Page 59 of Call Sign: King
Khloe let out a strangled cry as she felt her nose crack under the velocity. With her hands still secured behind her back, she had no way of softening the landing — not for her face and not for her already sore knees.
Still sprawled on the floor, she felt the van rock beneath her as her abductors and the men with guns all piled into the back, taking seats on the rows of benches running down the outer walls around her. Their animated banter sounded celebratory to her ears, only serving to piss her off more.
They may think it was funny her nose was bleeding from the crash against the floor, but Khloe focused on the positive — she was leaving more of her DNA behind. She was playing her own game of Hansel and Gretel, leaving clues for her husband and his band of mercenaries.
With effort, she finally rolled to her right side, instinctively curling up into as small a ball as she could in an attempt to shield her body from the men surrounding her. Hard boots kicked at her, trying to get her to roll to her back as they jeered in their harsh language. In a way, she was grateful she couldn’t understand them, yet she had no problem imagining what they wanted to do to her.
The air in the unconditioned van was stale and warm, filled with the odor of sweat that turned her empty stomach. The headache she’d woke up with was getting worse, and with each long minute of the jarring drive, her stomach grew sourer until she found herself fighting the urge to throw up.
Dark thoughts threatened, pulling her into a spiral of despair. Trying to remain calm, she tried to think about if these men had even known her husband when he was undercover. Did they know him as Nicolai Romanovski, or were they just hired guns, doing as they were told?
Did it even matter?
Exhausted and sick to her stomach, Khloe tuned the men out as best she could, closing her eyes and taking deep, cleansing breaths in an attempt to stay calm. Minutes stretched out as she felt the van stopping and starting… turning corners... speeding on highways and slamming on breaks in traffic. She had no idea of their direction but knew wherever they were taking her wasn’t close to where they’d landed. She was smart enough to know that with each mile they drove, the trail would be harder for Ryder and his BSO team to find.
Her emotions were on a rollercoaster. Panic was once again taking over by the time the van stopped and she could hear the driver yelling out his window at someone. On the one hand, she hated her current situation, but things could get worse.
Desperate for hope, Khloe clung to the possibility she was not alone. Fighting felt hard, but she had to keep fighting. If not for herself, then for her possible baby. Ryder’s baby.
Their chance at a family.
The back door of the cargo van opening threw the group back into bright sunlight. Lifting her pounding head, she saw an old man dressed in a formal suit standing just outside the van. Hope flared to life. He didn’t look like any of the criminals she’d encountered so far. Could he be a possible ally?
Multiple hands simultaneously grabbed her, pulling her first to a sitting position and then yanking her out of the van by her ankles. Even after her bare feet hit the brick driveway, men flanked her, gripping her biceps, making sure she couldn’t run.
It didn’t take long for her to realize the old man would be no help to her as he stepped forward to give her kidnapper a big hug, both men slapping each other on the back. What she assumed were greetings passed between them. Were they family?
Finally, the old man spun around and started walking. As her guards pulled her into motion, Khloe took the opportunity to glance around and was flabbergasted at finding herself walking toward a monstrous brick manor. On the surface, it looked like a European castle. Curiosity got the best of her as she glanced around to see the long tree-lined lane, beautiful pastures, and green gardens in the distance. Under better circumstances, she’d have said it was a beautiful, luxury property.
She wasn’t fooled. Instead, the opulence told her that her abductors were well funded.
A wave of cool air engulfed her as soon as they stepped inside the grand foyer. Knowing that most homes in Europe were not air conditioned, Khloe made a mental note that they even had money for that luxury.
Waiting inside was another elderly person — this time a woman. Dressed in a black designer pantsuit, Khloe suspected from the vindictive glare on the woman’s face that she was no ally either, at least not yet. Still, surely a woman would not be as ruthless as the men she’d encountered so far.
“Welcome to Purgatory, Ms. Monroe,” the woman welcomed in her thick Russian accent, taking a moment to rake her gaze up and down Khloe’s naked body.
Had she meant to use that odd word? Khloe didn’t have time to respond. The woman made a gurgled noise just before spitting right in Khloe’s face. The shocking act took her by surprise.
“That is just the beginning of how I plan on repaying Nicolai for all he has stolen from my family.”
Yep. The old woman would be no help.
Chapter Eighteen
KHLOE
This place was no purgatory.
It was hell.
Every part of her body ached. The brief respite her shoulders got after her kidnappers had finally removed the ropes around her wrists had been made worse by the thick, metal shackles she now found herself bound in instead.
The group had spent less than a minute in the foyer. After the woman spat on her, the henchmen had hustled her toward a marble staircase leading into the bowels of the mansion. The deeper they’d gone, the home’s opulence was shed in favor of security. Khloe had noticed the heavily fortified metal doors, the biometric entry pads, the advanced alarm systems, security cameras… and that was all before gaining entry to the first room of the basement.
There were no windows on this level, and with very few lights, it had taken time for her eyes to adjust. They’d hustled her through a large room that looked like an opulent, yet unused, man cave. Instead, they’d shoved her in the direction of another fortified set of doors on the far side of the room — more biometric security stops — multiple security cameras.
Her heart sank deeper with each barrier she encountered. Ryder’s team was good, but even she could see that coming for her here would be like a mission impossible.
