Page 13 of Forty Days and One Knight
As Darius worked quickly to open the other cells, he could tell the women recognized him as one of the men who’d held them captive. They weren’t about to trust him as far as they could throw him, but he had to, at least, try to put their minds at ease. “I was undercover and was never going to let them sell you.”
When he reached the last cell, his hand froze an inch away from sliding the key in the lock. “Where’s Princess Tahira?”
The younger woman, Nala, burst into tears, her body trembling forcibly. Her cousin, Lahana, slowly got to her feet. Her face, arms, torso, and legs were covered in bruises, some deeper than others. Darius fought to keep the rage those bruises inspired off his face, as she answered him. “That bastard took her. He’s going to rape her, just like he did to me and some of the others.”
Her voice was stronger than he’d expected. Whereas some of the women were timid and fearful, the others seemed to find their strength in the presence of their rescuers.
“Where?” Darius asked, although if he had to guess, the son of a bitch had taken Tahira to his suite.
Lahana shrugged. “I don’t know. Somewhere upstairs.”
A young blonde who’d stepped out of her now open cell, touched his arm, getting his attention. “He drugs them before he assaults them. You have to save her.”
That was a given. “How long ago did he take her?”
Sorrow filled her pretty blue eyes. “Long enough.”
“Shit.” He spoke into his watch. “Boss-man?”
“Go,” Ian replied.
“Her Highness is upstairs, probably on the second floor.” He left out the fact she was most likely in Secada’s suite. “I’m going after her.” Ignoring the other man’s string of curses, Darius turned to Costello, who had finished coaxing the rest of the women from their cells. “Get them out of here; I’ll get Tahira.”
“I’ll go with you,” the female sniper said with fire in her eyes.
Darius had never seen her so pissed and almost said yes just to see her unleash a shit-ton of fury on Secada’s ass. Instead, he shook his head and started for the stairs. “No. Romeo can’t take care of all of them by himself; especially with the chance of a crossfire. Get them out of here. I’ll get Tahira and head for the exfil.”
Knowing he was right, Costello immediately but reluctantly agreed. “Fine, but if you run into trouble, you better holler.”
“Will do.”
Leaving his teammates to do what they did best, Darius took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the first floor, he pulled his 9mm handgun from its holster on his hip. While the AK-47 on his back had more firepower, he had more control and accuracy with the pistol. Sweeping it back and forth in front of him, looking for targets, he quickly made his way to the second floor, then paused to listen for any movement beyond the doorway. To give himself a better range of motion, he quickly removed the heavy jacket he’d been wearing for guard duty and left it at the top of the stairs. It would be restrictive in a fight. The moment he stepped into the hall, there was a clap of thunder, followed by the reports of assault rifles and cursing coming through his comms unit. If he hadn’t had the unit in his ear, he wouldn’t have heard the shots over the loud storm, but it was clear all hell had broken loose.Shit.
Taking a left, he stealthily approached Secada’s suite, while listening for anyone else moving about the house. It was highly unlikely any of the guards would make their way into the house with all the gunfire outside, but the mission had already gone FUBAR. And Darius had a feeling it was about to get worse, if that was at all possible.
With his weapon up and ready to fire, he gently tried the doorknob. No sense in kicking it in if it was already unlocked. The knob turned with his hand. Taking a steadying breath, Darius shoved the door open, stepped inside, and scanned the room, the muzzle of his gun always aimed in the same direction as his gaze. His heart and stomach sank. Tahira was unconscious and naked on the big bed, her legs splayed open, a nasty bruise on her face, and her hair in disarray. Semen and blood painted the insides of her thighs and the sheet between them. He was too late.
But she was alone.
Movement to his left had Darius pivoting but not fast enough. Wearing only pants, Secada dove out the open bathroom doorway and tackled him. The two men tumbled to the floor, with Darius landing on his back with the AK-47 between him and the floor. His breath was knocked out of him as his handgun went flying across the room. Secada smashed his fist into Darius’s face. He would feel the pain later, but Darius was running on adrenaline and rage. He blocked the next punch before it made contact. Grabbing the back of Secada’s skull, Darius pulled him closer and head-butted him. Taking advantage of the stars the other man had to be seeing, Darius flipped him over and reversed their positions, but Secada recovered fast. They struggled, each trying to get the upper hand. Darius was surprised at the other man’s strength, but the cartel lieutenant was no match for the retired Navy SEAL. Two jabs to the bastard’s nose broke it, then sent the shards up into his brain.
Panting, Darius relaxed back on his heels, Secada’s dead eyes staring up at him. “I hope you went straight to hell, asshole.”
He stood and didn’t give the other man a second thought as he rushed over to the bed. Tahira was still unconscious—probably from whatever drug Secada had given her, since the bruise on her face didn’t seem bad enough to have knocked her out. Grabbing a blanket from where it’d been tossed to the side, Darius gently wrapped her abused body up in it, then picked her up in his arms. He had to get her out of there quickly but decided to take a moment to afford her some decency and warmth.
Swiftly carrying her out into the hallway, he headed for Diaz’s master bedroom, snatching his own jacket from the top of the backstairs. The drug czar’s widow was about Tahira’s size and was about to donate some clothes. He paused inside the suite, looking for a place to put her down—definitely not on the bed with the dead drug lord. There was a sitting area in front of an unlit gas fireplace across the room, and Darius laid the unconscious woman down on a chaise lounge.
He tenderly brushed a few strands of hair from her face, rage filling him when he got a better look at the swollen bruise on her cheek. Three small, oval discolorations along her right jaw and one on her left were just the right size to be made by fingertips, and Darius was tempted to go back to Secada’s room and cut the fucker’s dick off and shove it down his throat. Two reasons prevented him from doing so: Secada wouldn’t feel a thing, and Darius was in a hurry. He didn’t even have time to clean Tahira up, though he was afraid if he did, she’d be mortified when she realized he’d done so. Would that be worse than needing to clean herself? He didn’t know.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get there fast enough, Princess,” he murmured, guilt plaguing his gut.
Hesitant to leave her for even a moment, Darius forced himself to find some clothing for her. Entering the suite’s walk-in closet, he selected a pair of designer, dark-green, velour sweatpants, a long-sleeved, black knit shirt, and a deep eggplant-colored, zip-up sweater. None of it matched, but fashion wasn’t a concern right now.
Next, he found some black socks, sneakers, and a warm parka, just in case. He’d be carrying her the half mile to the exfil site, but it might take longer than planned, and he wanted to reduce the risk of her getting hypothermia between the rain and cold temperatures if those plans changed. The blanket would have to do for now. It was dark blue and would keep her from being lit up like a Christmas tree if the beam of a flashlight hit her. Even a bolt of lightning would reflect white or light-colored fabric.
Finding a duffel bag on a shelf at the back of the closet, he stuffed the garments and shoes into it. There wasn’t enough time to dress her now, but he’d take care of it as soon as he could. And since everything had already going to shit on this mission, he wanted to have clothes for her in case they ran into another snafu.
As he bent down to pick her up again, an explosion rocked the house under his feet, and Darius’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck?”
