Whispers in the Dark (KGI 4)
She’d battled her decision to continue westward. But she’d already traveled extensively over the United States. Would her pursuers expect her to double back? She hoped not. She hoped she was making the right strategic choice. Wouldn’t it be the very last place they’d expect her to hide?
She climbed into her car and for a moment she sat there, hands curled around the steering wheel. She was tired. So tired. Of running. Of being separated from her sister. Of worrying that nothing would ever be the same again in her life.
At what point would it all end?
Nagging doubt crept in and her nostrils flared in anger. She’d just given Nathan a rah-rah speech about not giving up, about not being fatalistic and about having hope. She could use a healthy dose of her own advice.
She keyed the ignition, slammed the vehicle into gear and said good-bye to Colorado.
CHAPTER 5
NATHAN awoke when the door of his cell flew open and he was blinded by white light. He flung an arm up to cover his eyes but he was hauled to his feet and dragged out.
This time he took closer stock of his surroundings as they forced him into a chair and tied his arms behind his back. A chill pervaded the air, making the sweat on his body blow cold. It was damp and the scents of unwashed bodies, urine and blood made his nostrils flare in distaste.
Silver flashed in front of his eyes. One of the men waved a knife as another began shouting the same questions they asked every time he was interrogated. Maybe they meant to kill him today. Or maybe they were altering their torture methods.
Strangely, calm acceptance settled over him, and he fixed them with a cold stare.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Even if they didn’t fully understand the expression, they could certainly ascertain the sentiment.
Fire exploded down his arm. He flinched and then glanced down to see a thin cut opened, blood streaming down his flesh.
His lip curled. “Is that the best you can do? Untie me, asshole. Let’s even the odds a little.”
This time the knife slashed across his chest in a measured cut meant to inflict pain, but not mortal damage.
He ground his teeth together and focused on breathing in and out. He could endure this. He’d suffered far worse already.
Then warmth crept through his body and he felt sunshine fill his mind. Instead of welcoming it, he screamed a silent no.
Get out, Shea! Get the hell out of my head. I don’t want you here, damn it.
Do or say nothing to further anger them, she said in the voice he’d already associated with everything good in the world.
He felt her flinch, and it took him a moment to realize that he’d been cut again. He stared down in horror as blood trickled down his chest. But he felt nothing.
She wrapped herself completely around him, holding him, offering her warmth and caring and all the while he could smell her blood from the wound given to him.
Never, never had he felt more helpless as he sat there being slowly carved up by a knife that he couldn’t even feel. He couldn’t even feel her pain. She was working hard to keep it all from him.
Tears ran freely down his cheeks, not because of what was being done to him, but because she suffered in his stead. It was more than he could bear.
His fingers dug into the ropes binding him and he clawed relentlessly, trying to break free so he could kill the sons of bitches who were causing Shea so much pain. He’d die before he allowed her to continue hurting.
Just be still, Nathan, and maybe they’ll leave you alone. Don’t do anything to anger them. Please. It will all be over soon. It’s only temporary for me. You know this.
As much as he wanted to rage, he willed himself to quell the hatred and fury that burned so hotly within him. For her, he would do it because it was she who was hurting. Not him. Not him, goddamn it.
She was slick with blood and it threatened what little control he had left over his sanity.
Get the hell away from me, Shea. I don’t want you here. This isn’t yours to take for me.
It nearly broke him when she raised her hand to softly touch his cheek. A simple gesture of comfort. She was comforting him when she was taking the brunt of his torture.
Please, Shea. Don’t do this. God, don’t do this. Not for me. I can take it. They won’t break me. I’m not giving up. I swear it. Just please go. Break off.
She merely wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body close. He hugged her back as they both endured hell.
His focus was so great on her that he hadn’t realized they’d stopped and his hands were free until they yanked him to his feet. His knees buckled and he went down, his palms hitting the floor. Again, he was hauled to his feet and forced back to the cell. He’d never been so grateful to go back to that dark hole.
He collapsed into the corner, and he ran his hands down his body. They came away with blood, but he ignored his wounds. His concern was for Shea. Her presence was faint now, and he had to concentrate hard to bring her back into focus.
She was huddled in a corner weeping softly. Blood smeared her body and her mind was filled with pain.
His eyelids burned and his heart splintered. He gathered her gently into his arms and rocked back and forth.
Why, Shea? Why?
Despair was a never-ending cloak of black that furled over him until he was consumed with it. This had the power to break him as nothing else. That she’d sacrificed so much for him was unfathomable.
He stroked her hair, not wanting to touch any other part of her for fear of hurting the wounds. His wounds. The knot in his throat threatened to choke him.
You don’t need to be so horrified. Her voice was shaky but there was a thread of steel infused into her words. It isn’t as bad as you think. The pain is already receding. The wounds will disappear soon.
How could she be so calm about it? She’d just had a knife taken to her body because she was protecting him. Who the hell did that for someone they didn’t even know?
You shouldn’t have interfered, he said fiercely.
She smiled and put her small hand to his chest. You have to be strong if you’re going to escape. I’m going to keep you strong. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.
I’ll never be able to repay what you’ve done.
You going back home to your family is payment enough.
Are you feeling better yet? He couldn’t keep the anxious note from creeping into his voice. Her pain was still very much present in his consciousness but it seemed more distant. He didn’t know if it was because he wanted so much for it to be gone or if she was in fact recovering.
I’m better. I told you it wouldn’t last long. I’ll be weak for a bit, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. I want you to concentrate on getting stronger so you can escape.
You’re a bossy little thing.
She smiled again. My sister says the same thing.
She’d battled her decision to continue westward. But she’d already traveled extensively over the United States. Would her pursuers expect her to double back? She hoped not. She hoped she was making the right strategic choice. Wouldn’t it be the very last place they’d expect her to hide?
She climbed into her car and for a moment she sat there, hands curled around the steering wheel. She was tired. So tired. Of running. Of being separated from her sister. Of worrying that nothing would ever be the same again in her life.
At what point would it all end?
Nagging doubt crept in and her nostrils flared in anger. She’d just given Nathan a rah-rah speech about not giving up, about not being fatalistic and about having hope. She could use a healthy dose of her own advice.
She keyed the ignition, slammed the vehicle into gear and said good-bye to Colorado.
CHAPTER 5
NATHAN awoke when the door of his cell flew open and he was blinded by white light. He flung an arm up to cover his eyes but he was hauled to his feet and dragged out.
This time he took closer stock of his surroundings as they forced him into a chair and tied his arms behind his back. A chill pervaded the air, making the sweat on his body blow cold. It was damp and the scents of unwashed bodies, urine and blood made his nostrils flare in distaste.
Silver flashed in front of his eyes. One of the men waved a knife as another began shouting the same questions they asked every time he was interrogated. Maybe they meant to kill him today. Or maybe they were altering their torture methods.
Strangely, calm acceptance settled over him, and he fixed them with a cold stare.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Even if they didn’t fully understand the expression, they could certainly ascertain the sentiment.
Fire exploded down his arm. He flinched and then glanced down to see a thin cut opened, blood streaming down his flesh.
His lip curled. “Is that the best you can do? Untie me, asshole. Let’s even the odds a little.”
This time the knife slashed across his chest in a measured cut meant to inflict pain, but not mortal damage.
He ground his teeth together and focused on breathing in and out. He could endure this. He’d suffered far worse already.
Then warmth crept through his body and he felt sunshine fill his mind. Instead of welcoming it, he screamed a silent no.
Get out, Shea! Get the hell out of my head. I don’t want you here, damn it.
Do or say nothing to further anger them, she said in the voice he’d already associated with everything good in the world.
He felt her flinch, and it took him a moment to realize that he’d been cut again. He stared down in horror as blood trickled down his chest. But he felt nothing.
She wrapped herself completely around him, holding him, offering her warmth and caring and all the while he could smell her blood from the wound given to him.
Never, never had he felt more helpless as he sat there being slowly carved up by a knife that he couldn’t even feel. He couldn’t even feel her pain. She was working hard to keep it all from him.
Tears ran freely down his cheeks, not because of what was being done to him, but because she suffered in his stead. It was more than he could bear.
His fingers dug into the ropes binding him and he clawed relentlessly, trying to break free so he could kill the sons of bitches who were causing Shea so much pain. He’d die before he allowed her to continue hurting.
Just be still, Nathan, and maybe they’ll leave you alone. Don’t do anything to anger them. Please. It will all be over soon. It’s only temporary for me. You know this.
As much as he wanted to rage, he willed himself to quell the hatred and fury that burned so hotly within him. For her, he would do it because it was she who was hurting. Not him. Not him, goddamn it.
She was slick with blood and it threatened what little control he had left over his sanity.
Get the hell away from me, Shea. I don’t want you here. This isn’t yours to take for me.
It nearly broke him when she raised her hand to softly touch his cheek. A simple gesture of comfort. She was comforting him when she was taking the brunt of his torture.
Please, Shea. Don’t do this. God, don’t do this. Not for me. I can take it. They won’t break me. I’m not giving up. I swear it. Just please go. Break off.
She merely wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body close. He hugged her back as they both endured hell.
His focus was so great on her that he hadn’t realized they’d stopped and his hands were free until they yanked him to his feet. His knees buckled and he went down, his palms hitting the floor. Again, he was hauled to his feet and forced back to the cell. He’d never been so grateful to go back to that dark hole.
He collapsed into the corner, and he ran his hands down his body. They came away with blood, but he ignored his wounds. His concern was for Shea. Her presence was faint now, and he had to concentrate hard to bring her back into focus.
She was huddled in a corner weeping softly. Blood smeared her body and her mind was filled with pain.
His eyelids burned and his heart splintered. He gathered her gently into his arms and rocked back and forth.
Why, Shea? Why?
Despair was a never-ending cloak of black that furled over him until he was consumed with it. This had the power to break him as nothing else. That she’d sacrificed so much for him was unfathomable.
He stroked her hair, not wanting to touch any other part of her for fear of hurting the wounds. His wounds. The knot in his throat threatened to choke him.
You don’t need to be so horrified. Her voice was shaky but there was a thread of steel infused into her words. It isn’t as bad as you think. The pain is already receding. The wounds will disappear soon.
How could she be so calm about it? She’d just had a knife taken to her body because she was protecting him. Who the hell did that for someone they didn’t even know?
You shouldn’t have interfered, he said fiercely.
She smiled and put her small hand to his chest. You have to be strong if you’re going to escape. I’m going to keep you strong. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.
I’ll never be able to repay what you’ve done.
You going back home to your family is payment enough.
Are you feeling better yet? He couldn’t keep the anxious note from creeping into his voice. Her pain was still very much present in his consciousness but it seemed more distant. He didn’t know if it was because he wanted so much for it to be gone or if she was in fact recovering.
I’m better. I told you it wouldn’t last long. I’ll be weak for a bit, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. I want you to concentrate on getting stronger so you can escape.
You’re a bossy little thing.
She smiled again. My sister says the same thing.
As soon as the mention of her sister echoed through his mind, sadness came right behind.
Where is your sister? Are you both in trouble?
Again he sensed her withdrawal. It frustrated him that she was so tight lipped about whatever difficulties she was having. She was very alone. He sensed her loneliness—and her fear. He wasn’t mistaken about that. He should be helping her but instead he was stuck in this hellhole with her taking the brunt of his torture.
She’s safe, Shea finally said. We can’t be together right now, but she’s safe and that’s all that matters.
And are you safe? Are you taken care of? Or are you completely on your own with no protection and no help?
I’m doing what I have to do.
And what is that, Shea? Talk to me. What are you running from? Why are neither you nor your sister safe? Damn it, I can help you just like you’re helping me.
Your family’s focus has to be on helping you. They can’t help me. I can’t afford to trust anyone. I don’t even know for sure who is after me and my sister.
Nathan blew out his breath. His helplessness was pissing him off. It was obvious that she absolutely believed she was in danger, and it infuriated him that she was helping him, which made her even more vulnerable.
You seem to be focused on protecting an awful lot of people, Shea. Me, your sister. What about you?
I’m only doing what needs to be done. Grace is special. I can’t allow her to be exploited.
Does she have your abilities? Is that why people are looking for you?
He latched on to the implication in her statement and felt her immediate regret that she’d been too careless with information.
She can do far more than I can.
Shea went silent after that announcement, refusing to offer more.
More than Shea could do? Nathan couldn’t imagine anyone being able to do more than Shea had done for him. She was able to talk to him, touch him, take his pain, bear his torture for him. What the hell else was there?
But he sensed the truth in Shea’s words. Whether her sister could do more or not, Shea believed it. She grew fiercer when she thought of Grace, and Nathan had already learned that Shea was nothing if not intensely loyal to the people she chose to protect.
Are you still bleeding?
She stirred and then shook her head. No. The marks are disappearing. It doesn’t hurt much anymore.
You should rest.
As should you. Whether you feel the pain or not, they made cuts to your entire body. You’ll be weaker and now you risk infection. You have to stay strong, Nathan. Don’t let them defeat you. Not when escape is so close.
Then rest with me. I’ll sleep better if I know you’re here with me. I may not be able to protect you, but at least I’ll know you’re safe.
She yawned and he pulled her a little closer, liking the way she fit so well against him, even if it was all in his mind.
For the space of a few moments, he could forget that they were thousands of miles apart, that he was imprisoned in hell and that she was somewhere he couldn’t protect her.
Just for now, they were together, her much smaller body curled into his.
As ridiculous as it sounded, he could forget his present circumstances. He could forget the endless pain and suffering because holding her was like holding a ray of sunshine.
She gave him hope when nothing else had been able to penetrate the dim world he’d descended into. And so he hung on with all the fierceness he could muster, because now that she’d found him, he wasn’t going to let her go.
CHAPTER 6
“SON of a bitch, this is pissing me off.” Donovan stared down at the email message on his phone and let loose another string of expletives that had his brothers wincing.
“What’s going on, Van?” Ethan demanded.
Donovan looked up to where his brothers were packing gear and loading up their packs for the trek into the Afghani Mountains. There was grim acceptance of their possible fate. Each of them knew there was a good damn chance they wouldn’t come back, but there wasn’t an alternative. Not for them.
“He’s in a cave or so the latest email says. A fucking cave. Like there aren’t a million of those in these mountains?”
Garrett frowned. “But are there that many capable of holding prisoners? There are a few here that have been used as outposts for the Taliban.”
“We’ll question the locals and hope to hell we can buy information,” Sam said. “Our guide should be here soon then we’ll take out.”
Behind him, Rio stood quietly talking to his team while Steele and his team stood to the side, waiting. They were all mostly silent, their faces impassive.
A few moments later, a young man dressed in tattered pants and shirt appeared out of the dark. He wore a Western-style hoodie, but it was thin and holes riddled the sleeves and back.
“You are Sam Kelly?” the boy asked.
Sam took a step forward. “Yeah, that’s me. Are you Aamil?”
The boy nodded solemnly. “We must hurry. It is too open here. I’ll take you into the mountains.”
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Donovan said.
The boy turned, a slight frown on his face.
“What do you know about caves around the Korengal Valley? A big enough cave to house prisoners.”
Aamil swallowed nervously. “I know of a few, but they are heavily guarded. It’s too dangerous.”
“To hell with dangerous,” Garrett said. “P.J. and Cole can take them out with their hands tied behind their backs.”
“Glad you’re so confident in our abilities,” P.J. said dryly. “Do the rest of you plan to do anything or are Cole and I going in alone?”
“Smart-ass,” Cole muttered.
“I want to question the locals,” Sam said to Aamil. “I need to know where those caves are and what kind of activity is around them.”
Aamil hesitated. “It will cost you double what we agreed upon.”
“I don’t give a damn what it costs,” Sam growled. “Just take us there.”
“We should go then. It’s better to travel in the dark.”
“Fall in,” Sam called softly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
As they melted into the night, Donovan adjusted his rifle and stared into the darkness. He hoped to hell they weren’t getting jerked around. It pissed him off that this asshole emailing him obviously knew enough about Nathan’s family and situation to send a fucking SOS email but he couldn’t supply more than Nathan was in some cave in Korengal Valley?