Page 43 of Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team)

Except she had a terrible suspicion she wouldn’t be able to savor that for long.

From her position at the far end of the long, abandoned building they were in, she couldn’t see Jim or Mark but she had a clear view of Hadad’s men as they moved about, setting up some kind of equipment in the center of the room. She’d heard one of them talking about their location earlier, and she was pretty sure she’d overheard the name of the village they were in.

Northern Shuneh.

She knew the place, located up near the northern border with Syria. A poor, remote area that had come up during her research prior to this trip. The DIA had suspected the ATB might be using it as a staging area for their operations in the region. Now she knew for sure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement and turned her head toward it. One of Hadad’s men approached her cell, carrying something in his hands.

It was black, about the size of a laptop. But it wasn’t her computer. Hadad had given it to his second-in-command earlier, the moment he’d finished with her in that unsettling interrogation. He’d made her wait since then to find out what her fate would be.

She now knew firsthand that the intel reports on him were right. He was a master of psychological warfare. He knew she was afraid, knew it was torture to imagine what might happen and was letting that fear grow while she waited for his next move.

The ATB fighter was nearly to her now. There wasn’t any room to move but she shrank back against the unforgiving bars and watched his every move, careful not to make eye contact.

But he didn’t unlock the cell and deliver the beating or rape she’d feared.

Instead, he lifted the thin, rectangular-shaped item he held and used more plastic zip ties to secure it around the bars at the front of her cell. Then, without giving her a second glance, he sauntered away.

Summer remained frozen in place, not daring to move yet. When he moved out of her line of vision, she could see others assembling what looked like a large tripod in the center of the building.

A minute later, someone came in holding what looked like a camera. They set it up facing a stage of sorts, where two men were hanging the ATB’s infamous black flag as a backdrop.

Just the sight of it sent a wave of nausea rolling through her. Whatever Hadad was planning for them, he was going to film the entire thing. No doubt to make as big a statement as possible in the media and solidify his reputation as one of the most powerful up-and-comers within the ATB.

She watched everything closely, tried frantically to think of a way to save herself. To somehow buy more time in case intelligence officials had found them and were planning to mount some sort of rescue.

But as the minutes ticked by, she couldn’t come up with a single idea that might help her and the others. Bartering more time from Hadad by giving him sensitive military information might not appease him, and it would result in innocent people dying. She was in a no-win situation.

There had to be something else. Another way. But being trapped in here with no means of defending herself, there was literally nothing she could do.

In front of her, the men continued to set up their filming area. She shifted slightly, winced as a sharp stone dug into her hip. As she moved off it, an idea hit her. It was desperate and probably ineffective, but right at that moment, having something she could use as a weapon seemed a hell of a lot better than having nothing.

The shadows back here at the end of the building gave her good cover. She observed the men ahead of her carefully, making sure no one was paying any attention to her.

Keeping her movements small, she tucked her legs beneath her and reached down to slide off her left shoe and sock. She held the sock in one hand as she slipped the shoe back on, then tugged the hem of her robe down to hide her bare ankle.

No one was watching her yet.

Feeling around in the dirt behind her, she began to pick up every stone and piece of gravel she could find and put them into the sock. Once it was nearly full she waited until the men’s backs were to her before tying a knot securely at the top.

As a weapon it was pathetic, she knew that. Still, it was surprisingly heavy and would pack one hell of a punch if she could get enough leverage to swing it at someone.

Adam had taught her more than a few self-defense tricks over the years. She’d never imagined having to use them in a situation like this but now she was eternally grateful for the tips he’d given her. If someone came to get her, she might be able to use the stones to strike out.

Her mind raced. The bars of her cell were wide enough apart that she could easily slide her arm through them. All she needed was for one of the men to come close enough, be unaware enough, and she could potentially use it as a makeshift club.

From what she’d noticed, each of them carried at least one pistol. If she could swing the stones through the bars with enough force, she might be able to knock one of them out, or at least stun him long enough to take his weapon. After that she’d have only seconds to attempt an escape but she would keep shooting, take out as many of these bastards as she could before they killed her.

She gripped her crude weapon tightly in her right hand, waited a few beats to make sure no one glanced her way. Then, moving fast, she lifted up to reach beneath the hem of her robe and tucked the sock into the back of the waistband of her panties.

By the time she’d straightened the robe her heart was hammering in her ears. No one had looked her way yet but the camera and flag were all set up. They were rigging lights now, bright lights that illuminated that hideous black flag for the upcoming drama about to unfold on the stage.

She didn’t dare move again, the weight of the sock pressing against the small of her back a cold comfort. A flurry of movement caught her attention to the right as the men scrambled out of the way to reveal Hadad.

He was heading straight for her, along with his second-in-command. Her pulse ratcheted up when that cold gaze locked on her. The chances of her disabling him or his lackey were small, but taking both of them down? No way.

Frustration and helplessness flooded her, making her want to scream at the unfairness of it all. This might be her only chance to disable one of her captors. She’d only have one shot at it, one chance to take someone down before she lost the element of surprise, and now that the moment had arrived, she couldn’t even seize the opportunity. It would be suicide.

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