Page 77 of Beast

13

Patrick

I FLIPPED THE LIGHT ON in the hotel room. Kyle was passed out in the bed next to some blonde girl and Vic was crashed on the sofa in the small living area. I knew the drill—if one of us was going to get lucky, he’d head up to the room first. We’d hobble in later when the coast was clear and crash on the floor, giving the loving couple the bed. Of course, Vic never did that to us. He was a serial monogamist. We’d always tease him, but I was starting to think Kyle and I were the ones who were fucked up and Vic had the right idea. I wouldn’t be in this mess now if I hadn’t given in to my needs, but then again I would’ve never found Annie.

I nudged Kyle. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. But we need to go.”

Kyle understood. He rolled over to the girl. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, but I need to help my buddy out.”

The girl nodded, almost looked hurt. She reached for her clothes and got out of bed. I couldn’t help but stare at her naked body. Great ass, perky tits, nice tan skin. She slipped her panties on, then her jeans, and pulled a pink tank top over her head. She either hadn’t been wearing a bra or didn’t bother to look for it. Kyle gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you. We’ll be in town for a little while longer.”

Kyle actually might call. He straddled the line of commitment-phobe and romantic. His usual M.O. was to start a fling with a girl, swear that she was the one, and then vanish when it got intense, which it always did. Everything we did was intense. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a mellow job, a relaxed life.

I gave the girl an awkward wave. But because I was paranoid about Annie, I wanted to make sure she was going to be safe. “Where are you staying?”

“Oh, a hotel down the road. I’m fine to walk.”

Fuck that. “We’ll take you.”

She looked at Kyle. “No, I’m okay. Really. It’s just a few blocks.”

Kyle got dressed. “No, Pat’s right. Sorry, I should have offered myself. We’ll drive you.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.”

She slipped into the bathroom. I signaled to the guys to get their guns and night-op gear.

“It’s on.”

Vic slipped on his gun. “You found her?”

“Not sure. Her pimp is there.” I explained about dancer and my watch.

“Good enough for me.” Kyle loaded his pistol and gathered the bag full of our gear. “Hooyah!”

Kyle’s girl walked out of the bathroom, her mascara smudged. But at that moment, I didn’t see this nameless girl, I saw Annie. Annie’s eyes. In one careless, drunken night, Annie’s world had changed forever. Spring break, five years ago, a night like this. The girl who stood before me, she didn’t know that Kyle was a good guy. That the three of us weren’t going to gang rape her. But this girl took a chance, a chance on him, a chance with us. In a foreign country, with different laws. These girls had false senses of security, that they were invincible. But all it took was one wrong drink, one wrong man, and they could end up dead, or in a living hell. Just like Annie.

We headed out of the hotel and piled into the small rental car. We dropped the girl off at her hotel room, Kyle walking her in to make sure she was safe.

He climbed back into the car. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to go back and case the place. I’m not even sure Annie is there.”

This amateur rescue attempt was so different than the missions we usually went on as a Team. We had to clear the house, like we’d done many times in Afghanistan. These traffickers probably only cared about drugs and money; they weren’t going to risk their lives over one hooker. To them, Annie was property. Expendable.

We parked a block away from the building, put on our gear, and snuck up outside the door. The absence of sound and light made me believe everyone inside was asleep. I wanted this to be clean.

“I think she’s in that room. Second window to the left.”

“Let’s check it out.”

I was a non-practicing Catholic. Even so, every time I went on a mission, I always said a silent prayer.

Amen. Let’s roll.

A dog barked in the distance. Kyle and Vic stood watch alongside me as I used my night vision goggles to peer into the window.

A sink, a bed, some rumpled sheets, a mop of dark hair. I focused the scope. Could I see her face? Her tattoo? The necklace?