Page 3 of Maddox

I’d extracted dozens of men and women during my career, most injured or displaying the effects of torture and starvation. Some had attempted to display bravado in the middle of a shit storm, but the defiance on the woman’s face along with her determination to protect the other prisoners was notable.

And a pain in my ass.

Yet she was strikingly beautiful, even covered in sweat and ugly bruises, her long hair plastered to her face.

My observation skills were keen, honed by years of facing unknown enemies. This woman had no intention of backing down even in the face of extreme danger.

“Lieutenant Maddox Grant. I’m here to escort you to safety.” I shifted the light to the other prisoners, broken women who’d obviously been here for a long time. Their gaunt faces, rags for clothes, and bruised bodies were a clear indication of the horrific treatment they’d received. “You’re Charmaine Douglas?”

She stared at me, never blinking. “Yes.” Her answer was given through clenched teeth.

“We need to leave. Now.” Time was ticking. To top everything off, it was the goddamn monsoon season.

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

A single noise caught both our attention. Whatever we’d heard was a reminder we had no time to stand around and chitchat. “Sweetheart. We don’t have time to play games. Either you come with me, or you will die. It’s as simple as that.”

Charmaine kept shifting from foot to foot, only this time moving closer. Did she really think picking a fight would do her any good? “Not without the others.”

“I was ordered to bring you to safety. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Come with me. Now.”

She took a defiant step backwards, folding her arms. “Then I’m not going. Not until you at least let them go.”

“Christ’s sake. I’m one man.”

She shook her head.

The woman wasn’t going to budge.

How the hell had an extraction become such a pain in the ass?

“Fine,” I hissed. “But you will do as I say. They can fend for themselves.” I hadn’t been offered the resources to save the others. That had been left up so someone else.

“Asshole,” she muttered.

The woman had no idea.

I moved toward the door preventing the hostages from escaping, shooting off the lock. As soon as I threw open the door, I moved into the night air. “Come on. Everyone. Let’s get going. Stay close to the river and you’ll find a town about four kilometers from here.” I put the goggles back in place, turning off the light. The last thing we needed was to draw any attention.

The women had been brutalized, most moving slowly. There was no chance in hell I could guide a group of ten women to safety. The odds of survival were already against them.

I stood guard while the other prisoners moved into the darkness, calculating the time we had left before another brigade of soldiers moved in.

Maybe three minutes.

Some scattered immediately, others unsure of what to do. “Manténgase fuera de la vista. Siga el río,” I told them in Spanish this time.

Stay out of sight. Follow the river.

There was no way of knowing their nationalities. They could be anyone. Tourists. Wives of foreign government leaders. Students. The man holding them used them as bait or as whores. Whatever suited his disgusting mood.

At least the light of the torches guided their way. While I hated leaving them, I had no other choice.

The sound of loud voices seemed to knock them from their trance, almost all finding resilience deep within. They scattered into the night, surprisingly silent given all they’d endured.

I didn’t waste any time, taking Charmaine by the arm and heading in the opposite direction.

“Where are you taking me?” she threw out, struggling in my hold.

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