The heavy door creaked open and Little John dragged her through with one hand wrapped around her arm. He was careful to make it rough and she stumbled trying to keep up. They took them to a small room and unlocked the large padlock from the metal latch.

Opening the door, she could see Elise tied with her hands above her head right before they shoved her into the room. Elsie’s head came up and her eyes filled with tears when they landed on Margaret.

“I didn’t tell them anything, I promise.

One of the men threw Little John a longer piece of rope. “Tie her.”

The burly man with beady eyes had a shitty attitude that bespoke a long history of dealing misery to the less fortunate. Out of all the men she’d seen, she only recognized one. Samuel Sharon was always bringing up the rear. She noticed a month or so after being brought to Dragonfly that the man didn’t derive quite as much enjoyment from his job as most of the other handlers. He’d always been quiet, followed the rules to the letter and had never tried to get friendly with her. Samuel represented her best chance of creating an opening for Dark to exploit.

Walking over to Elsie, the man with beady eyes grabbed her hair, pulling her head back at what must have been an extremely uncomfortable angle. Swiveling his head to look at Margaret, he bragged, “She didn’t have to. Ten grand was all it took to save ourselves the hassle of running all over this dreary ass island tracking you down. Money well spent, if you ask me.” Turning his attention back to Elsie, he murmured darkly, “You are nothing but collateral fucking damage. Want to know something? I’m going to enjoy playing with your fat ass and I’m not going to stop until you let out your last breath.”

Samuel spoke, “How about we stick to the fucking job, Aster? You can enjoy your fringe benefits once we complete our mission.”

“Always the company man, aren’t you?” The man he called Aster said, never took his eyes from the column of Elsie’s pale throat. “You’re gonna provide me with hours of fucking fun, bitch.”

Margaret drew his attention from Elise. “Hey, asshole. You got this all wrong. I’m going to be the one who has a little fun with your fat ass.”

Letting Elsie go, he ambled over to her. “Is that what you think?”

“I’ll tell you what I think. Your ass is mine and the last thing you’re gonna see is my face when the light goes out in those beady little eyes of yours.”

The man chuffed a laugh. “You got a wild imagination, Eagle Eye. Everybody that gets close to you dies. That big American biker you loved slobbering on so much is dead. That sister of yours took a dirt knap along with her stupid ass gangster last night. And guess what? Today, your little blonde friend here gets her turn. How does it feel to know you’re only good for bringing death and destruction to everything you love?”

“Don’t listen to him, Marge. He’s a lying sack of shit.”

Little John backhanded the pretty blonde across the face. “Enough with the bitching back and forth.” Turning to their nemesis, he barked, “Get my fuckin’ money. I’m getting’ out of this shithole.”

Jerking his chin towards the door, they left them both hanging like sides of beef in a slaughter house.

“You should have run hard and fast this time. You had a chance to get away. You should have disappeared before they found you.”

Margaret slid the knife open and began to slice at the ropes. “They’ll be lucky if I don’t slice their balls off before this is all over with. Did they hurt you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I always seem to draw the worst garbage to me.”

“I’m sorry, Elsie. I should never have dragged you into the middle of this.”

“What? No, I didn’t mean you. I was referring to the thugs who were stupid enough to think they could beat some information out of me about my only real friend.”

“Screw them,” Margaret huffed out as she sawed through the last few threads of the rope.

Elsie’s head came up and she watched Margaret toss the ropes away and rub her bruised wrists. “Stop struggling against the ropes. You’re never going to get free. I kept at it until I rubbed my skin raw.”

Glancing around, Margaret understood that to mean they had bugged the room. “What the fuck ever. I’ll just wait for them to untie me, then make my move when they least expect it.”

Careful to move noiselessly, Margaret came over and begin cutting on the woman’s ropes.

Elsie spoke quietly, “Was what he said about your handsome friend true. Did he die defending you?”

Winking at her, Margaret responded with in a serious tone, “It’s my fault for getting him involved.”

“What about his son, Darkness?”

“He was all kinds of messed up about losing you. I think he had a thing for you.”

Grinning like a mad fool, Elsie snarked, “He was twice as hot as his old man. I don’t suppose he made it?”

Cutting her free, Margaret closed the knife and slipped it into her cleavage. “No, none of them.”

Biting her bottom lip, Elsie murmured, “That’s a damn shame.”

Bumping hips gently with her friend Margaret stated, “I thought you hated him.”

“I hated the fact that he was a temporary fixture around these parts, maybe. I guess it doesn’t matter. Dragonfly nipped our romance in the bud real quick.”

Keeping up the useless make-believe banter, Margaret quietly checked around the room for a way out, a weapon, and the listening device. “I should have known better than to think I could get free and clear of Dragonfly.”

“They seem like pretty tough customers.”

Rolling her eyes, she quipped, “Nothing gets by them.”

“We’re never getting outta here, are we?”

Dark’s words floated through her mind. Tell them what they want to hear. “We just have to do what they say. I wish those damn mobsters hadn’t gotten involved. They’ve got my damn sister and I’m right back under Dragonfly’s thumb again. I feel like no matter what we do, women are just pawns in their never-ending game of international corporate greed.”

“I don’t even know I got dragged into all this.”

Suddenly, they could hear someone unlocking the padlock on the other side of the door.”

Grabbing a metal chair, Margaret eased over to the door. Elsie quietly did the same.

When the door flew open, someone shoved Little John roughly through the door. Behind him were three Dragonfly goons. The minute he saw the women were not in their respective places, the biker turned and used his huge body to slam one of the men against the wall, then head butted him in the nose and spun around catching him with a roundhouse kick to the face.

Meanwhile, both women battled it out with the two remaining men. Margaret kept her focus on her opponent. The one she vaguely recognized from the rank and file of handlers that Dragonfly kept on the payroll for such occasions. She crashed the metal folded chair into his face and then brought it down on his back when he bent over.

The flimsy piece of crap flew apart. In a stroke of irony, she found herself left the same back piece that got her out of the well on her last Dragonfly adventure. Cursing under her breath, she struck out again. The musclebound man rolled away and she caught a glimpse of his hand going inside his jacket. He could only be going for one thing; a gun.

Doubling down on her attack, she moved forward, using the edge of the flat shield like a piece of metal to knock the gun from his hand. From the look of abject shock and growing anger, she surmised no one had ever knocked a weapon out his hand before.

Bringing the piece of metal close to her side, she fell back into the basic fighting stance she’d been taught in the military. Hand to hand combat had been preferable to sniping people who never saw it coming. She wasn’t above fighting a fair and honest fight. Something flashed in the man’s eyes for a brief second and then it was gone. It looked like an emotion akin to respect.

Something flashed in his hand. A blade flicked open in the blink of an eye. It appeared to be an eight-inch switchblade. Wrapping her arm through the chair back she used the flat piece to shield herself from his blows. He stabbed at her over and over again. Each time, she deftly deflected his assault and gave him little something to remember her by.

He stepped back for a brief moment to regroup, wiping the blood from his lip. Margaret became vaguely aware that one thug was down for the count and the big biker and Elsie were tag teaming the other. It was slow going because Little John still had his hands tied in front of him. Yanking the small knife from her pocket, she yelled to him, “Head’s up, John.” Giving the closed pocket knife her best spinning curveball, she tossed it to him. Seeing him maneuvering to catch it, Margaret had already returned her attention to the growling man in front of her.

“Don’t they insist you guys keep up with your sparring? You’re a bit out of shape.”

“Talking trash to keep your opponent off balance? That shit won’t work with me, bitch.”

Jerking out her arm, she caught him on the chin with a sharp corner of her makeshift weapon. “You forgot to put sexy in front it.”

Wiping at his chin with the back of his hand, he snarled, “Thanks for the reminder. You’re a good operative, why’d you turn on us for fucking mobsters?”

Edging around him, looking for another good in, she muttered irritably, “You may have signed up for this gig. I’ve been held hostage for a fucking year.”

“I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“I do. By the way, playtime’s over.” Making a quick, aggressive move toward him, she maneuvered him right where she wanted him.

When the burly man took a step back to better position himself to fend off her attack, she lowered her weapon. “Don’t kill him.”

She watched the man’s face morph into a confused look, just before Little John got the drop on him from behind. Wrapping the very same rope they’d used to tie Elsie up around his thick throat, Little John jerked him back off balance. Margaret watched him shift vainly around with the knife, trying to find purchase.

Elsie scrambled for the gun Margaret had knocked from his hand earlier and rolled into a face-off with him, “Drop the knife or I’ll riddle you with holes.”

Snarling his dissatisfaction with the entire situation, he tossed it aside. Little John threw him down into a seat and tied his hands behind his back. “You’re all balls and brass when it comes beating on women. No so much when it comes to fight in’ a full-grown man, right mate?”

“Fuck off. I’m just doing my job.”

Backhanding him across the face much as he’d done to Margaret earlier. Little John stated matter-of-factly, “Play nice, you stupid twit and you might live to see another day.”

Picking up his knife from the floor, Margaret approached ominously, “How many of you are in this bunker?”

“It was just the three of us.”

The biker struck out again. “He’s lying. I saw at least seven before they decided to double cross my ass.”

Running the knife down the side of his face, caused the man to freeze. Noticing a gold chain around his neck, Margaret used the tip of the knife to draw out the neat little crucifix. “God doesn’t like liars, does he, Samuel?”

Swallowing thickly, he stammered, “How’d you know my name?”

Dropping the pendant, she sat back. Propping her hand on one knee, she asked sincerely. “Do you really think that I’ve been running around Dragonfly for close to a year with my head in the clouds. I have an identic memory. I remember everything.”

“I’m screwed no matter what I do. You think you’re the only one they pressed into service? I’ve got a family.”

Nodding, she sighed. “Yes, you do. Family that Dragonfly will kill just to make a point once you’re dead.”

“So what, I roll over and hope for better treatment from a bunch of fuckin’ criminals? No, thank you.”

“You want out too?”

A quick nod of his head told her all she needed to know. “How about you and your family get out. We’ll relocate you to the States, Australia, wherever you want and with enough money to start over.”

“I’d be ignorant to believe that.”

Elsie spoke, “It’s true. She saved me. You can trust her.”

Little John chimed in his two cents’ worth, “You already said you’re a dead man either way. What do you have to lose?”

“There are thirteen of us. Donovan will be here in two hours.”

“Who’s Donovan?” Little John’s curious gaze turned in her direction.

Without looking away from the sweating man tied to the chair, Margaret replied, “He’s the pompous little freak that’s been enslaving me for the last year. We’re gonna tear this company right out from under him and I’m gonna to sleep like a baby at night.”

Samuel looked up at her curiously, “Can you really do this?”

“We got you right where we want you and I’ve got about thirty fighters lined up just over the hill due west of here. We’ve already dismantled all the international offices. The London office is the last one standing.”

“Jesus, you’re really doing this.”

“You in or out?”

Jerking his chin up slightly, he responded, “I’m goddamn in. How will your men know when to join the fight?”

“They’re smart that way. Don’t you worry, they’ll drop down just when need them the most.”