Page 57 of Prisoner of War
Chapter Thirteen
He came for her after fifteen minutes.
Minnie leaned against the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, with a bored expression. He unlocked the cuff secured to the foot of the bed without comment and made no attempt to catch her gaze with his own.
From the other side of the partly open door she could hear the murmur of male voices. Fast Spanish interspersed with low chuckles.
Zalaya carried the cuff through to his office, drawing the chain with him. The chain tugged her into motion and she strolled through the doorway, trying to make her stance and her bearing as careless as possible. It was difficult to pull off because she was shaking and her adrenaline was surging in sickly waves. With Duardo as Zalaya, she knew that no matter what Zalaya demanded of her, Duardowould find a way to protect her from the worst of it. He was already risking much by keeping her in his room. The other Insurrectos had been disappointed that he didn’t place her directly into the bordello, which meant keeping her had been a break with custom. Breaks in custom could breed suspicion, but he had taken the chance anyway.
Now he had to dangle her before this congregation of savagesbecause that was also something that Zalaya would do. It was even more important that she keep up the façade when she was in the same room as these men.
As she stepped through, Zalaya was closing the cuff around the drawer handle. There were five officers, all sitting around Zalaya’s desk. They looked up at her and eyes widened, a jaw dropped. Soto was there again and his slow smile was the worst,as his eyes crawled over her.
There was a chuckle and a comment in Spanish. Minnie understood enough words to put together the intent of it.Is this the latest toy, Zalaya?
Zalaya shrugged, sat at his desk and brought his leg up to rest the booted heel on the surface. “I’ve yet to decide if she is worth the trouble,” he said in Spanish. He pointed to the communications console on the other sideof his desk. “The tray there. Pour coffee for everyone,” he said in English. “And don’t spill any on the console.”
“She’s American?” one of the men said, sounding displeased.
Minnie slid past the back of Zalaya’s tilted chair, heading for the wide console where the big silver tray sat, loaded with a huge coffeepot and stacks of crockery and condiments.
“Australian,” Zalaya corrected. “Althoughwe’re still confirming that.”
Minnie realized that Zalaya’s Spanish was clear and easier to understand than the others’. He used none of the metaphors and slang that peppered the others’ talk.
“Does she understand us?” came the cautious question.
“Enough, I think,” Zalaya answered. “Do not trouble yourself about security, Correa. What she learns will never leave here.”
A shudder rippled downMinnie’s spine. She understood that implication only too clearly. Zalaya was not bothering to hide anything from her because she would not survive to pass the information along.
She shook her hand to get the cuff out of the way and picked up the first bowl of heavily spiced coffee. She placed it in front of the closest officer—an unshaven, grossly fat man with wobbling jowls and sharp eyes thatogled her breasts as she leaned over to place the bowl down. As she straightened up he grabbed her rear and squeezed painfully.
She stepped back half a step and her spiked heel rammed down on his instep. As he grunted and grabbed at his boot, she turned away without comment and picked up the second cup. The officer she placed it in front of didn’t touch her, but he chuckled as she turned awayand so did the others. She saw in one of the monitors on the console that he was holding his hands up as if he were weighing a pair of melons in each hand. He was silently describing her breasts to the rest of them, who were chuckling their appreciation.
She gritted her teeth harder and brought the third cup over to Soto. He was not laughing. Nor did he smile. There was sweat at his temple ashe watched Minnie with the intensity of a cat watching a mouse.
She put the cup down carefully, just as Soto’s hand rammed its way between her thighs.
She jerked back, looking for his shoe with her heel and unable to find it. His other hand grabbed her breast and the rest of the men in the room chuckled, including Zalaya.
She tried to take another step back and this time the results were immediateand spectacular, for the chain around her wrist had somehow looped itself around Soto’s bowl of coffee. Her step backward jerked the entire bowl into Soto’s lap.
Soto clutched at his crotch and screamed. He pulled at the steaming, sodden fabric of his pants, squirming on the chair.
“Idiot!” Zalaya cried. He pulled on the chain to bring her around the table to his side then grabbed her arm andpushed her into the bedroom. Duardo was getting her out of the snake pit.
She turned in time to see him unlock the cuff from his desk with jerky, furious movements. His face was red with anger. How did he do that? He looked certifiable. He slapped the cuff back around the bed frame.
“You are useless,” he told her in Spanish, which meant he wanted the men behind him to hear. The door behind himwas wide open and everyone but Soto was leaning to see into the room, their heads bobbing as they moved to see around Zalaya’s back.
The name of the game was humiliation, Minnie reminded herself.
He went back into the office, his cane thumping. The sound of the lock turning on the office door was another thud.
Minnie stared at the closed door. It wasn’t really closed. There was a whole bankof monitors out there at his command. His view of her out there was as clear as the view he’d had of her when he had sat upon the chair watching her shower that morning. His men could see her just as easily on the monitors.
Minnie made herself stretch like a cat, long and luxuriously. She ruffled her hair to portray total indifference as she thought swiftly. She would not give them a second’smore entertainment than possible and if they were watching the monitors, she knew they would be ogling her again and making crude comments to each other.
