The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1) (2 page)

Will couldn’t believe he was not being assisted. Not one team member. No one from the army special forces. The general palmed him off to one of his lackey staff members. It had to be one whom he completely trusted, because the man knew everything. He handed Will some money, without saying a word as to what he should do with it. He instructed that Will would be dropped by a private plane the general had arranged for their use. Then, he was left alone in a room that seemed to be where the general kept his private collection of weapons: guns, ammo, knives, and grenades. He stood up as he waited for someone to come around and tell him what they wanted him to do. But no one came. And his stomach cramped as he figured out his answer,
he was going off the grid. He was acting alone
. He had to rescue the general’s daughter on his own. With that thought, he armed himself generously until he had enough guns and ammo to outfit his own small army.

After
being dropped he would travel the rest of the way using a rental car. The general pinpointed his daughter’s location right down to a damn dot on a map. How did the general know exactly where she was imprisoned? And how did he know so quickly? It rang false. But…short of accusing the general of something, he had no reason not to believe him. Besides the man’s daughter was being held for ransom, he must have immediately collected all of the information he could from the networks of powerful connections he had to have both in Washington D.C., and in the military.

And a
ll he asked of Will was that he go there and bring her home. He was forbidden to contact the general until he had Jessie Bains safely in his custody. Will wondered if anyone would know or care if he were killed.

He considered hiring some men. An ex-
ranger he knew still salivated for this kind of shit: undertaking a mission and playing war with guns and knives. Some men could never assimilate into regular life. But he decided against it. Too risky. Some ex-operatives became bitter at no longer being a part of the drama, although they well understood how it all worked. If anyone realized what a hot bomb they were sitting on with Jessie Bains, Will was sure they’d use it, and he couldn’t risk it. The only person he could trust not to screw it up, or spill the beans, was himself.

Now all he had to do was successfully complete the general’s request or spend the rest of his career scrubbing latrine floors.

Somewhere in Mexico

Jessie Bains’s eyes no longer strained to see in the constant darkness that surrounded her. Initially, she screamed hysterically and carried on, undergoing sheer terror, frustration, and finally, rage. At this point, she truly believed no one cared, and that she really was doomed. The darkness was the worst part. It clung to her and made her feel like she was being drowned in the furthest leagues of the deepest ocean. The darkness was slowly consuming her, gnawing away at her. She was chained to the wall of an unlit cement cell, a heavy steel door the only access to the undersized, square prison.

The walls were cold and slimy from mold and mildew. The air was rancid, stagnant, and stifling. When the hooded stranger first threw her in the enclosure, she recoiled in horror. The coldness of the damp walls, the musty odor, and
her underlying terror of being buried in cement, in the dark, enclosed room, with no access to daylight only made her think of a grave.

She had been confined three days already. She felt like she endured three lifetimes during those
seventy-six hours. Three lifetimes of dread, fear, and sheer terror so gut wrenching and severe, she could never have imagined such horror in her worst nightmare. Intense isolation and claustrophobia, panic, rage, helplessness—nothing in her life could prepare her for this.

But why her? Why was this happening to her?

The critical query in her mind spun around repeatedly in her brain. Why would anyone kidnap her? What could they possibly want from her? She didn’t know who they were, why they grabbed her, or where in the world she now was. She’d only been walking back to her car on a very ordinary evening after a short trip to the local mall. That was it! That was all she was doing. She bought a pair of new shoes and then… a white van stopped beside her. Before she could react or think, much less scream, she was forcibly hoisted into the van. And thus began her descent into the hell she now experienced.

Now, after more than seventy-six hours, she was almost resigned to her fate. After screaming for help until she was hoarse, which she knew in her soul was utterly useless
, no one came to her rescue. She was well and truly alone. But inside, her heart still screamed. Her mouth felt frozen open in terror. And her soul was beginning to shrivel from fright.

She felt exhausted, and couldn’t muster the energy to move. She sat on the floor against the wall, her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms around her legs, and buried her head in her knees, closing her eyes. For some reason, shutting her eyes in the terrifying darkness comforted her. Perhaps it gave her more control, by shutting out the darkness, she could also shut out the tiny cell, and the memory that she was trapped.

She didn’t know if it was day or night, or when she last ate, and was beginning to wonder how long before she forgot her own name.
Feeling more alone and oppressed by the unrelenting dark, her tears were long since dried, as she curled up into a helpless ball. She slept a little, but mostly out of exhaustion. She dreamed of being home… with her sister. She also dreamt of a warm bath… and razor blades… and pain. But this was a pain she could manage. Then she opened her eyes, and had to bite back the groan of dismay. Oh God, it wasn’t a dream! It was real, she was here, really here, it wasn’t a nightmare, it was real, and the sanctuary she found in her sleep was the real dream.

She opened her eyes to a noise.
A new noise.
She pushed her body harder against the wall, wishing it could swallow her up. It was the sound of keys, jingling with each footstep. Then the cruel padlock snapped open. The door to her cell opened up and light poured in. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes and tried to see through the milky light. It wasn’t the daylight, but a bare light bulb in the hallway leading to wherever she was. A whimper of futility escaped her, and she pushed her knees deeper into her chest.
No! No! They couldn’t take her back there! Not again. Not ever again.

The silent, hooded man came forward without a word, or any glimmer of humanity in the dead eyes that
stared at her from under his hood. She cowered and tried to slide on the dirt floor, but the chain around her leg kept her from moving more than a couple of inches away from the hooded man. In an instant, he had her leg in his hand as he inserted another key into the locked chain around her leg. She knew what was next, and the terror it inspired had her twisting, writhing, and shrieking in hoarse yelps as she tried to stay in the relative security of the hovel, despite its unlit dankness. At least, she was left alone there. Knowing she was no match for her silent abductor, or the knife he held at her throat to still her, she obediently complied as she was led out of her cell.

Falling into an exhausted, miserable heap, Jessie watched the door to her dungeon clang shut before she let out a cry. The room was as dark as a coffin. She couldn’t see her hand before her face, or her feet on the floor. She saw nothing. But she felt…
Something.
Something was near her. Something alive. She felt sure of it. There was nothing she could see, and no sound, but she knew, right down to the marrow in her bones, that something alive was near her. Something stirred the air just barely, but enough for her to know it was something alive.

All at once, a small, laser-like beam, similar to the sight on a sniper’s rifle, flashed through the small cell. She cowered at first, then stopped, as she realized it was merely the beam from the smallest flashlight she’d ever seen. Hardly more than a thread of light, but against the blackness, it seemed almost like a floodlight, illuminating the unending, stifling void of darkness.

Jessie looked up, and up some more, before she comprehended there was a man in her cell. He was standing against the door, but started to take a half step forward, towards her, following the small ray of light he pointed at her.

She scrambled to her feet as best she could, but clumsily, as her legs were nearly numb from lack of exercise and blood circulation. The chain restrained her to no more than three feet from the wall behind her. She was preparing to scream when the phantom spoke.

“Your father sent me.”

The disembodied voice was so soft, and whisper-like, she almost failed to hear it.
Her father?
He sent someone to her
here
? But how? How could anyone know where to find her? She couldn’t make any sense of it. How did this man get into her cell? How could she not hear the rusty, old hinges squeaking open? Every other time, its creaks alerted and prepared her. How did this nameless, faceless person manage to get in without her knowing?

“Do you understand, Ms. Bains? I’ve come to get you out.”

He said her name.
No one here ever called her anything. Here, she was faceless, nameless, and less than human. But this man called her by her name. He couldn’t be one of them. He just couldn’t be.

“Don’t scream. Be quiet
,” the voice warned, stepping closer. Now she could barely make out his shape. He was big, and wearing dark clothes, with something on his head.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

He stepped forward until he was right next to her. “The door,” he whispered into her ear. “When they took you out, I slipped in and hid behind the door until they brought you back.”

The door? He said it as if it were a casual walk through the building. A building that was crawling with armed men. How could they get out now that they were both locked in the cell?

Jessie’s voice was so hoarse, she found it hard to speak, as well as find the words she wanted to say. “Who are you?”

“Colonel
Hendricks. I’m a ranger.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. So much relief, so much indescribable gratitude did she feel that she almost fell onto her knees. He was military!
He was one of her father’s beloved 75
th
ranger regiment! There was no other group her father loved more. Oh God, her father really did send this man for her. Hope renewed her. She might not die down here.

She swayed on her feet, and his hand gripped her elbow. “Can you stand?”

She opened her eyes. She could stand. She
had
to stand. She could do anything this man asked her to get out of here. She nodded. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold onto him. She wanted to beg him to never leave her alone again. Not here. Not in this black hole. She’d do anything he asked if he would not abandon her here.

The light suddenly traveled over her and he hesitated. She sensed it. He didn’t know what to say to her. Finally, however, he whispered, “Can you make it out of here on your own feet?”

She couldn’t imagine what a sight she must have been, or what he thought or saw. But she would gladly do anything to escape what she feared might soon become her grave. “Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me here,” she spoke in a hushed whisper. Her tone was so strained and filled with so much desperation, she almost started to cry. “Please, just don’t leave me here.”

He was staring at her despite the darkness. She had no
idea what he looked like. She knew nothing of him, except he was now privy to the most intimate, humiliating, and painful moments of her life. She didn’t even care. She only cared that he was here now and would never leave her behind.

“I won’t leave you
, Ms. Bains,” his voice assured her softly, and confidently. She believed him too. The way he said it made her nearly collapse with relief into him. She believed in him more than she ever believed in anyone. She knew if he were lying, she’d certainly and most literally die. She would curl up into a ball and die right there in her cell.

“How do we get out?”

He started to answer,
but suddenly stiffened. “Shhh!”

What did he hear? She could hear nothing as he switched his light off, and moved as silently as a shadow back to his hiding spot
. By the time the noisy padlock and keys sounded, he seemed to completely disappear. It was as if she were, once again, all alone in her cell. She started trembling. Oh God, help was so close, she regained so much strength, thinking she wasn’t alone here. But now, they were back. And she was, once again, their prisoner. What could this man do to save her now?

The hooded captor lumbered towards her when, out of nowhere, he stopped and dropped to his knees. Right at her feet. She gasped. What happened?

She looked down
to see blood coloring the floor.
Holy shit!
The man’s throat was slashed. The soldier came up behind her captor so quickly and so silently, even she couldn’t detect his movement, and she knew he was there. Relief washed over her, and in stunned disbelief, she saw that her hooded captor was dead. Bleeding out over her feet. She recoiled in horror and finally looked up at the soldier, who was dimly illuminated by the glow of the light bulb slicing through the open door.

He leaned down and frisked the man he just dispatched, removing the man’s knife that had more than once been pressed against her neck. Rolling her captor over, he started removing his shirt as quickly and easily as one would undress a doll. Then the soldier straightened, and approached her once more. He remained as cool and calm as if he’d just shook the man’s hand, never mind slitting his throat. Her liberator was as deadly, and as quick as anything she ever imagined. He handed her the dirty, overpoweringly odorous shirt off the dead captor.

She took it, unable to look her rescuer in the eye. He noticed, and knew of course, that she was naked and dirty from being chained to the wall in the dark. He had just addressed her first concern, how could she escape totally naked? She slipped the stinking black shirt over her head, grateful for the first offer of decency since she was thrown into the cell after being brutally stripped.

The shirt hung down to her knees, and was stretched out at the armpits, but she was grateful for having something to hide her body in. Her phantom soldier then stepped over the body, and approached her. He knelt down on one knee and placed his gloved hand gently on her ankle, where the chain abraded her skin into bloody scabs. He shone the light beam onto it. She bit her lip, almost crying out in frustration. She couldn’t stand another second of feeling trapped. Then she realized what was happening.
He had the keys!
Of course, he took the keys off the guard he killed.

The lock on the chain anklet gave, and for the first time in more than three days, she was free of the cursed wall. Tears fell, blinding her vision.

“We don’t have long. Someone is bound to investigate why you aren’t with this man, going wherever he was ordered to take you.”

“How long have you been in here?”

She sensed his pause as he glanced up at her. “Awhile. I learned their routine, and waited for the first opportunity.”

She thought about his answer. He must know then. She felt his gaze fixed on her, even in the dark. Without any words or verification, she was somehow sure, he must have seen or known what
they did to her.

“Do as I say, and follow me as quietly as you can. I’m going to lead us out of here, hopefully before they find out I ever came. Can you do that?”

She looked at him. “Yes. Yes, I can do anything you need of me.”

He placed
something in her hand and when she glanced down, she saw it was a gun.

“Do you know how to use it?”

“No.”

“Pull here to release the safety. Then point and shoot. Don’t hesitate if something happens. If I can’t help you. Do it,” he commanded with a step back, before adding, “just try not to hit me.”

She heard the wryness in his tone and was surprised at his injection of humor, and humanity. She was so removed from her real life, she couldn’t remember how normal felt anymore. She was holding a gun in her hand and commanded to use it if she needed to.

She held the small weapon in her sweaty hands. She found some reassurance in its power, which she lost during the nightmare she endured.

“Come on.”

Suddenly, the soldier turned, and started towards the door. He motioned for her to follow him. After checking the hallway, he locked the cell door behind him as if Jessie were still in there. He looked right and left before starting down the gloomy corridor. He walked fast, and so quietly, she couldn’t hear the impact of his boots. She trailed him as if a cord ran between them. He was her only hope. She’d die down here if they did
n’t make it. Now that she was free, she swore she’d shoot herself before anyone took her back to the darkness. She couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t face it again. Not ever.