Full Throttle (Black Knights Inc. #7)(26)
“Steady—”
“Oh, and I forgot to mention I somehow neglected to pack my sat phone. Also, my cell battery is about to die, so I’ll be going dark. Just follow my signal, and I’ll see you when I see you, amigo.”
“Steady!”
He punched the “end” button on his iPhone and noted he was down to five percent battery life. It didn’t matter. Escape and evasion maneuvers didn’t lend themselves to friendly phone conversations, anyway.
Taking a deep breath, he turned in the direction of the encampment, one thing and one thing only on his mind. Save the fair lady. And if he happened to win her, too? Well, that was just gravy…
Chapter Seven
Abby woke up for…gah, it seemed like the umpteenth time since she was carried from the stall in the night market. She readied herself for another dose of the drug as a traitorous little moan slipped from between her lips. But a couple of seconds passed and…nothing happened. No hot, sweaty hands reached out to roughly expose her neck. No sharp needle pierced her flesh.
And then it occurred to her that she was no longer bouncing around in the back of a covered truck with a handful of dark-skinned, mean-eyed men surrounding her like the other times she’d regained consciousness. Instead, she was blessedly still and lying on something soft and lumpy. When she tried to move, she discovered her muscles were still suffering the effects of the drug and mostly useless. Still, enough of her functions had returned to tell her that her arms and legs were tied spread-eagle. Terror detonated through her system, increasing her heart rate and compressing her lungs. Because it was an awkward position, to say the least. And a vulnerable position, to say the most.
Keep calm, she firmly instructed herself when her panic rose to near nuclear levels. They haven’t tried to rape you yet. And maybe, if you’re lucky and smart, they won’t rape you at all.
And in keeping with the smart part of that little pep talk, she made sure her eyes remained closed when a rustling sound alerted her to the presence of someone to her left. She needed to pretend unconsciousness so she could take stock of her surroundings. Knowledge is power, right? And perhaps the right knowledge might afford her the power, not to mention the opportunity, to attempt an escape. Not that she didn’t trust Carlos, her security team, and her father to do everything they could to find and rescue her. But the good Lord helps those who help themselves…
Alrighty, then. Easy does it. Forcing herself to rake in a soft, measured breath, hoping to slow her frantically racing heart, she noted how the dense air filled her lungs and tunneled up her nose. It smelled of wet earth, mildewing fabric, and rotting wood. Okay, so clue number one: she was somewhere hot and humid.
Well, cinnamon-toasted Jesus! That really narrows it down now, doesn’t it? Considering all of Southeast Asia is hot and humid?
Yep. Moving on…
She cocked her ears and recognized the whooping cry of some sort of animal—a gibbon, perhaps?—and the loud whirring that could never be mistaken for anything other than the drone of a million industrious insects. Clue number two: she was no longer inside the city limits of Kuala Lumpur. And, for no reason she could name—other than the fact that she was still high on the drug, dehydrated as all get-out, and so scared she was almost hallucinating—the line from The Wizard of Oz buzzed through her brain… Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…
Ahem, okay, so back on task.
Unfortunately, she realized the only thing left to do was open her eyes and take a look around. But the minute she did that, it was likely to be hello needle and bye-bye consciousness. Which meant she needed to be fast.
So, on the count of three. One, two, th—
“You so much as swallow hard, cabrón, and this here knife will shave off the top layer of your Adam’s apple.”
Abby’s eyes flew open. Like, seriously, it was a wonder her eyelids didn’t make a snapping sound. She realized she was lying on a narrow bed—or cot really—and Shadow Man was standing beside her. Her peripheral vision told her she was inside some sort of rickety wooden hut that was suffering a pretty severe outbreak of moss, but she took in that last bit subconsciously. Because her entire being, her every breath, her very heart was focused on Carlos and the flash of his black eyes as he glanced down at her, giving her, of all things, a wink. He was standing behind Shadow Man, holding a glinting blade to the guy’s throat, and he had the audacity, or the cojones, as he would probably say, to wink at her?
“You okay, ne?a?” he whispered, and the smooth sound of his voice, combined with his faint accent and that wonderfully familiar endearment, had her heart racing for a whole new reason.
He came for me! I knew he would!
“Not r-really,” she told him, her tongue still thick. “B-but I’ll l-live.”
“That’s my girl.” And as if the wink wasn’t crazy enough, now he had to gall to flash that smile of his. It deepened the dimple in his left cheek, the one she’d always thought was sweet enough to launch a thousand lady boners—it’d certainly launched a thousand of hers and—
Son of a silverback gorilla! Get it together, Abby! You’re not out of trouble, yet!
And that was evidenced by the fact that Carlos, never taking the shiny edge of his blade away from Shadow Man’s throat—did it make her a heartless shrew to feel a zing of delight when she saw a drop of blood?—grabbed the syringe the terrorist had been seconds away from using on her. Shadow Man opened his mouth, probably to call to his compatriots, but in an instant, Carlos twisted his arm behind his back, wrenching it so hard the militant was forced to his tiptoes. Now, the tip of Carlos’s blade was digging into the corner of Shadow Man’s mouth.