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She pressed the last of her money on him and climbed out. The slavers would take everything anyway. Her stomach clenched as he drove away. She’d never felt so alone, or uncertain. There was no guarantee that Diego would speak to Amber, or that the team would follow her here. She had to rely on the fact that Diego was a renowned tracker and as keen on tech as she was.
The silence was smothering when she reached the outskirts of the village. Even the birds were silent as she began the long walk down the main street. The walls of the buildings were pockmarked with gunfire. Windows were smashed on the house where she’d rented a room. The front door was hanging off its hinges. But there was smoke coming from the doctor’s house.
Signs of life like the smoke should have cheered her, but instead it sent shivers down her spine, because other things were wrong. The flowerbeds that used to provide a cheery welcome for patients were trampled, and all the plants were dead. And then a door opened and a voice called out, “I know that face.”
Chapter Nine
Diego didn’t rush into action. He planned first. Amber had come to find him, and now he was sitting in his tech suite in his house in Spain, turning the tiny receiver she’d found on her desk that morning over and over in his hand. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Amber had said. “She’d already on her way back.”
It was a powerful little gadget. Celina hadn’t taken any chances on him finding it and unlocking its secrets. They both knew if she were captured, her cell phone would be the first thing to go. This was why she’d been so secretive with him. Celina had unfinished business and she was putting her life on the line to see it through. He guessed her intention was to lead Blood and Thunder to the slavers, but there was only one way to do that, which was to infiltrate their gang. She’d have to be captured again to do that. His gut clenched at the thought of her walking blindfolded into danger. She was always helping others. It was time someone helped Celina. The slavers wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if they found out what she planned to do.
The fact she’d trusted him to follow the clues she’d left meant a lot. He smiled with satisfaction as he decoded the wafer-thin receiver. She’d made sure they could stay in touch if only by a flashing red light on a monitor screen. He couldn’t imagine where she’d hidden the tracker. He’d already filed a flight plan and made a mental list of the equipment he would need. He had only a vague address to go on until the tracker picked up her trail. Celina’s CV had mentioned a room she’d rented in an isolated mountain village, which was better than nothing, he supposed.
He piloted the jet, and his route took him east. On the advice of the refueling guy when he landed, he took a walk to the nearest gas station, where there were vehicles for hire. Choosing the most unobtrusive vehicle, which meant it was battered and old, he used his own GPS to find a route to cross the border. The team would follow as soon as they’d loaded up the second jet. Alexei had called him while he was in the air. Just as well. There were rumors of the rebels regrouping. And where there were rebels, there would be slavers picking up the scraps.
The old flatbed gave him a grudging fifty. His frustration at the lack of speed was off the scale. He had to find Celina fast, before the slavers harmed her. It was a matter of honor. And sex, as Cesar had coolly pointed out. He had never spoken an angry word to one of his colleagues, but that was the closest Diego had ever come to punching one of them.
Alexei had come up with an even more outrageous suggestion when he countered Cesar’s remark by saying that what Diego felt for Celina was a lot more than sex. He’d had to remind himself to make allowances for Alexei, who was still in the honeymoon stage of a romance.
He banged the monitor screen, which had so far refused to give him a signal, and swore with relief when a small red light began to flash. He would have preferred a full image of Celina, but he’d take whatever he could get. Hammering his foot on the gas, he concentrated on keeping the wreck on the road.
~~o0o~~
Celina had always known that reality would be very different from planning this safely in Spain. She just hadn’t expected to be so scared that her brain stalled and refused to function. Once she was captured, she recognized at least two of the men from Monte Carlo. Which one would rape her first? Or would they just go straight to killing her? They all had vicious knives as well guns tucked into their belts. At the very least, they’d torture her.
The air in the once-spotless surgery was thick with cigarette smoke. The gang had been playing cards and drinking coffee around a table that was filthy with stale sandwiches and drink. The thug who knew her closed and bolted the door. “Look what the wind blew in,” he derided.
She was numb with terror, but she had to keep her wits about her if she was going to stay alive. She had to believe Diego had found her clues and that the team would be hot on her heels.
“Bitch!”
Her head jerked back as the thug slapped her in the face. Before she had chance to react, another threw her against the wall, while a third kicked out her legs. She fell hard, sprawled at their feet. Someo
ne hawked and spat on her, while the others lowered their zippers. It was almost a relief when they pissed on her rather than raped her, though the stink, the sound, the warm, sticky flow made her gag.
“Keep your mouth shut, bitch, or we’ll piss in there next,” one of them told her when she exclaimed with disgust.
Pressing her chin into her chest, she wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face to protect it, which made them laugh all the more. She knew the game couldn’t last. They’d soon run out of ammunition. If she kept her head, there was still a chance that Diego had picked up her signal and she’d get out of here alive.
She screamed in pain as one of the men pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the yard by her hair. “You stinking cow,” he sneered as he ripped off her clothes.
She was almost tempted to thank him when he hosed her down with freezing-cold water. It was such a relief to be clean again. She shut her mind to the ugly catcalls and comments of the other members of the gang, who had come out of the house to jeer at her. She clung to the belief that they wouldn’t kill her, or why wash her? So they can rape me? But why not do that right away? And then an old woman marched into the yard and the men fell back in silence.
“What are you idiots doing to that girl?” the old woman yelled at them. She was dressed all in black, with a shawl covering her head, and seemed to have some authority over the gang. “She’s worth good money, this one,” she observed as she yanked Celina’s chin up. “She’s too good for your fun. Save her for the sale. We’ll move her to the next location. Put her in the van.”
Celina could never have imagined feeling so grateful to a crone who obviously worked with the slavers, but the old woman had saved her from rape or worse. She even found a thin gray blanket so Celina could cover herself.
“Put her in the van while I destroy the rest of her things,” she commanded. “You should have stripped her first,” she grumbled as she glanced around the muddy yard at Celina’s clothes scattered everywhere. “Did you search her belongings? You don’t know what she’s hiding.”
If they found out she had a transmitter, they’d kill her, and the old woman wasn’t stupid. She’d have to be careful, Celina concluded, now there was someone with half a brain on the case. The men shoved her into the back of their van. The old woman threw some dry clothes in after her, and then the door slammed and they locked it, leaving Celina alone in the darkness.
She pulled on the clothes as quickly as she could, sweats and old trainers several sizes too big. There was nowhere to sit apart from on a floor covered with a grimy rubber mat. She steadied herself against the side of the van as it lurched off. She had no idea where they were taking her, or how long the journey would be this time. She could only hope that they were taking her straight to auction and not back to Monte Carlo.
It was a relief when the van shuddered to a halt after about half an hour. Celina blinked in the light when the doors were flung open, and flinched back as one of the thugs reached inside.
“Not long now,” he promised as he dragged her out.
“Don’t mark her,” the man she presumed was his boss warned.
