by Elle Kennedy
Annoyance hardened Devlin’s jaw, but he simply nodded. Without even glancing in Trevor and Isabel’s direction, he strode off.
Isabel slowly released the breath she’d been holding, continuing to drag the irritating ice cube over her cleavage. Damn, now the top of her dress was wet.
“I must apologize for Devlin,” Blanco said pleasantly. “He’s not particularly sociable.” He pushed back his chair. “And I must also apologize for the brief nature of this meeting. My guests usually enjoy staying the night, but I’m afraid I must bid you good-bye now.”
“Not a problem,” Trevor said, helping Isabel to her feet. “We should get going anyway. I’ll need to contact my banker to arrange the money.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and then the guard that let them in walked them back to the car. After stopping yet again at the security booth and enduring another search—what, did Blanco think they’d steal the silverware?—they were in the car and on their way back to the city.
“That was close,” Isabel breathed. “I don’t know why, but I really thought Devlin was going to recognize you.”
“For a moment there, so did I,” he admitted. A rare smile lifted his mouth. “Nice move with the ice. Blanco’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.”
She offered a smile of her own. “That was the plan.” The smile faded as she remembered the reason they’d met with Blanco in the first place. “Well, he seemed interested in taking our money, so now what? How do we save those girls?”
“We’re seeing the others tomorrow morning,” Trevor reminded her. “We’ll figure everything out then and decide what our next move will be.”
Devlin barely noticed Blanco’s guests as he left the patio. He didn’t give a damn about the perverts attending this auction. His mind was a million miles away, mulling over ways he could lure Abby Sinclair to him. He’d had his fun torturing her about her childhood, but now it was time for a very different kind of fun.
Now he wanted his hands around her throat.
The guard standing outside the prison door blanched when he saw Devlin’s face. The man had been there the night Abby Sinclair assaulted him, Devlin remembered.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he snapped.
The guard stared down at the floor. “Nothing. Sorry if I offended you, Señor Devlin.”
Devlin brushed past the man without another word. He entered the prison and stalked toward the cell at the far end of the block. The metal trapdoor in the corner of the cell squeaked as he thrust it open. Bloody Blanco and his bloody sex auction. Devlin cursed his employer as he climbed down the steel ladder leading to the underground tunnel that had been installed on the property long before Blanco purchased it from a retired arms dealer.
The tunnel was damp and musty, reeking of mold and stale urine. The overhead lights flickered relentlessly as Devlin charged toward the bunker. The sentry at the door—Corbacho was his name—had a big beak of a nose, beady black eyes, and an AK-47 tucked under his armpit.
“Blanco wants an update on the merchandise,” Devlin snapped irritably, switching to Spanish. Most of Blanco’s guards were dumb as shit, and spoke garbled broken English that grated on his nerves. Corbacho was one of them.
Corbacho’s gaze rested briefly on the patch covering Devlin’s eye before dropping down to his feet. “The merchandise has been fed, clothed, and photographed.”
“No problems with any of the items?”
Corbacho shifted uneasily. “One has been refusing to eat, but I fixed the problem. Two are very insolent. I believe they might prove to be troublesome when they’re being transported.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to control them.” Devlin glanced at the AK-47. “Though I must ask, is that really necessary? I would think a small pistol would do the job just as well. An assault rifle feels like overkill for a bunch of weak little girls, no?”
Corbacho looked insulted. “That is what the woman said, but I would disagree with both of you. This is a fine choice of weapon.”
Devlin blinked. “What did you say?”
“I said, it is a fine—”
“No,” he cut in impatiently. “You said something about a woman.”
The guard looked confused. “Yes. Señorita Erica.”
Devlin’s pulse sped up. None of the guards save those who worked in the prison were aware of “Erica’s” escape. Blanco—no doubt to save his silly pride—had ordered total secrecy on the matter, so it didn’t surprise Devlin to hear Corbacho speak of her in such a respectful tone. The idiot probably thought Erica was still the boss’s mistress.
But the guard’s revelation… now that was a surprise. “Blanco brought her down here?” he asked sharply.
“Yes. He seemed very eager to let her see the merchandise.”
“And how did she react?” Devlin demanded.
“Very excited. She asked a lot of questions.” Corbacho smirked. “I was told she was a very sensual woman.”
Devlin wasn’t listening anymore. His mind was working over the implications of what the guard had told him. Abby Sinclair had been taken down to this bunker. She’d seen the scared little girls huddled in that dirty, cold room.
“Excited,” he muttered to himself.
Oh no. His Abby had been enraged. She had looked into those huge, terrified eyes. She had looked into a mirror.
Turning swiftly on his heel, Devlin glanced over his shoulder and said, “Contact me if any problems arise.” And then he marched down the tunnel, a wide smile stretching across his face.
Oh, Abby, you wanted to save them, didn’t you?
Stupid little fool.
Chapter 17
“Wow,” Isabel said when she and Trevor strode into the safe house the next morning. As Trevor drifted off to find the men, Isabel studied Abby intently. “You look so much better.”
Abby felt herself blushing under Isabel’s astute gaze. How much did Isabel see? The fading bruises and how breathing was less of a struggle? Or did she see more? Abby remembered the way Kane’s strong hands had roamed her body yesterday, branding her with his intoxicating touch. Could Isabel tell that things had changed?
Like she always did when she felt cornered, Abby went on the offensive. “Enough to be part of the rescue?” she demanded. Not that it was Isabel’s seal of approval she needed. No, it would be Morgan and Kane’s call, but Isabel’s recommendation would go a long way toward convincing them.
Tossing her newly black hair over her shoulder, Isabel fixed Abby with a shrewd look. “I don’t know. Let’s see.”
Before Abby could react, the other woman grabbed her wrist and gave it a sharp twist.
Abby promptly saw stars.
Resigned, Isabel released her. “Not better at all, I see.”
Her wrist throbbed relentlessly as she drew in a deep breath to clear her head. “Damn you,” she hissed.
Her friend just smiled. “Imagine that was a two-hundred-pound guard whose touch certainly wouldn’t be as gentle as mine.”
Abby turned away before Isabel could see the flush of anger and frustration rising in her cheeks. A broken wrist. She couldn’t believe that a stupid broken wrist was the only thing stopping her from carrying out her own mission.
“Come on,” she said stiffly. “Everyone else is in the den.”
“And I assume there’s a plan in place?”
“Not quite,” Abby admitted. Her irritation over Isabel’s cheap shot began to fade as they walked across the soft living room carpet toward the den. “Morgan and Kane managed to get their hands on some crazy military chopper, and they haven’t stopped talking about it since they got back.”
“Men and their toys,” Isabel said, rolling her eyes.
The room was crowded when they entered. Abby went to stand by the sofa near Kane, while Isabel moved toward Morgan’s desk and hopped up on it. As Isabel crossed her legs, Abby noticed every man’s gaze zero in on the sensual motion.
Isabel looked unbelievably hot as Paloma Dominguez-Martin. Even the way sh
e moved was subtly different, and wholly sexual. Abby wasn’t surprised that Isabel’s appearance affected the males in her vicinity, but she experienced a flicker of annoyance when she noticed Kane had also turned his head.
“All right,” Morgan began briskly. “How the fuck are we gonna do this?”
Trevor cleared his throat, and when Abby glanced at him, she almost raised her eyebrows in shock. He looked different too, with his sophisticated new haircut and the tailored suit clinging to his lean body, but it wasn’t the hair or the clothes that gave her pause. It was the eyes. They looked a little more… alive.
“We sent the wire transfer before coming here.” He turned to Morgan. “I know it’s too late to ask, but are you sure you want to hand over that much money to that sick son of a bitch?”
Morgan shrugged. “We’ll get it back eventually. Holden has yet to find a banking system he can’t hack into. We’ll let the money sit for a while, then steal it back when it suits us.”
“If you say so.” Trevor shrugged. “So, Bahar said the auction starts at seven tomorrow. Bids are placed at eight, and after money has exchanged hands, we take the girl or girls we purchased, and go on our merry way.”
“Blanco’s sending a car for us,” Isabel added. “That same car is supposed to take us off the compound after the auction, but obviously we won’t be needing the ride back.”
“Isabel managed to find out where the girls will be held before the auction starts. They’ll be in the servants’ quarters.” Trevor glanced at Morgan. “Do you have those blueprints handy?”
Morgan placed the blueprint they’d prepared on the table. He spread out the large sheet and glanced at Abby. “Why don’t you talk us through it?”
Nodding, she went to the table and knelt in front of it, gesturing for everyone to take a look. “Okay, so this is the main house.” She moved her finger. “The east wing here will most likely be off-limits. Those are Blanco’s private quarters.” She slid her finger to the other side of the map. “This is the west wing.” She looked at Isabel. “Did he say if the bidders would be given private rooms?”
“Yes,” Isabel confirmed.
“Then they’ll most likely be here. There are about twelve bedrooms along this corridor. Now, this long corridor here leads to the servants’ quarters. Kane and I marked all the exits I know about in red.”
Luke’s dark head nearly bumped hers as he bent to examine the page. “So this exit here is our best bet,” he said, pointing to a red line in the servants’ part of the house.
Abby nodded. “This door is located in the storage room, which is right next to the laundry room over here. To get there, you need to walk through the kitchen.”
“Where does the door go?” Ethan asked.
Abby lifted her head at the sound of his voice. She tended to forget he was even part of the team. His gentle, polite nature caused him to get lost in the crowd, blend into his surroundings. “To the helipad,” she said with a grim smile. “The perfect out, if it weren’t for the dozen guards monitoring the area.”
“We can handle the guards,” Morgan said confidently. He focused on Isabel, then Trevor. “If you two can manage to get the girls to the storage room, Sam can land the chopper right on Blanco’s damn helipad, and then you make a run for it.”
Abby shot him a sharp look. “You want to land your aircraft in Blanco’s backyard? What about the clearing you used last time?”
“Not an option,” Morgan said flatly. “Last time we had the element of surprise on our side. Blanco wasn’t expecting us. This time, he’s bound to be doubling or tripling his security.”
“He is,” Trevor confirmed. “This auction is extremely important to him. He’s going to make sure nothing goes wrong.”
“A power outage won’t work again,” Kane noted, looking thoughtful. “That’s how we managed to get in last time. Holden disabled the fence and cut the lights.”
“We might be able to do it again,” Luke said. He suddenly looked frustrated. “But not without Holden. Why the hell is he sitting this one out?”
“He’s home with his wife,” Morgan said firmly. “And I’m not about to drag him into this. He deserves the vacation time. Besides, even if he were here, I’d be loath to use his tech talents. The clearing we used last week is about two miles east. No way can Trevor, Isabel, and thirteen girls hike across that entire compound, reach the fence, and hoof it to the clearing without alerting any of the guards. It has to be through the servants’ quarters. That’s the only route that makes sense.”
“But landing on his helipad?” Abby said dubiously.
“It could work in our favor,” Kane said with a shrug. “A total blitz attack. Trev and Isabel get the girls in position, we land our bird right at the damn back door, guns blazing.”
Abby was still uncertain. “It’s not like we can fly in without being noticed. They’ll see the chopper coming and try to shoot it down.”
Kane and Morgan exchanged grins. “Trust me, they’re not shooting this bird down,” Kane said, looking far too happy. “Besides, this chopper has a fucking rocket launcher attached to its side. We’ll blow them to kingdom come before they can even reach for their guns.”
“What about the other buyers?” Abby asked suddenly.
Kane glanced over at her. “What about them?”
“You know how much I want to rescue those girls, but we can’t let those sick perverts escape. They’ll be speeding away in their cars the moment you start blowing things up.”
To her surprise, D backed her up. “These men are trying to buy children as sex toys, for fuck’s sake. We can’t let them go.”
Morgan gave a firm shake of the head. “We have no choice. Our first priority is those girls. We can’t go running around the compound tracking down every last bidder.”
“What if we involved the Colombian government?” Abby suggested. “They’re the ones who wanted Blanco dead in the first place. I’m sure they would be thrilled to arrest a bunch of wealthy deviants.”
“No way,” Isabel said. “Blanco made it clear that he’s got some high-ranking officials in his back pocket. We can’t risk involving the government. Whoever he’s paying off could warn him about the mission and screw everything up for us.”
D shook his head angrily. “There has to be a way. We can’t just let those fuckers escape.”
“We have no choice,” Morgan replied in a tone that brooked no argument. “If any of the buyers foolishly try to run to the helipad, feel free to take them out, but we’re not risking the lives of those girls to go on a suicide chase.”
Both Abby and D went quiet. She could feel the frustration radiating from D’s body, frustration that mirrored her own. For once they were on the same side, but there wasn’t a damn thing either of them could do to win this fight.
“Fine,” D muttered. “We leave the buyers alone.”
“But we get to blow things up,” Luke said helpfully. He rubbed his hands together. “I love blowing things up.”
“A blitz is the only way,” Morgan decided. “They won’t be expecting a fucking assault chopper to descend in their backyard.” He glanced at Trevor. “And we’ll be there to provide cover fire while you guys come out the door.”
“If we can come out the door,” Isabel spoke warily.
“Yeah, that’s another thing,” Trevor said, wrinkling his forehead in concern. “Isabel and I figured the best way to handle this is if she sneaks out of the room first and gets the girls ready. I’ll have to stay put, so they’ve got me on camera. Otherwise they’ll get suspicious.”
“Won’t they be suspicious that your wife isn’t with you?” Luke pointed out.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something,” Isabel said with a small shrug. “I’ll find a reason to leave the room and pretend to get lost or something. That’s not the main issue here.”
“What is the issue, then?” Morgan asked, all business.
“Weapons,” Trevor said bluntly. “Isabel and I w
on’t be able to get a weapon in there. The guards in the security booth do a search before you’re allowed to go in. They confiscated my gun when we were there before.”
“And I won’t be able to protect the girls without a weapon,” Isabel said, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “There are too many variables inside that house. The place will be crawling with guards, and sure, I could probably take a few of them down, but I have no idea what will be waiting for me when I try to make it to the storage room. Blanco’s probably catering the damn auction, and the kitchen might be crowded with people. And if I do manage to get the girls into the storage room, what if ten guards swarm us?”
Morgan rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “So you need a gun.”
“I need a gun,” Isabel confirmed.
The room fell silent as everyone worked the snag over in their heads. Abby stared at the blueprint, an idea creeping into the forefront of her mind. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “There might be a way.”
Kane’s green eyes studied her face. “What are you thinking?”
“The servants… the ones that live off the compound. They don’t enter the property at the front gate.” Abby pointed to the fence at the edge of the property, about a hundred yards from the helipad. “They come in from back here. There’s a couple guards posted at the gate, but they don’t search the servants, as far as I know.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll search a servant they don’t recognize,” Kane replied. “No way can one of us pretend to—”
“None of us has to pretend anything,” she cut in. “We can ask Inez Alvaro to help us.”
“Inez Alvaro?” Isabel echoed.
“She’s the mother of one of the captive girls. She’s one of Blanco’s housekeepers, or at least she was before she launched herself at him with her fists swinging. She’s the reason I found out about the auction. After she confronted him, Blanco bragged to me that he kidnapped her daughter to punish her husband.”
“If she was fired, how can she help?” D asked with a stony glare.
“I don’t know.” Abby shrugged helplessly. “Maybe she can pretend she left some belongings at the compound. We’ll give her the weapons Isabel and Trevor need, and she can enter the property through the servants’ gate and plant the guns in the storage room.”