Page 58 of Call Sign: King
“Enough with these annoying questions. Silence or I will gag you,” he shouted.
He may not have answered her, but one of the henchmen opening the hatch to the plane was answer enough. Several minutes went by as the men called out orders to people on the ground as Khloe did her best to look out the windows in the hopes of recognizing where they were.
Large hangars and other small aircraft surrounded them. In the distance, she could see a family with small children walking toward a plane slightly bigger than the one she was on. No longer wishing to slow things down, Khloe started walking toward the exit, hoping to get out and on the tarmac in time for the family to see her. The thought of traumatizing the children by witnessing a naked and tied woman weighed on her, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed help and even if they didn’t rescue her, leaving witnesses was a step in the right direction.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His grip had returned to her bicep, yanking her to a stop.
“I thought we were getting off,” she said innocently, glancing out the open door to see a skyline in the far distance.
They were on the outskirts of some city.
The land was flat.
She was grateful for the sunny day, giving her the chance to see plumes of thick smoke billowing from factories a few miles away. Between the airport and the pollution, a long line of dingy high-rise apartment buildings with rows of tiny windows stretched out along the border of the airport.
Nothing gave away their location until an airport security van drove up to the plane, its license plate visible.
AH 7331 78/RUS
Mystery solved. Unfortunately, she wasn’t surprised to find herself in Russia. Ryder may not have shared the intimate details of his time in the CIA, but she knew the bulk of it had been spent undercover in Russia.
She’d already put together that her captors were speaking the language, but she hadn’t thought they’d be stupid enough to bring her here. Surely, they had to know this would be the first place he’d look for her. He had connections in all the old Soviet bloc countries. Hell, until he’d burned himself on the debacle in Yemen, Torch had been the team leader of Ryder’s BSO team in this region.
For the first time since she woke up, Khloe let her hopes rise. Ryder would find her here. She was sure of it. She just needed to stay alive and alert, ready to assist in her rescue when the time came.
Raised voices outside the plane pulled her from her hopeful thoughts. She may not be able to understand their words, but she could see the henchmen who’d driven the getaway van back in Toronto arguing with an older man dressed in an ill-fitting suit.
Hoping to get the airport employee’s attention, Khloe took a step forward, but she didn’t make it to her second step before her abductor yanked her back by her hair, pulling her backwards into his bear hug as he warned her with an angry hiss against her ear.
“Silence, or I will silence you permanently.”
She weighed the risks and rewards of screaming out for help. Even if the airport employee heard her, would he be able to assist? Would he even want to?
She got her answer when the second henchmen pulled a huge wad of money out of a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The previously animated guard quieted immediately, snatching the stack of bills with a now sly smile plastered on his face.
Her kidnappers had just paid off airport personnel charged with recording all incoming flights while also validating passports and visas for customs. There would be no official paper trail of her presence in the country. No witnesses who could identify her.
Stay calm. Ryder doesn’t need those things to find me.
Her captor waited until the security van had turned and driven away before finally releasing his iron grip on her arm. Shoving her away from him, he barked, “Do not move.”
The door to the plane was less than six feet away. It was tempting to make a run for it, but she was already in enough trouble. Antagonizing him further wouldn’t help her situation — at least not yet. Had there been more witnesses in plain sight, perhaps, but considering they were at a relatively deserted air strip and his henchmen were out on the tarmac, she instinctively knew this was not a place she’d find allies.
Long minutes passed, lulling her into complacency as she listened to the man speaking angry Russian words into his cell phone, grateful that at least he wasn’t directing his anger at her this time.
Minutes later, another cargo van pulled up next to their plane and seconds later, three armed guards in bullet proof vests piled out of the back, immediately fanning out, rifles raised to their shoulders, prepared to shoot anything or anyone who approached.
Things were going from bad to worse.
“Time to go,” her kidnapper said, shoving her toward the exit.
Stumbling forward, Khloe stepped out into the bright sunlight, squinting as she navigated down the stairs. Her feet hurt as the spiky metal of the steps poked her bare feet. Next came the summer heat of the asphalt as she walked the few yards to the waiting van. Despite the burn on the soles of her feet, she took tiny steps, going as slowly as possible.
Still looking for opportunities to alert witnesses to her plight, she glanced around. When her eyes locked with one of the armed guards, she wished she’d kept her head down. The hungry lust he projected in her direction reminded her just how precarious her situation was — tied, naked, and at gun point.
In her weakened state, she struggled with the tall step into the back of the van. Still gripping her bicep, the kidnapper practically lifted her, shoving her forward into the open back with enough velocity that she faceplanted against the metal floor.
