Page 19 of Lethal Pursuit

No,por favor,no!

The sedative burned as it spread through her bloodstream, paralyzing her muscles. The pain in her ribs began to recede into the background. Her head lolled, eyelids drooping, too heavy to force open. She fought it, but the drug was too strong.

Someone hauled her limp form upright and dumped her over their shoulder. The shouts and now sporadic gunfire around her faded into nothing as the blackness took her.

* * *

MAYA SURFACED WHENsomeone yanked her upright and hauled her into the air. Her stomach did a slow roll and her head pounded sickeningly. Her hands were secured behind her back.

Weak, fighting through the drug’s effects, she struggled to make out the sounds of men’s voices, distantly registering the bobbing motion that meant she was being carried somewhere. Air caressed her bare arms. They’d taken her jacket and body armor off, leaving her in only her T-shirt and pants. There were no more screams or shouts, no gunfire. She could feel the material of the hood pressingagainst her face. They’d managed to abduct her.

Focus, she commanded herself. Every wasted second meant she was losing the precious opportunity to fight for her freedom and possibly her life.

Her body remained limp, uncooperative, despite her attempts to move. Her head felt fuzzy, like she was drifting through fog, but her brain was fully functional. It was like being buried alive. She could do nothing but suffer the indescribable frustration of lying draped over someone’s shoulder as they took her inside a place that was much cooler and smelled musty and damp. A building? There was a scraping noise ahead of her, a few grunts. She didn’t understand what the men were saying, but they were dragging something heavy along the ground near her. Other prisoners?

The Sec Def, she thought with a jolt of horror. They couldn’t have gotten the Secretary and Jackson too. A lump formed in her throat, almost choking her. Was Jackson still alive? He’d been lying in the dirt, unmoving. The thought of him dying like that tore her up inside, filled her with fury.

A male voice behind her said something, and the man carrying her bent to slide her off his shoulder. She hit the hard floor and sprawled on to her back. Shards of pain radiated up from the right side of her back. Someone ripped the hood off her. Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. She managed to force them open a bit and got a vague impression of a dirt floor, a small, black space beyond where they’d dumped her surrounded with iron slats covering the opening.

A cell.

The sour bite of terror filled her mouth. Someone prodded her sharply in the back with a boot, right against her injured ribs. Agony splintered through her, stealing her breath. She barely had time to gasp in a tortured breath before she felt someone shoving her forward into the black hole awaiting her.

Her mind screamed in protest but her body remained unresponsive, heightening the horror threatening to suffocate her. She’d taken basic SERE training. She was fully aware of what male captors did to female POWs and knew firsthand how cruel a man could be to a woman.

A cold fist squeezed her heart as she envisioned being tied up and helpless while she was beaten and raped, humiliated. Would she break? That terrified her the most. Succumbing to the pain and torture, shaming herself and defiling the oath she’d taken when she’d sworn to defend her country. She mentally recited Article 3 of the U.S. Code of Military Conduct.

If I am captured,I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and to aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy.

The floor was hard and cold beneath her. Metal squeaked and clanged as they shut a cage door nearby, then her captors’ footsteps retreated, abandoning her to her fate.

It was almost a blessing when the drugging fog returned again, stealing her awareness.

Her last conscious thought before she went back under was that she would rather die than endure what her sister had in order to help them both survive.

* * *

KHALID TURNED OFFhis handheld radio and attached it to his belt as he entered the complex where the prisoners were being held. Tunneled into the side of the hill, the structure was deceptive. From the outside it looked like just another village dwelling. They’d been careful to leave the trucks at the base of the hill and used ATVs to bring the prisoners up the steep trails. A few of his men were out destroying any evidence of tracks now.

His eyes adjusted to the dimness inside the tunnel entry. It was much cooler here, and damp. He walked through the anteroom disguised as a simple living quarters and pushed aside the heavy carpet covering one of the hidden entrances that led to the holding area. Down the narrow corridor, he could hear his men dragging the prisoners toward the cells. His heart raced with excitement. He could hardly believe they’d done it. With only three of his men lost in the initial firefight, they’d managed to kill or wound dozens of Americans while taking hostages. Including the biggest prize of all, whom Khalid was now going to check on personally.

They’d slipped across the border into Pakistan without a single incident and melted into the hills, thanks to a little help from some of Kahlid’s most powerful allies.

Up ahead, Youssef, a hardened soldier in his late thirties who had come to him through the Pakistani ISI, glanced back at him from where he observed the containment of the prisoners. In the darkness, Khalid could barely make out the other man’s profile. “They’re all still out,” Youssef reported in Pashto. “Their pulses are strong. Should be waking up within the hour.”

“Good.” While he wasn’t overly concerned with their comfort or health, he had to be careful to keep them all alive long enough for him to get what he wanted. Khalid strode forward to oversee the Secretary of Defense being loaded into his cell and nodded in satisfaction when his men placed the American official in a cell made up of carefully spaced iron bars. “Keep him where the other men can see him. I want them all to know what has happened when they awake.”

“What about the woman?” Youssef asked, indicating the heap lying at his feet.

He gestured to the farthest cell with a jerk of his chin. “Put her in there against the far wall. Keep her away from the others. And I want you to remain here until she wakes up.”

Youssef bent to pick her up without a word and disappeared into the darkness. A moment later, a metallic clang echoed throughout the corridor as the door to her cage shut.

Perfect.

Khalid had commanded his men to take her alive because she provided him with a huge advantage, and he planned to use it against the prisoners at every opportunity.

A few months ago, General Nasrallah had set his sights on a different American female soldier, intending to use her for publicity and to earn a hefty ransom.

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