Page 3 of Last Chance

The atmosphere inside the van became tense. “Everybody keep your mouths shut,” one man said, voice low. “We’ll get through this if we cooperate.”

The doors at the back of the van opened. Two men with large guns waited for them. “Out,” snapped a man the size of a linebacker. “Form a line.”

One by one, Janie and the others climbed out of the vehicle. She blinked against the waning sunlight, which seemed as bright as a spotlight after being enclosed in total darkness.

When her eyes adjusted, she glanced around. The jungle crowded in on an encampment of sorts. Scattered buildings littered the clearing. Most of them were small. One, however, was the size of a large, sprawling one-story house.

Scar Face climbed down from a Jeep to survey them. He sneered. After another rapid set of orders, two of the terrorists separated the men from the women and took them into one of the smaller buildings.

Linebacker waved his enormous gun at the women. “Follow me. If you run, we’ll shoot.”

Gritting her teeth, Janie trailed after the other women to the extensive building.

Another man opened the door for them and stood aside as they entered. Linebacker led them to the left along a corridor with rooms on either side of the hall.

Each room had an iron door with bars across a small window. Behind several doors on the left, she could hear women crying or screaming and men laughing or groaning.

Janie swallowed hard. Were these men human traffickers? If so, why take men from the plane and the women?

A hard hand grabbed her arm and jerked Janie to a halt. She gasped and glanced up at her captor, who had a head full of wavy black hair.

He smirked. “This is your cage,” he said in heavily accented English as he pushed the iron door open and shoved her inside. “You stay.”

Like she had a choice.

Wavy Hair grinned as he slammed the door and locked it, leaving Janie in semi darkness.

She went to the bed and sat on the side, her legs suddenly weak. Trembling, she prayed for a miracle.

CHAPTER 2

SAWYER CHAPMAN DROPPED into a seat on the Fortress Security jet assigned to their team and heaved a deep sigh. Days of little to no sleep and little food while on the run had taken their toll on him and his teammates. A band of brothers, that was the Texas Team. A group of former cops who now worked for an elite private security company in Nashville, Tennessee were finally helping those who needed it most without having to worry about following a formal set of rules.

After so many days on the run and delivering the Argentina hostages to their families, he and his teammates were ready to go home. Sawyer had been dreaming of a long soak in his garden tub to rid himself of the grit and grime after the hard week abroad. His teammates wanted to be home with their wives or, in the case of their medic, girlfriend.

He was the last single man on their team. Sawyer shrugged. Of all the men, he could choose to eat dinner standing up, drink milk from the carton, or pick any action movie he wanted without having to cater to his woman’s preferences. A great thing.

Right. So, why was he reluctant to go home to an empty house despite the draw of the garden tub with pulsing jets to soothe his aching body?

Brody’s phone signaled an incoming call. Their team leader frowned and answered the call. “You’re on speaker with Texas Team.”

“Conference call with Brent in five minutes,” Zane Murphy, their tech and communication guru, said and ended the call.

Logan growled. “The last time we had a call like this at the end of an op, Poppy was missing.”

“Relax,” Max said. “If one of our women was in trouble, Z would have called the husband or boyfriend directly.”

“I don’t like it either,” Jesse muttered. “Simone is just back on her feet. What if she had a relapse?”

“Speculation won’t solve the mystery.” Sawyer stood. “Let’s go to the conference table and find out what’s going on.”

His teammates followed in his wake. They settled around the conference table as Brody booted up the computer and set up the video conference.

A minute later, Brent Maddox, CEO of Fortress Security, appeared on the wall screen. “I’ve instructed your pilot to make a detour.”

Detour? Sawyer’s heart skipped a beat. That was the signal for a new mission. They were being deployed again after a grueling week? This new mission must be time sensitive.

“Hostage situation in Mexico.”

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