Satin and Steel (18 page)

The others nodded, knowing that their vice president was right.

“So, let’s vote on it then. All in favor of stepping in?”

Twelve hands went up immediately and Hawk pounded his carved wooden gavel. Standing up, an anticipatory kind of energy rippled through the group. It had been a long time since something this big had hit their little town.

“Dax. Hold up a minute. Let’s work out the details.”

An hour later, Dax wasn’t sure he liked the plan Hawk had come up with. Using the stowaway as bait was dangerous, and they all knew that things could go wrong quickly. Dax knew that Rhee would do anything to find her sister. He wasn’t sure what she would do if she knew what they all suspected, that Mickey was long dead.

His phone buzzed again for the umpteenth time and Dax finally checked his messages. As he reviewed the text and photo that appeared from his synced connection to Rhee’s phone, his blood ran cold. Turning on his heel, he texted Rhee an urgent message and then began yelling for Wince, Hawk and Rollie.
Fuck!
That girl is going to get herself killed!

Rhee’s hands shook as she started the Suburban, half-expecting Dax to come bursting into the yard at any moment to stop her. Nervously, she checked her reflection in the mirror. Rhee wore a black, oversized sweatshirt with the hood obscuring her head. Dark sunglasses covered her face. Black jeans tucked into black motorcycle boots made up the rest of the outfit, but what really completed the look was the small pistol tucked into her waistband.

The memory drive felt hard and obvious in her bra but with the sweatshirt on, hopefully no one would be able to tell it was there. Swallowing hard, Rhee forced herself to drive slowly off of the property. She signaled, and turned right. Then, she took the vehicle onto the freeway. It was like she was on autopilot as she mechanically followed the directions she had received. It was almost an hour before she exited the freeway and began to head down a dirt road.
Oh God, Mickey, please be alright.

“The stick is gone.” Wince shook his head in disbelief.

“My spare heat is gone too.” Dax had forgotten about the small pistol he kept in his desk.
Guess the little girl went poking around.
Gotta hand it to her, at least she took precautions.
Still, if we don’t get to her in time…

Hawk, Wince, and Dax raced to their bikes and strapped on their lids. Dax was strapped and so were the others. Taking no chances, he made sure his bulletproof vest was securely fastened. Dax pulled out his phone one last time to check for messages but there had been no reply from Rhee. He looked at the chilling message that had come in while they were at the table, cursing himself again for not paying attention to it sooner.

Bring the drive.
Come alone.
You have an hour or she dies.

A picture of a girl, her reddish hair stringy with sweat, accompanied the text. Mickey faced away from the camera, her arms and legs bound to a chair. Her head was bowed and her face was obscured. Looking at it, you couldn’t even be sure she was alive. Dax could only imagine what Rhee was feeling at the moment. He gunned the motor, throwing the steel monster beneath him into high gear.

Rhee had reached the address she had been given. Of course, her destination was a creepy, abandoned cannery building that perched at the end of a deserted dock. A stale fishy smell clung to the place, making Rhee shiver with revulsion. As she approached, there was no movement. The only clue suggesting where she should go was a single line of tire tracks, so she followed them.

Rhee pulled up outside of the main warehouse.
Good old number one.
She took a deep breath and stilled her shaking hands. Reflexively she pressed the drive into her skin. She didn’t even know what was on it, and she didn’t care. It was worth nothing in exchange for Mickey’s life. Steeling her nerves, she undid the safety on Dax’s pistol and hefted it experimentally. Rhee had done some target practice before, but it had been a while since she had shot a gun. She stuck the small pistol back in her waistband but then reconsidered and slipped it into her boot.
I’m coming, Mickey.
Hold on.

Dax was averaging a good ninety miles an hour, the hot steel spurring him to take it even faster. Wince and Rollie followed just behind him, with Hawk and a few of the grunts bringing additional firepower. The GPS signal from Rhee’s phone took them directly to the empty suburban. Small, booted footprints led into the main warehouse. Dax sent several silent signals to his crew, and they cased the joint. He hugged the wall as he went closer, finding that he was doing something he hadn’t done in a long while: praying.

“Hello?” Rhee’s voice echoed loudly in the empty, dusty space. Bravely, she crept forward, heading towards a light that shined from beneath a door across the floor. She placed her hand on the knob and then the door swung open to admit her. She froze, expecting an assault, but oddly, nothing happened. Not yet.

Rhee blinked, her adrenaline pumping as she processed what she was seeing. Instead of abandoned cannery machines or debris, the room seemed to have been transformed. It smelled vaguely of fish, but other that that, the space looked like it didn’t belong here. Dark couches lined the walls, and the room had obviously been wired for electricity because a flat screen television graced one corner. The place wasn’t empty either; three men occupied it, but none of them took any notice of Rhee. At first.

A man wearing glasses sat in a leather chair at a computer. Another man smoked a cigar and paced impatiently. A third, behemoth of a man, stood just inside the door, making Rhee’s heart jump with fright as she registered his presence. All three of them were dressed impeccably, the satin sheen of their suits illustrating how expensive they were. But the most riveting sight for Rhee was not the image of the imposing, well-dressed men. No, her eyes zeroed in on a shadowed figure in the background. Rhee could see that the other girl’s arms were bound to the chair. The chair faced the wall.

“Mickey,” Rhee breathed. She took one purposeful step towards her sister before the large man at the door grabbed her arm.

“Miss Blake. So nice of you to join us,” the man smoking the cigar finally acknowledged her.

“Let me go!” His grip only tightened on her arm as the other man approached. He studied Rhee with a calculated glare, making her heart race and her hands shake. She knew instinctively that this was a very dangerous man.

“Now, now, Miss Blake. Let’s not be hasty.” He smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “First, I need to know that you kept up your end of the bargain.”

Big Man leered as he patted her down, taking extra care to squeeze Rhee’s breasts and bottom. Desensitized by years of unwanted touching, she managed to control her urge to scream or resist. Still, she stiffened, praying that he didn’t locate the piece she had stuffed into her right boot. Lucky for Rhee, Big Man didn’t feel the small USB drive through the padding of her bra either. Then again, she supposed he wasn’t looking for it. “She’s clean.”

“Ah. And you came alone, like a good little puta, didn’t you?”

Rhee felt her face turn red with anger. She barely managed to stifle her retort, sensing that this man would relish putting her in her place. “Please, sir. I don’t know who you are, but I need to know that my sister is okay. Please?” Her voice broke as her eyes fell on Mickey, who hadn’t moved since Rhee’s arrival.

He raised a haughty eyebrow at her before chuckling. The sound made the hair on the back of Rhee’s neck stand up.

“So you don’t know who I am, eh?”

His voice was tinged with a Hispanic accent, but it didn’t sound familiar. Rhee shook her head. The man smiled his cold smile again and made eye contact with Big Man who shrugged. To her surprise, the man approached her, and held out his gloved hand.

“Victor Salazar. Mucho Gusto.”

Rhee wasn’t sure what to do but she sure as hell wasn’t going to shake the hand of the man who had kidnapped and potentially hurt her sister! She set her chin and stared him down, making no move to accept his handshake.
Show no fear!

The man who called himself Salazar nodded at Big Man who forced Rhee’s hand out. She tried to pull her hand away but instead, Big Man bent her wrist so hard she thought it would break. Rhee squeaked with pain and disgust as Gloved Hands pressed his lips to her fingers.

“Ah, Rhiannon. Such a pretty name. Such a pretty girl.”

Nervous chills went down her spine as Gloved Hands ran his thumb over her full bottom lip. “My sister,” she said softly, hearing the whimper lacing her voice. “Please let me go to her.”

“All in good time, Cara,” Gloved Hands said in his clipped Hispanic accent. “First, we see if you have delivered on your end of the bargain.” He held out his black, leather-encased palm expectantly.

Rhee jerked out of Big Man’s grasp, grateful that he released his death grip on her arm. She fidgeted, wondering how she was going to remove the memory card without displaying her bra to these cruel-looking men. “Um, could you please turn your back?” Now, all three men laughed out loud.

“Cara, you really are an innocent, aren’t you. It is only by my instructions that my amigos here have not forcibly stripped you and taken all you have to offer. Since I am pleased by that rosy blush on your cheeks, I will allow you a compromise.” He motioned to the man who sat indifferently at the computer and at Big Man, who shrugged again. The two men turned their backs on Rhee, but Gloved Hands continued to stare at her.

“There. They have turned their backs. I will not. You have one minute, Miss Blake, to hand it over. If you do not, you will be worried about more than a man merely viewing your innocent flesh, believe me, Cara.”

Shaking with both fear and anger, Rhee yanked up her sweatshirt and peeled the tight black tee up, revealing her bra-encased breasts to the man. Haughtily, she forced herself to stare Gloved Hands right in the eye as she slipped the drive from her bra cup. She held it out to him, using all of her willpower to prevent her hand from trembling.

Gloved Hands smiled. “Nice. Quite nice, Cara. I see that our little friend, Juanito did not mark you too badly.”

Rhee went pale at the mention of the man who had orchestrated the assault that had landed her deep in the heart of this colossal mess. Gloved Hands flipped the memory stick to the man at the computer as Rhee looked around, half-expecting Juan to appear.

“Ah, looking for another go with Juanito, are you?” Salazar nodded at Big Man who smiled ominously as he opened a large trash bin. He pulled something out and tossed it to land at Rhee’s feet. She stared at the black trash bag, and then looked hesitantly to Gloved Hands.

“Open it.”

“Wh-what is this?”

Gloved Hands regarded Rhee with narrowed eyes. “One of the first things you need to learn, Cara, is not to question me.
Open it
.”

Rhee’s eyes flicked to Mickey, who had not moved a muscle, and who gave no indication she was aware of Rhee’s presence.
Please, God, let her be okay.
She’s all I have.
Nervously, Rhee knelt, her actions reminding her of the pistol in her boot. She gingerly unwrapped the black bag from the object within. As it fell out, Rhee’s mouth opened in a silent scream as an acrid stench hit her nostrils.
Oh God, it’s a hand….

“Do you recognize him?” Gloved Hands chuckled evilly. “Courtesy of your friend Dax, I believe.”

Rhee stared at the hand as it lay there on the dirty floor. Big Man was laughing as he picked it up and held it out to her as though she were to shake it. Rhee felt a wave of nausea well up as her eyes fell on the tattoo on the hand’s attached wrist. It was a small pin up girl.
Juan’s hand.
Oh God.
Dax did this?!

“Juan was quite important to our little operation, Cara. And because of you and your friend, he is now completely useless to us. Now, I was planning to be nice, but this matter complicates my feelings.”

Rhee’s heart was pounding painfully in her chest.
What is he going to do?
God help me.

The man at the computer signaled to Gloved Hands. He nodded, a small smile paying on his thin, cruel mouth. “It seems you have delivered on your end of the bargain, Cara. This pleases me.” He paced, looking from Rhee to Mickey. “I am in a quandary, it seems. My affiliates expect me to exact retribution for their loss. I must confess, I did not expect you to follow my instructions so docilely. I was looking forward to punishing you for your transgressions. But, you have surprised me, Cara.” He placed his gloved fingertips to his lips as he stared at her.

“Remove your shirt.”

Rhee froze. “What?”

Gloved Hands stepped forward and slapped Rhee sharply across the cheek, sending her to her knees. Dizzily, she regarded him as her sense of horror mounted.
He’s not going to let me go.
Or Mickey.

“No questions, Cara.” He tapped his foot expectantly. Big Man lumbered forward, a sadistic grin on his face, all too eager to assist her.

Slowly, Rhee stood up and Big Man stopped, leering at her from across the room. With shaking fingers Rhee removed her sweatshirt. Standing there in her bra, Rhee managed not to flinch as he came closer, his leather-encased hands hefting each breast.
I have to get to the gun!
I have to shoot this man!
Rhee battled to keep a rising tide of nausea at bay as Gloved Hands walked around her, inspecting her arms, her hands, and her fingertips.

“Si, it would be a shame to mar such perfection,” Gloved Hands mused softly, his breath fouling her ear.

“Please. My sister…” Rhee looked wildly to Mickey as he continued his lazy perusal.

“Ah yes! Your sister. Why, that is a wonderful idea, Cara. Imagine, all of this beauty and brains too.” Rhee’s heart leapt in her chest as Gloved Hands gestured to Big Man, who smiled evilly as he began to approach Mickey.

“Please! What are you going to do?! You have to let her go! I did what you wanted!” Rhee cried in despair.