man was present on the premises this afternoon.”

He slid a picture across his desk.

“That’s Santiago. He’s the one that was at Molly’s condo last night. We had positive ID on him.”

Drackett nodded. “I know. Which is why I agree that Molly is the woman spotted by the DEA contact being taken into the estate.”

Derek had been prepared to move at much less confirmation than this. “I’m going down there.”

Drackett stood and looked Derek directly in the eye. “We have zero jurisdiction down there.”

“I don’t care.” Derek knew where Molly was and he was going to get her out. Or die trying.

“No agency of the US Government can send in a team into a situation like this. Not if we don’t know for sure who the woman is or why she’s there,” Jon chimed in.

“I don’t care,” Derek repeated, nodding at Jon. He knew whatever he was going to do was going to be unofficial. He’d be on his own. Drackett couldn’t have any official knowledge of it.

He turned back to Steve. “I just came in here to tell you I was going to need a couple of personal days off. Not sure exactly how long.”

Steve looked at him for a long moment. Then finally nodded.

“Oh man, Steve, and I forgot to tell you, I need a few days off, too,” Jon said.

Surprised, Derek looked over at Jon. Derek would’ve never asked this of his friend—it was potentially both career-and life-threatening. But he needed all the help he could get.

Jon nodded at him and shrugged.

“Seriously, you guys? This is so stupid.” Liam rolled his eyes and turned and walked toward the office door. “Which is why I just remembered I need time off, too, Drackett. I think I put in the paperwork for it last week, but you probably lost it.”

When Derek turned to look at him, Liam grinned and winked. For the first time since he realized Molly was missing the tightness in Derek’s chest loosened just the slightest bit. There were no other people Derek would rather have at his back in a situation like this than Liam and Jon.

The director sat back down behind his desk. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind I have a lot to do here with last night’s fire fiasco. For the life of me I can’t even remember what you came in here to tell me besides to remind me of your time off which was approved over two weeks ago.”

“Thanks, Steve.” Those two words didn’t say nearly enough.

“Listen, you guys do me a favor, okay?” Drackett continued as they turned to leave. “The oversight committee is pretty concerned about security here at the building after last night’s episode. Jon, since you’re a pilot, I need you to relocate one of the Omega planes before you officially go on vacation, okay? Just go to any of the approved airfields in North or South America. Just so I can keep my superiors happy. And you should probably clear out some of the weapons lockers for the same reason. Security.”

“Steve—” Jon started.

Everybody knew that if all this went bad Drackett would have a hard time explaining things. But providing them with an unofficial plane and weapons was probably making the difference between success and failure.

“Why are you guys still here? I don’t have time for chatting today. Enjoy your vacation.”

Derek looked at Liam and Jon. They planned on it.

* * *

D
EREK
KNOCKED
ON
her door. She’d been watching
The Avengers
for the umpteenth time and had honestly thought it was one of her neighbors at the condo. Who else would be knocking at her door at eleven at night on a Friday? When she peeped through and saw it was Derek she’d been so surprised she’d just opened the door in her pajama shorts and oversize Georgia Tech sweatshirt.

For the first time since she’d known him, which had been for over a year, the gorgeous agent looked indecisive.

“Derek, um, hi. Are you okay?”

He just stood there in her doorway, looking slightly rumpled and all the more sexy because of it.

“Is there an emergency at work?” she asked him.

“No. Nothing to do with work.”

His deep voice sent heat to places Molly didn’t think about very often.

“Oh, okay.” She wasn’t sure what to do or say, which wasn’t unusual for her. But usually Derek knew what to say. Although evidently not tonight. “Are you okay?”

“I told myself not to stop by. Then I decided I would because I thought you wouldn’t be home.”

That didn’t make any sense to her. Why would he come by if he thought she wouldn’t be home?

“Oh, okay.” And now she sounded like a parrot. “Um, do you want to come in?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” But he took the slightest unsteady step forward.

And then it hit her. “Oh my gosh, Derek. Are you
drunk
?”

He cocked his head sideways and smiled, a boyish grin completely at odds with Derek’s size and darker features. “I might be just a wee bit tipsy.”

Molly’s insides completely melted.

Derek Waterman: superagent. Strong, tough and completely cool under pressure was standing right in front of her, a
wee bit tipsy
.

She’d seen him in the lab multiple times over the past few months and could admit she had a crush on him, but she never dreamed he’d show up at her house. Looking closer at him she could see the tension around his eyes, the slightly haggard look on his face.

Whatever had led to the
wee bit tipsy
had been fueled by something much darker and harder. Decisions he’d had to make as an agent. Or violent and terrible things he’d seen. Molly experienced some of that secondhand in the lab, but never up close like Derek did on a daily basis.

Derek Waterman needed a friend. She didn’t know why he’d come to her, but she was more than willing to be a friend to someone in need. Especially someone who had dedicated his life to helping others.

He looked a little surprised when she grabbed his hand and pulled him the rest of the way inside. “You didn’t drive, right?”

He looked affronted. “Of course not. The guys and I were at a bar just a few blocks from here.” He rubbed his eyes with his hand. “It was a bad day today.”

The demons in his eyes were evident. “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t help herself; she reached up and touched his cheek. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into her hand, not saying anything.

“Do you want me to make some coffee?” she said softly. “I was just watching a movie. We could do that if you want. Or just talk.”

Derek opened his eyes and looked at her slowly from head to toe.

Molly wished she was wearing a little bit of makeup. And wasn’t in her pajamas. But the look in his eyes said he didn’t care. She shivered.

He reached out and touched the hair that had fallen over her shoulders.

“No braid,” he said, taking a step closer. “No lab coat.”

Molly’s laugh was rueful. “Yeah, contrary to popular opinion, neither are permanent fixtures on my body.”

“This was how I knew you’d look—sweet.” He took another step closer, still holding her hair. Molly’s breath hitched as he hooked his finger in the loose collar of the sweatshirt under her hair and slid it until it fell completely off one shoulder. He slowly moved her hair to the other side so her neck and shoulder were exposed.

She was very aware that she had nothing on under that sweatshirt. He had to be, too. She knew that she should stop this. That he’d had too much to drink. That he needed a friend.

But watching him transfixed by her bare skin, Molly could no more stop this than she could stop breathing.

But she did stop breathing when she felt his lips against her collarbone, moving with featherlike kisses down the length of her shoulder.

“Derek...” His name came out in a breathy whisper.

“So soft. So gentle. I knew you would be.” His voice was right next to her ear, then his lips moved down to her neck and throat.

When Molly’s knees threatened to buckle, he wrapped an arm around her waist and backed her up against the hallway wall. His mouth came down in a painless bite right where her shoulder met her neck. Molly moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

She waved her arm in the general direction of the stairway before bringing it back to his neck and pulling his face down to hers, his mouth to her own.

He never stopped kissing her as he slid an arm under her knees and picked her up, not even breathing any harder after carrying her up the stairs. He set her down next to her bed and pulled her sweatshirt over her head and pulled the shorts completely off her body.

Molly was very aware that she was completely naked while he was still fully dressed. She reached for his shirt, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists gently and holding her arms out to the side.

“No. Let me look at you.” He trailed a finger from her cheek, down her throat and over both breasts. “You’re so damn beautiful, Molly. So beautiful.”

She reached for him again, and this time he didn’t stop her, kissing her again after she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. He made short work of his pants and they fell into bed together.

Molly tried to take a moment of sanity, to make sure this was what Derek was looking for. That it wasn’t just the drinks he’d had that had led them to this moment. She flipped her weight around so that he was lying on his back on the bed and she was kneeling over him.

“Derek, maybe we should wait. Make sure that this is what you really want.”

He froze for just a moment, silent, looking up at her. Molly was sure he had come to his senses, that he realized this wasn’t what he was looking for, that he was just drunk. Then he reached up and gently touched a strand of her hair from the roots all the way down to the tips where it rested on his chest.

Without saying a word he flipped her back over, grabbing her leg and hooking it over his hip. Molly gasped as she could feel every inch of both their naked bodies against each other.

“Does it feel like you aren’t what I really want?”

Molly started to answer, but someone ripped her violently out of the bed and threw her on the floor. She looked around blinking, trying to get her bearings.

This wasn’t her condo. She wasn’t with Derek, she had been dreaming. Remembering.

Her reality was a room with no window and a filthy cot, and standing over her were the two men who had taken her from her home.

Chapter Nine

The memory of her wonderful night with Derek made waking to this reality that much more terrifying. They laughed as she scampered back until she hit a dirt wall.

Where was she? Who were these men? Why had they taken her? What did they want?

Molly racked her still-fuzzy brain. They’d taken her on a plane somewhere, right? She didn’t know for sure, but the plane had been the last mode of transportation she’d seen.

She was still in the yoga pants and T-shirt she’d put on after her shower at home, however many hours ago. Her bra and underwear were still in place, which made her feel better.

Surely they wouldn’t have violated her unconscious body and then bothered to completely redress her.

The two men were speaking Spanish with a little English thrown in, and both had dark enough hair and skin to be from Mexico or South America. But narrowing it down to a continent didn’t get any of Molly’s questions answered.

She definitely had been drugged. Not only did she remember the pinpricks, she could still feel the aftereffects: mushy head, thirsty, tongue feeling swollen. Of course her whole face felt swollen from where Jerk #2 had hit her after she’d run.

“What do you want with me?”

Molly’s voice sounded strange, distant, to her own ears, much lower than her normal pitch. A side effect of the drug, no doubt. What had it been? Rohypnol? Ketamine? GHB? Molly had worked dozens of cases in the lab over the years dealing with these common date-rape drugs. She tried to remember specific ramifications of each, but couldn’t seem to force her brain to do it.

And then the men were coming toward her and she totally forgot about the drugs. They didn’t answer her question about what they wanted with her, just grabbed her under her armpits and dragged her through the door.

Not wanting to get punched again, Molly didn’t try to run or yell. Walking without falling over was difficult enough. She’d never be able to escape them, especially with one flanked on either side. Right now she just needed to focus. To gather as many details as possible about what was going on. To try to come up with a plan.

They went down a short hallway before a door opened to the outside. Glancing over her shoulder, Molly realized she’d been held in some sort of servant’s quarters or something. They were now crossing under an extended portico to a much larger house. A mansion. She could see men with large guns guarding it.

Despite the fact that the sun was going down, it was still warm. They must have traveled south. Maybe they really were in Mexico or South America. Everyone she had seen so far looked to be Hispanic.

Hysteria swamped her at the thought of being in a completely foreign country, having no idea where or with whom, but she tamped it down. Panic wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

And she was afraid panic was going to be her only option in a little while anyway. Might as well save it.

They took her through the back door into the house. It was beautiful inside, if a touch melodramatic with marble floors and heavy drapery hanging in the windows. Paintings of all different types decorated the walls while vases and sculptures lined the tables in the vast foyer. It was like some weirdly interpreted copy of Tara from
Gone with the Wind
.

The two men brought her into the very formal living room with furniture so fancy it would’ve made Molly afraid to sit on it even in normal circumstances. She stopped walking and was dragged from the doorway to the middle of the room. A man with black hair combed back and dressed in light linen pants and a dark shirt rose from one of the large leather wingback chairs.

“So you’re finally awake, Ms. Humphries. It took much longer than I thought. My name is Pablo Belisario. This is my home.”

He spoke in English, but his accent was thick. Although his name sounded vaguely familiar, Molly still didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted with her.

He continued, “It seems my men gave you too much of the drug when they first took you. You’ve been unconscious for over twelve hours.” Molly fought not to cringe as he walked around her in a circle. “You’re quite petite, the second dose they gave could’ve been fatal.”

He glared at the men holding her. “Fortunately for your sake—and for theirs—it was not.”

What was she supposed to say to this? Thank you? She finally decided silence was probably better.

“But your lack of consciousness for so long has caused a delay in answers I need right away.” His glare turned from the men to her.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you are talking about. Answers about what?” Maybe it was still the drugs making her fuzzy, but Molly had absolutely no idea what Belisario was referring to. “I think maybe you have the wrong person.”

His sigh was impatient. “No, Ms. Humphries. We very definitely have the right person. I just need to know what you found out in the lab yesterday before it was destroyed. And exactly who you told about it.”

Molly shook her head, trying to clear cobwebs. She would be confused even if she didn’t have Rohypnol or whatever in her system. Belisario had brought her here to ask her about the lab fire?

“There are—
were
—a lot of items in the lab. Could you tell me, um, what sort of business you’re in?”

Belisario’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a little disappointed you don’t know who I am already.”

Molly backtracked. The last thing she wanted to do was injure this man’s pride in any way. “Well, I’m a geek, in a lab all the time. I don’t get out much.” Sadly, that was true. “I probably wouldn’t know ninety percent of celebrities if I saw them on the street.”

“You’ve already become acquainted with one of my best sellers. It’s what has made you sleep so long. But most of my empire has been built on cocaine.”

The true identity of the man suddenly clicked into place. He had told her who he was, but she hadn’t made the connection. He was Pablo Belisario, head of one of the largest drug manufacturing and dealing operations in South America. She really only knew about him because of consulting with the DEA a couple years ago.

Molly sucked in a breath as she now understood how much danger she was really in. Belisario’s reputation was brutal. Lethal.

“Ah, I see you now have figured out who I am.” His smile made Molly’s skin crawl. “I must admit that makes me happy.”

He stepped closer, more focused on her than he had been just a few minutes before. “You are much prettier than I thought you would be.” He touched her cheek.

Molly knew with absolute certainty that the center of this man’s attention was a very bad place to be.

“Mr. Belisario, yes, your reputation is very well-known.” Molly knew she had to get his attention off her personally, although she didn’t know where to direct it. She’d never handled anything in the lab having to do with him. “But I’m sure nothing in the lab had any incriminating evidence about you.”

“No, I’m not worried about my operations. I have a partner, who shall remain...unmentioned. He needs to know what you know.”

That really didn’t narrow it down for Molly. “Mr. Belisario, I was working on dozens of cases in the lab yesterday, and honestly, I don’t remember many details about any of them.”

He shrugged, giving an exaggerated sigh. “You know, I tried to make that exact point to my partner. I told him to just leave it alone. But he is prone toward the melodramatic.”

Almost as if he couldn’t stop touching her, he reached over and grasped her chin in his hand, turning her head side to side, as if he was inspecting her. “Yesterday was quite the bad day for him. Seems like evidence linking him to...certain crimes was obtained, despite his attempts to keep that from happening.”

Despite herself, Molly pulled her head away and Belisario’s eyes narrowed.

“He tried to destroy all evidence at the scene first,” Belisario continued. “But evidently a few key pieces were still recovered by your Omega agents. So then he planted a bomb to destroy the entire lab.”

Oh, no. All of this was about the evidence that Derek had brought in yesterday. Concerning the Chicago bombing.

He touched her cheek again and Molly forced herself to hold still. “You, my dear, were supposed to have died in the fire, in case you knew anything. But you somehow made it out.

“Once we found out you had survived the explosion, he needed you questioned. And that couldn’t take place on US soil, so he asked me to bring you here. He needs to know what you found yesterday in the lab and who you told.”

“I don’t know anything—”

His backhand nearly knocked her to the floor. If his henchmen hadn’t been on either side of her, she would’ve fallen. Molly tasted blood in her mouth, the pain compounded by the bruise she already had on her face.

“You see, Ms. Humphries, I don’t have time for responses like ‘I don’t know anything.’” He shook his head almost apologetically. “So I’m going to need you to give me specific information about what was in the lab.”

He nodded briefly to the henchman on the left. Before Molly even knew what to expect, his fist came piling into her midsection.

Molly doubled over as pain stole her breath in a way she didn’t even know was possible. She tried to sob, but no sound or air came out. Almost immediately the other henchman pulled her back upright by her hair.

“Let’s be honest with one another.” Belisario’s tone was almost bored. “You are small, delicate. A scientist. You’re not the type who will be able to bounce back quickly from severe questioning. From torture.” He grabbed her jaw again and squeezed it painfully. She felt tears stream down her face. “I need specific details, Ms. Humphries.”

“I—I...” Molly tried to get her thoughts together, to get her breathing under control now that her airways seemed to be working. “The agents brought in something from a fire, a building that had burned down earlier in the day.”

He released her face. “Yes. Very good. Continue. Which agents brought it in?”

Molly didn’t care if they hit her again. She wasn’t giving this psychopath Derek’s or any other agents’ names. She thought fast. “Steve Rogers was the main agent. I can’t remember the other guy.”

She felt a cruel yank on her hair. “Details, Ms. Humphries.”

“He’s new, so I’m not sure. I think his name is Bruce something. Banner, maybe.” She prayed none of the men were Marvel comic or
The Avenger
fans, since she was basically just listing characters now.

“And?”

“I didn’t have a chance to get to any of what they brought in. The lab was backed up. I was planning to work all night. I had stepped out to get a bite to eat, that’s why I wasn’t in the lab when the explosion happened.” That was the truth.

Belisario nodded at the man standing behind her holding her hair. He brought her arm behind her back in a cruel twist that had Molly crying out.

“Just the slightest pressure from Henrico and your arm will break in quite a nasty way. So make sure you answer completely—did you talk to anyone about what was brought in by the agents? Does anyone know anything that could come back to haunt my partner?”

“Not from me, not from our lab. Everything was destroyed. I promise. If there was anything more to tell you I would.” Molly could feel her arm being inched up behind her back. Henrico was definitely looking forward to doing damage.

Belisario looked at her for a long moment, then thankfully shook his head at Henrico. He let her go and threw her away from him, anger in his eyes when she glanced at him, rubbing her aching shoulder.

“You see? Not so difficult when you provide the right details,” Belisario said. “And I believe you, because I’m sure you can imagine what will happen to you if I discover any part of this is a lie.”

Molly shuddered and Belisario laughed.

He ran a finger down her cheek again and Molly blanched before she could help it. This earned her a slap. “I’m supposed to kill you now, that’s what my partner wants, in case you talk to anyone. But like I said, he can be a bit overdramatic. There’s no need to kill you yet. I’m sure I can find other uses for you.”

His finger trailed down her shoulder and Molly looked away.

“Plus, we want to check all those details you gave us. Make sure they were true. And if even one small part isn’t, then we’ll start this whole questioning process again.”

Molly struggled not to vomit right then. It wouldn’t take long for whoever Belisario’s partner was to figure out that the names she’d given were fake, even if everything else was true.

A phone rang in Belisario’s pocket and he moved away from her. “I have business to attend to now. But we’ll talk again soon.” He turned to his men. “Take her back.”

It was dark outside as they returned her to her room.

“I’m sure the boss will let us have our turn with her after he’s done,” Henrico said to the other guy.

Molly choked back a sob. She was hungry, thirsty, tired and ached all over. The thought of these men touching her was almost more than she could handle. When they opened the door to her room, Henrico reached down and squeezed her buttocks.

Molly elbowed him in the stomach and jerked away, making the other henchman laugh.

Enraged, Henrico threw her down on the floor. He kicked her with one booted foot in the thigh. Molly cried out in pain and scampered backward to try to get out of his reach. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and brought her torso off the ground.

“And when the boss lets me have you, you will beg me for death.” He backhanded her across the face and threw her down.

Although that hit wasn’t as hard as the others, it was too much for Molly. She just let the blackness consume her.