Mat threw up his fist. Sheri paused behind him silent as any operative. Pleased, he waved her closer, aware he couldn’t use the hand signals that were second nature to him from his time in the service.
He hardly heard her breathing as she reached him.
“What do we do?” she asked.
He hated this. This was a scouting mission, not an op. He wasn’t properly equipped. Ten men with automatic weapons. He had a knife. And Sheri.
They stared at the children, huddling in a scared group. He clamped a hand on her arm.
Sheri’s body vibrated with fury.
He understood, so did his.
Never much gave the thought to having kids of his own but this scene tore at his heart strings.
“Well?” she whispered.
“I have a knife.”
“And a Beretta.”
“What?” He leaned closer. “You have a Berretta?”
“Always do. Full magazine.” She breathed on his ear. “Are you about to go all MacGyver on me?”
“Why, have a stick of gum?”
“No, sorry.”
Her almost silent chuckle warmed him. “You’re a fan of Mac?”
“The original, not the revamped.”
Richard Dean Anderson. Yes, he could see why she found him attractive. “Do I want to know why you carry a gun?”
“Scare animals.”
Okay, that made sense.
“Can you get it without giving us away?”
“Take me a bit, it’s down with our bags.” She shrugged.
“Go. Be careful.”
“Are you worried about me?”
More than he ever cared to admit.
She kissed his temple and left.
The moment he could no longer feel her presence, his worry jacked up. The group wasn’t going anywhere yet. There was no vehicle and it looked like some were wet as if they’d capsized earlier in the day.
Problem was, he didn’t feel that it was just those ten men. He’d learned that rarely did anyone show all their cards. Or assets.
Time crawled until a sound behind him preluded Sheri’s arrival.
She slithered up beside him. “Here you go.” She put the Berretta in his hand.
Loaded, he could infer this by the weight.
“And this.”
He closed his fingers around a phone. “I love you,” he whispered.
She stiffened briefly before saying lightly, “I know. All the boys do.”
Thing was, he had no compulsion to clarify that statement. He meant each word. “I need to place a call. Trouble is, they may have ears up to listen in on any comms. I’m moving away from you, in case they try to locate me.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“No, but this lucky break can’t be left without at least trying to do something. We don’t know how often they go through here. All those kids could be here now. I refuse to lose them. Even if those children from around here aren’t, there are a lot of scared children in there who need our help.”
“Go. We’re not letting those children be subjected to this shit any longer.”
He stared at her fierce expression. Yep, he loved her even harder now. Mat, fully attune to his surroundings, slipped away to place a call. The Omega Team may not be able to come in time personally, but he trusted Grey to notify the right people who could arrive in time.
He circled the group and placed his call. “I need help,” he stated instantly when the call was answered. As soon as he could, he explained the issue.
As he was on the phone, the kidnappers began to get jumpy. Terse moments went by as he finished up his call and made his way back to where he’d left Sheri.
His woman was gone.
αβ
Sheri made sure she didn’t struggle or put up any resistance to the man who had the gun at the small of her back. Had Mat been caught? Probably not. She should’ve known she would get caught, but she’d wanted to take a closer look at the kids, make sure they were okay.
Sure, in hindsight that was stupid move on her part. One second, she’d been creeping closer, the next—well, she found herself in her current predicament. At least now, I will have a better view of the children.
Four of the other men circled her as her captor nudged her into camp. She held their gazes as they went around her leering. I can’t imagine how those children feel with these assholes around them.
A man with a stained ball cap paused in front of her.
What it was stained with, she had no clue. Hopefully, it wasn’t blood. The lights cast a dull pallor over him. Wiry. Shift. Mean. Three words which popped directly into her head.
“Who are you? What are you doing out here?”
“I was walking, minding my own business when he crashed out of the bush, scaring the crap out of me, then he put a gun on me and brought me here.” Indignation overshadowed her fear, obvious in her tone.
“Why were you out here?”
“It’s not smart to tackle rapids at night, so I made camp. And I had gone away to pee.”
His eyes narrowed. “You are out here alone?”
“I’m a guide on these waters. Sheri Rysk. Many people know me. I run a business up the river a ways.”
“She’s telling the truth.”
That was a familiar voice and hearing it gave her two things. Fear and disgust. Okay, there was a bit of shock intermixed in there as well.
Carson Miller walked into view, wiping his hands off on his pants, as he shook his head. A sneer lifted his lips. “Not running to me for safety?”
“I’m not sure I’d be safe with you, Carson. Why are you hanging out with men who have guns?”
“You know her well?” Ballcap interrupted.
Cason glanced at the man and nodded. “We worked together before and I have no doubt she was just out. In fact, you will probably find her kayak at her camp. She does it a lot.”
He neared her and she longed to punch him in his smug, mocking face.
She fought the urge also to gaze about for Mat. Where was he? Had he placed his call? Was help on the way?
Carson draped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing when she tried to pull away. “Me or them,” he said.
Not much in the way of choices. Better the devil she knew. Or so…she hoped. He took her by the frightened children and pushed her to a chair under a tarp. Camouflage, she reckoned. “Let me go, Carson.”
He shook his head. “No way. You’ll go to the cops. Tell me. Do you have anyone with you?”
“No.” Perhaps she was losing it but he had for a second there, sounded hopeful when he asked.
“Don’t lie. It won’t go well for you, if you do.”
“Because I’m doing so well currently. What with being held prisoner and all,” she snarked at him.
He stiffened. “Remember things can always get worse.”
Now there was a threat that freaked her out. Never had she heard him sounding so malevolent before. “If I’m a prisoner then put me with the children.” She leveled as much disgust as she could in the word children. Fucker. And to think she’d actually dated the man. Slime. He didn’t deserve to be call a man. Or human. Real men, decent humans didn’t do such things to people, much less children.
He stepped closer and reached out, wrapping his hand around her ponytail. The hold allowed her no movement. Carson bent closer. “Be careful what you wish for. They will keep you but it won’t be fun. Older used women can withstand more than children.”
“You’re a fucking pig,” she spat.
He backhanded her and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have hit the hard packed terrain.
“Get up.” He dropped his hand from her hair.
She blinked away tears and stumbled with him. They had to be working with others, there wasn’t any way they would drag it all with them. He shoved her into the enclosure and refastened the door behind her. Boys and girls were in here. No set race or ethnicity. The only thing in common with them all was the fear and uncertainty in their expressions.
A little girl toddled up to her and lifted her arms.
Without hesitation, Sheri scooped her up and held her cold body close, trying to warm her. The others—most—crept forward until they surrounded her. In the faint light, she spied lingering shards of hope in their gazes.
Hang in here guys. Help is coming. Sheri took a deep breath. I hope.