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The silence inside the Seahawk helicopter was broken only by the sound of the aircraft’s rotors and blades beating like a quickened pulse. Inside, Easy and his seven teammates waited for the moment they were going to drop into the dark sea with nothing but their fins, wetsuits, and gear. They operated under the veil of darkness for a reason, and like the smart operators they were, they didn’t hesitate to exploit it.
They had flown from Little Creek to Hurlburt Field, then their bird of choice, an Air Force Spec Ops C-130, had dropped them off at the US Forward Operating Base in Curaçao. From there, they had been picked up by this Seahawk from the USSJohn Paul Jones.They would get them close to the Venezuelan coast and drop them off.
Sometimes they prepared for a mission for days, traveled for hours to get to the location, and the actual time it took to save the girl would take minutes. Easy grinned. He loved this shit. They’d get Devers out and be on their way home before the bad guys knew what happened.
The blurred coast of Venezuela came into view. Since their arrival was off the books and unexpected, they were going to infil just a mile from the curve of land and swim to the shore. Once there, they would change their gear, then cross the beach to the airport where there would be vehicles ready for them to drive to the prison about thirty minutes away. The CIA rocked when it came to transpo.
Easy looked around at his brothers, all locked and loaded and anxious to get this mission underway. They were going to infiltrate the prison with the help of some guards who had been eager for the American dollars offered. Then they were on their own. He had no doubt, just by the looks on the faces around him, that they’d get the job done.
Beast was situated between Brawler’s legs and his chest rose and fell at a slightly agitated rate in response to the team’s eagerness. This canine was about to do his job and go into beast-mode.
The copilot radioed that they were a few klicks out from insertion. They were about to launch from the chopper into the pitch-black night and into enemy territory. In this instance, everyone gave Brawler leeway. He would jump with Beast first to give the canine time to adjust to the water. Easy watched as Brawler and Beast jumped into the dark, then it was a rapid succession of splashes as all of them took the plunge.
He hit the water and immediately started to swim, Shark coming alongside him as they partnered for this mission.
Ahead of him, he could see Brawler with Beast dog-paddling like a champ next to him. That guy was fearless. The dog had a barrel chest, so most of his physical exertions were powerful. When they hit shore, they pulled their packs and changed into their black ops gear, stuffing their wetsuits and fins into their packs. Easy frowned at the absence of ribbing when Brawler pulled out a towel and dried Beast. It wasn’t like the team to miss an opportunity like that.
They met up with DSS agent and badass, Brian Cole, who was going to pose as an embassy rep to make entering the prison easier, maybe a little more peaceful. Soon, they were in the vehicles, heading for El Helicoide and the rescue of one incarcerated American woman.
* * *
Warden’s Office,El Helicoide, Caracas, Venezuela
The information that no one from her country had come for her crushed Jack’s heart and soul just as he meant it to, but she wasn’t going to let him win. “It doesn’t matter whether they have or not. I am a US citizen, and I have rights you are violating.” His hand went to her shoulder and her skin crawled, the memory of being naked and at his mercy making her mouth go dry. “Take your hands off me.” Her words came out hoarse.
His hand tightened until she cried out. Then he released his hold as he came around to the front of her. His scowling face with his brows over his dark eyes came into focus. “It would pay for you to be polite to me.” He was a bullish, muscular professional asshole and killer, the kind that sadistically enjoyed pain and suffering. His shoulders were big, supporting a large square head. He had the look of a bully, the kind of man who sought out positions of authority to give him a sense of power over other people. She had learned early in her life to be a quick, shrewd judge of character. It had been essential to her survival.
Nothing she did or said was going to stop him from raping her. She could see it in his black, beady eyes. She took a hard breath and said, “Are you charging me with something?”
“We are collecting evidence.”
“What evidence? I was arrested in a business setting after being here for three days. I did nothing illegal, Ramos.” His eyes flared when she said his name, and his gaze moved over her with a hunger that made her skin crawl all over again. She hated this man, mostly because he had total control over her.
He leaned his backside against the desk and studied her. “There is one way you can get out of here.” His eyes raked over her, a wholly sexual smile curving the corners of his mouth.
His meaning was quite clear, and as frantic as her heart was beating, she still refused to panic. She wasn’t going to do that, so help her God. Besides, there was no guarantee that he was going to let her go if she complied.
He reached down and his keys jingled as he unlocked the cuffs. “It would be a fucking cold day in hell, you pig,” she bit out, despite the fear nearly strangling her, realizing her mistake right away as his face went red, then purple.
She rose from the chair, free, but stumbled back as he rushed her like a raging bull. He shoved her against a nearby wall so hard that her head hit the surface and she saw stars. When her vision came back into focus, she realized that he’d braced his hand on either side of her shoulders and had wedged a thigh between hers to keep her trapped against the wall and his body. His face was right in front of hers. She stared into his black eyes, his Spanish lineage in his angled face. She couldn’t trust him, a man with few morals and many vices.
Bitterly, she thought how she’d been made to suffer because she was a successful woman competing with men. The glass ceiling hadn’t been shattered. It hadn’t even been cracked.
His jaw clenched tight, and anger flashed in his eyes. “You American bitch. I am going to use you and use you until I’ve used you up, then maybe I’ll sell what’s left of you back to your government.”
“Fuck you!” Jack screamed.
She struggled against him to get away, aiming her nails at his face and eyes, but he was so much stronger than she was, and he managed to subdue her much too easily. He caught both of her hands in one of his, yanked her arms behind her back, and within seconds had them back into the cuffs.
He was breathing hard by the time he was done, a terrible fury brewing in him. He pressed her up against the wall once again, then framed her jaw with one of his big hands so that she couldn’t move her head at all, making her all too aware of just how truly helpless she was.
“Let me go,” she screamed.
He laughed, the sound arrogant. “Go ahead and scream.” The pressure of his hand on her face eased as he trailed his fingers down her chest to the slope of her breasts. “I’m certain that by the time I’m done with you, your throat will be raw from screaming.” He tightened his hand around her breast and squeezed so hard, it brought tears to her eyes along with the excruciating pain.
Terror spiked through her. He was going to follow through on his promise as the fear clawed inside her. There was a knock on the door and Ramos swore softly. “Go away!”
The knock came again, and he let her go as she sagged against the wall in relief. He pulled the door open. “Hefe,” the guard said, his eyes flicking to her. “There’s someone here from the American Embassy…for her.”
