Page 47 of Croatia Collateral

“Yeah,” she said. “I could really use the knives they took.”

He glanced toward the door with the faint glow of a flashlight. “Will a plastic one help?” he whispered.

“They didn’t confiscate it?” she said, matching his lowered voice.

“Can you reach it?” he asked.

“I think so.” She bumped into him several times, scooting and twisting until her hands skimmed across his ankle, feeling for the sheath.

The touch of her fingertips against his skin reminded him of the bed in their hotel room that had yet to have its sheets rumpled.

Dax leaned toward her, his mouth close to her shoulder as he said, “Hurry it up, Sweet Cheeks. We have a raincheck to cash in on.”

Her fingers fumbled, and the sound of lightweight plastic clattered against the stone.

He chuckled in an attempt to calm frayed nerves. “Need a hand?”

“Very funny. As a matter of fact, I could use two. Unbound hands,” she emphasized. “Turn your back to me.”

He scooted around until his back was to hers.

Her fingers felt for his, found the zip tie and maneuvered the plastic knife into the narrow gap.

“Hold it steady. I’ll move,” he said.

She held the knife still while he moved his wrists up and down, pressing the zip tie into the blade.

Moments later, the zip tie snapped.

Dax spun, felt for her hands, took the knife and sliced through her zip tie.

He pushed to his feet, swayed momentarily, then helped Giva stand.

So, they were unbound. Unfortunately, they were still locked in a dungeon with a guard outside the door. Was there one guard or two?

Dax inched his way across the dark floor, following the glow of the flashlight bouncing off the passage wall across from the iron bar door.

The Russian guard leaned against the wall beside the door, swinging the flashlight up and down, shining it against the wall in front of him, apparently bored.

Every so often, he swung the light left then right, illuminating the passage.

From what Dax could see, a guard was on either side of the door. Only one held a flashlight. The other held a little device is his hand.

The damned stun gun.

They’d been told not to let the prisoners out of their sight.

Dax backed away from the door and pulled Giva close, his hands encircling the back of her neck. He could barely see her in what little light filtered through from the flashlight in the passage. “I need you to go to the other end of the dungeon, scream and drop to the ground. Play dead.”

She nodded, leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “The man on the left has the stun gun.”

Dax nodded, crushed her to him and kissed her long and hard. “Be ready.” He released her and moved to stand to the side of the door, out of sight if the guards peered in.

Giva moved to the far end of the dungeon, dropped to her knees and let out an ear-piercing scream that echoed off the walls.

She dropped to the ground and lay at an odd angle as if she’d been murdered.

The Russian guards turned toward the door made of metal bars and shined the light into the chamber.

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