The Maze (ATCOM) (22 page)

Something
shot out at her from her right side. Attie ducked and slashed at it with her
knife, but it slammed into her and knocked her sideways. She flew into the
wall, her knife skittering across the floor as dots danced in front of her
eyes. Something came toward her. She raised her arms to ward it off.

A
witch’s cackle pierced the air, startling her. Attie looked up to see a black
witch dangling on a wire in front of her. Hideous, with a long nose, green eyes
and evil smile. It was sliced sternum to stem from her knife and white stuffing
stuck out in every direction.

“Damn
you, Carlos!”

“I
can hear you, Attie. Did you enjoy my little childhood game? You know, I never
was allowed to go to carnivals or fairs. I guess I indulged a bit here.”

Antonio.
And he was close. Attie opened her mouth to respond, but the witch suddenly
opened her mouth and sprayed something directly into her eyes and mouth. She
cried out as it stung her eyes and left a bad taste. Spinning away, she rubbed
violently at her burning eyes.

“Don’t
tell me you never went through a house of mirrors before,” Antonio called as
footsteps grew closer.

She
had to find her knife and move. Forcing herself to stop rubbing her eyes, she
opened them and gasped.

All
she could see was a blur. Panic settled in heavier with each blink of her eyes.
How was she going to defend herself if she couldn’t see her opponent? She had
trained in the dark in the academy and had felt comfortable with it, but that
was a long time ago. She hadn’t been afraid of what lingered in the darkness
then. Now was a different story completely.

Carlos
had taken that away from her. Made her fear the dark and what lurked in the
corners. Darkness meant pain. But as long as she could still see shapes, fuzzy
or not, she was okay. She could handle that. Just don’t put her in the dark.

Dropping
to her hands and knees, she began patting the ground in search of her knife.
The short, shallow pants of her breathing filled her ears. She tried not to
panic but it got harder and harder with each breath. Her fear of the dark
closed in on her. She needed Noah. He would distract her from her fears.

She
choked back a sob and continued to search frantically for the knife. She
couldn’t think like that or she was done for.

It
took her a few minutes, but she found the knife and wrapped it securely in her
hand. With a weapon, she didn’t feel so vulnerable.

A
hand fell on her shoulder. She reacted by slashing where Antonio’s chest should
be, but hit nothing air.

“That
was close,” Antonio chuckled. “I’d forgotten how fast you were. You must rely
on your other senses now, Attie. Trust them. Go now.”

He
gave her a push in the direction he wanted her to go and she gratefully moved
away from him. She had never been hunted quite like this before. It kept her
off her game, as she sensed was the intention. Nothing was what it seemed in
this nightmare.

Keeping
her hands on the wall, she moved as fast as she could, fighting a battle inside
as well outside. The darkness consumed and she hated it. With her sight taken
away, she had no way of escaping it. She could hear Antonio counting again,
giving her time to escape before he came after her. That helped her push
through her fear and keep going.

Fight
it, Attie, you can do this
.

Brendan’s
voice urged her on, offering comfort in her time of need. Uncle Jed’s face
flashed before her eyes, weathered and tanned, soothing her frayed nerves. He
motioned for her to follow him, so she did. She held onto the wall, focused her
breathing and followed. Warmth surrounded her and she knew that Noah was there
too, silently giving his support in her time of need.

A
hallucination from the drug Antonio sprayed at her? Right now she didn’t care.
She needed it.

Her
fears started to fade as she gained confidence and moved faster. In the back of
her mind she could hear Seth whispering to her, encouraging her. They were all
here with her, helping her.

The
tunnels twisted and turned until she lost hope of ever finding her way back.
She no longer heard Antonio behind her, so she stopped and waited. Listened.
Using her other senses like he’d told her to do. She heard nothing but silence,
an occasional pebble fall off the wall. No footsteps, no one else’s breathing.

Taking
a moment to catch her breath, she leaned against the wall. God, she was so
tired. And sore. Her body felt like it had been put through the wash. No amount
of training could prepare her for this emotional strain. It only made the
physical pain that much worse.

Sinking
to the ground and propping her back against the rock, she closed her eyes and
tried to focus on something else besides her fear and pain.

Chapter
21

“I’m
coming for you, Atalanta. I can smell your fear,” Antonio called from down the
tunnel. Closer now.

Let
him come.

She
was done running. She would no longer be the hunted.

Or
the victim.

She’d
played that part for too long. Until now, she hadn’t seen the power Carlos
still held over her. She may have escaped his prison, but he still controlled
her. In a way, she’d never really escaped.

Time
to take her life back.

Knife
in hand, she stood, ready.

There
came the slightest noise behind her. She spun, took aim and let her knife fly.
A grunt and she saw him go down.

On
shaky legs, she ran to him and grabbed the gun. He slammed an elbow into her
stomach. She wrapped her arm around his neck and squeezed with all her might.
He managed to flip her over his head and body-slam her on the ground, knocking
the breath out of her.

Attie
blinked, dazed, trying to draw in a breath. Instinct kicked in, forcing her to
recover quickly and reach for the gun, but Antonio kicked it away and grabbed
her by the shirtfront. The material ripped beneath his hands as he hauled her
to her feet.

He
gave her a little shake. “You are one tough woman. You missed my lung by an
inch,” he said with a mixture of admiration and amusement. “Good thing you
can’t see clearly or I’d be in serious trouble. I’m impressed. Few have come
this close to killing me.”

Attie
glanced at the knife sticking out of his shoulder. Another inch…

“I
could try again,” she offered.

Antonio
set her away from him. “Stay.” He pulled the knife from his shoulder with a
grunt. Blood soaked his shirt instantly.

He
took his shirt off, rolled it and tied it around the wound the same as Noah had
done for her. Pain twisted her heart but she pushed it away.

He
wiped the knife clean on his pants and handed it back to her.

Attie
took it hesitantly.

“Put
it away,” he said. “You won’t need it.”

She
kept one eye on him while she replaced it in her boot, confused. This man had
spent most of the day hunting her and now he was returning her weapon and
acting as if nothing had happened.

“Sit,”
he said, “before you fall down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Attie
sat, but not too close. Antonio dropped down beside her and pulled out a
cigarette. He cupped his hand around the end and lit it then drew heavily on
it. He offered it to her, but she shook her head.

“Fun,
wasn’t it?” he asked.

“Not
really, no,” she answered honestly.

“I
wasn’t going to hit you.”

“Could
have fooled me.”

Antonio
exhaled a stream of smoke. “It was a test to see how long it would take you to
stop running and stand and fight.”

Attie
laughed harshly. She should have known. That was exactly something Carlos would
do to her. Testing her to learn more about her. She had misjudged Carlos and
his methods again. It would eventually get her killed. He hadn’t managed it the
last time, but he was getting closer with each trial.

“How
did I do?”

“You
impressed the hell out of me and that’s not an easy thing to do. You’re a
fighter. I like that in a woman.”

Was
she really sitting here with a mercenary having this conversation?

“Did
Carlos make you do this?” She rubbed her temples in effort to rid herself of
the insistent pounding there.

“I
offered.”

That
surprised her. “Why?”

“I’ve
always been intrigued by strong women. By you.” He leaned close to say in her
ear, “You’ll get through this just fine. You have an inner light that not even
Carlos can snuff out. Hold strong to that and you’ll come out of this.”

This
was just too weird. The man that had just tried to kill her was giving her
compliments. Maybe she was losing her mind. But, Antonio never had added up. He’d
always been…mysterious.

Attie
leaned her head back against the wall. She hoped he was right, because she was
beginning to wonder if she had it in her to finish this.

“Are
you finished hunting me?”

Antonio
drew heavily on his cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. “Since I’m
bleeding like a stuck pig, I suppose I am.”

She
closed her eyes in relief. She wasn’t up to any more running. “You didn’t tie
that sling tight enough.”

“Yeah,
well, under the circumstances it’s the best I could do.”

With
a heavy sigh, she pushed herself onto her knees and started to untie the
makeshift bandage through narrowed eyes that were just beginning to focus.

Antonio
snubbed out his cigarette on the ground and watched her through hooded black
eyes.

After
inspecting the wound, she re-rolled the shirt and tied it snugly around his
shoulder and under his arm. She noticed a black scorpion tattoo on his bicep
and raised a brow.

Antonio
rolled his thick shoulders to test the dressing and gave her a nod. “A four-day
drunk in Bosnia,” he said in way of explanation. “I know. I should have it
removed, but it has sentimental value and I figure if anyone gets close enough
to me to remember it, he’d be dead anyhow.”

“Ah.”
She sat back down and rested her head against the wall. Bosnia? Had he been in
the military before turning mercenary? Special Forces maybe? She didn’t ask; he
wouldn’t tell her. Then again, he was a mercenary so everything he told her was
probably a lie anyway.

“So
what happens now?” she asked.

“We
wait.”

“For
Carlos.”

“Yes.”

She
wanted to go to sleep, but she didn’t trust Antonio so she forced her eyes
open.

“How
long have you worked for Carlos?”

“I
don’t work for him.”

“Okay.
How long have you known him?”

“Stop
fishing, it won’t get you anywhere. You can rest. As I told you, I’m not going
to hurt you.”

She
would probably regret it, but she believed him and closed her eyes.

* * * *

She
woke alone and shivering. Still tired, she lay on the ground and fell back
asleep but her dreams were tortured. Seth was whispering to her. So close but
so far away. She couldn’t hear what he was saying. He whispered to her through
the walls of their cells. She could smell blood and fear. Her blood and her
fear. It made her gag. She hurt everywhere, the aches and pains melding into
one big ache. Even her bones hurt. Carlos had been in minutes before and dealt
a harsh punishment. It hurt to remember what he’d done to her. She was in the
dark again and she hated it. But she wasn’t alone. Seth was with her,
whispering to her. He gave her a reason to keep going. If she could get to him,
they could make plans to escape. Both of them.

He
was talking to her again. What was he saying? Why wouldn’t he speak louder?
What was he trying to tell her? It was important and she was failing him. She
fought to get to him, willing her body to move but it disobeyed. Frustration
built until she thought she would explode. She grew weaker after each bout of
torture. Eventually Carlos would deal the blow that would kill her. She had to
get to Seth before that happened.

Then
suddenly Noah was there in her cell telling her she was going to be okay, that
he was going to get her out of there. She was safe now.

But
she wasn’t safe. Carlos was still here and he wanted her. He was going to make
her pay for what she’d done to him. She had betrayed him in the worst way
possible and for that she would never escape him. He had Antonio build this
maze in the mountains to torture her and she was suffering. Brendan was here
somewhere, needing her. She had to get to him.

Noah
was dead and she was alone. She had killed him, the same as Seth. She hadn’t
heard the plans Seth was making, missed the boat, resulting in Seth’s death.
She didn’t stop Carlos from pulling a gun on Noah and now he was dead too. How
was she supposed to live with this kind of burden? Her body hurt, her heart
ached.

Voices
swirled inside her head. Noah’s. Seth’s. Brendan’s. Uncle Jed’s. Carlos’s.
Antonio’s…

“Wake
up,
mi amor
.”

Attie
came awake with a start. She reached instinctively for her knife and sat up,
prepared to fight, blinking to clear her mind, and found herself facing Carlos
and his thugs.

Carlos
held out a hand to her. “Come, you must be famished.”

She
was starving but in no mood to be civil. She would much rather stab her knife
through his black heart. As with everything else since she’d been here, she had
no choice so she pushed herself to her feet without his help. She still had
work to do. Her brother was in this maze somewhere and she would get him out.

She
was led down a series of passages and doors until they ended up in the same
dining room she had first met Carlos in when she arrived. A buffet of foods
lined the table and though her stomach churned it smelled good.

“Sit.
Eat.”

She
sat, but she didn’t eat. The last time she’d sat at this table Noah had been
sitting across from her. It stirred heartbreaking memories, chasing away her
appetite. She drank the glass of water sitting in front of her and forced her
thoughts away. She refused the coffee, remembering what had happened to Noah
the last time he drank it.

“Eat.
I insist,” Carlos said. “Nothing will harm you here.”

Except
him.

Attie
figured she wasn’t going to get anywhere until she did what he asked, so she
picked up her fork and scooped a pile of food into her mouth. She paid no
attention to what she ate, and didn’t care. She would consume it for energy and
nothing else. When her plate was clean, she set her fork down and waited.

“I
heard you say a name in your sleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Seth.
The name of your teammate. The coffee broker from Miami. Or should I say the
undercover coffee broker from Miami? He was as good at his job as you were.”

Attie
felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t like hearing
Seth’s name spoken on Carlos’s lips. Somehow he had found out who they were,
who they worked for. How, no one knew.

“Did
you know that I was planning to expose the two of you the day you tried to
escape?” Carlos asked, watching her through those dark eyes.

Something
cold and dark slipped down her spine as the words sank in. Carlos had known the
truth before Noah ordered their extraction. He had been planning on killing
them. That was what he did to traitors. She had seen enough of Carlos’s private
justice to know that.

Dear
God, Noah’s orders saved their lives. It was her fault that Seth was dead.

“You
knew?”

“Of
course. Did you think you could hide from me?”

Her
mind reeled. “So you knew about us before Seth showed up unassigned?”

“Yes,
and that is why I took great pleasure in slitting your partner’s throat just as
the sun rose the morning after you were put in my cells. It was almost poetic.”

Attie
stared at Carlos, hating him more now than she ever had before. And hating
herself for being too stubborn to know when to quit. Her determination to prove
herself had gotten Seth killed. She had blamed Noah all along for something
that was her fault.

She
reeled from what he’d just said. The morning after? He killed Seth the morning
after? That meant…oh, God, she hadn’t really heard the whispers or the sounds
of torture. She’d imagined it. Everything she’d believed until now had been
wrong. The whispers had been in her mind and not reality.

Everyone
had been right. Uncle Jed, Brendan, Noah, ATCOM. They all tried to tell her
Seth had already been dead when they rescued her. That the whispers she heard
were her way of coping with her imprisonment.

Looking
down, she held out her shaking hands. They were covered in blood. Noah, Seth,
the agent they lost. All because she was too stubborn to see the truth. Too
weak to face the past.

With
sudden clarity she realized the whispers had been her survival mechanism. Seth
had been her lifeline and if it hadn’t been for him, she never would have
survived the brutal punishment.

All
this time she’d been blind to the truth and so caught up in her own guilt that
she couldn’t see what was right in front of her. Noah had saved her life by
following his instincts and sending Seth in. He had done what he could with the
information he received and she had blamed him for it. God, she was a fool. All
this time. All the misery. And now it was too late.

Weary,
Attie pushed her plate away and stared at Carlos. “I hate you,” she said, her
voice low and raw.

Carlos
smiled. “He told me I would never break you.”