Naughty Temptations

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

JAGGER

Standing in the hold, I watched as the lock was removed from a cargo container. Our contact spoke in Arabic, which I translated automatically, forcing my mind to remain on task and my features calm, not reflecting the rage and horror I felt.

“I can also offer women. Fresh, young women.”

Fanfuckingtastic!

Not only was this scumbag trafficking weapons stolen during an attack on a covert CIA base in Somalia, he also trafficked humans. Understanding how this knowledge would affect Rix and Dylan, I didn’t glance their way. Our first priority had to be securing the cache of weapons before they made it into the global black market. Anything else would be dealt with after we’d succeeded.

But my brothers’ reactions took waiting off the table. Dylan tensed and Rix lunged for our contact. Grabbing a fist full of Fayez’s shirt and getting right in his face, he growled, “Where are the women?”

Weapons were raised and several of the men rushed forward but Dylan and I got to Rix first, pulling him back. I held up a hand and laughed. Speaking in Arabic, I said, “He’s desperate to get a woman under him.”

This resulted in the laughter I’d hoped for.

I grabbed Rix’s shoulders, pulled him in close and slapped his cheek. “Al'aemal 'awlaan, thumm laeibna. Business first, then we play.”

I didn’t let go until he nodded and said, “Then let’s see the goods and close the deal.”

The men all chuckled, weapons were lowered and they resumed unlocking the container. When the doors were pulled open, flashlights turned on, revealing dozens of crates. Each had been opened, allowing us to see what they contained. We strolled through rows of M4 Carbines, MK19 grenade machineguns, M16 rifles, Beretta M9 pistols, and even a few XM2010 sniper rifles, along with ammo for each one. Everything that had been taken. It looked like it was all there. We’d managed to find the weapons before anything had been sold off.

Fayez held out his arms and turned in a circle. “Hal ladayna aittifag?”

I translated, “Do we have a deal?”

Dylan spoke for the first time. “Yes we do.” He clapped his hands together, going off script and taking things in a different direction. “Now let’s see the women.”

That wasn’t part of the plan. Our orders were to find and secure the weapons then signal the team to come in and round up the bad guys. Fayez spoke some English and I could see from his lecherous smirk that he understood enough of what Dylan said.

Rix jumped in with, “Yes, let’s see the women.”

Fuck me, we were officially going off the reservation. I could easily image the stream of virulent curses coming out of the chief’s mouth. This wasn’t going to end well. And it wouldn’t just be the end of working with this team of ex-military operatives, we’d face charges. But my brothers would not walk away from women being trafficked. Neither could I, so there wasn’t anything to do but roll with it.

Fayez stepped between Dylan and Rix, clapping both men on the back and spoke in choppy, butchered English. “Come, my friends. We drink and celebrate and fuck.”

Turning to one of his men, he issued orders for the women to be prepared and brought to the ship’s lounge.

HENDRIX

Not revealing any anxious ticks became a challenge as I watched Fayez pour clear liquor into four small glasses. As he added water the liquid changed from transparent to a white, milky color. I’ve had Arak before and while I don’t care for the strong anise flavor that left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, I’d take a sip or two while waiting.

What I wouldn’t give for a few fingers of bourbon.

When we each had a glass, Fayez said, “Fi sihtik,” and tapped his glass to each of ours. Dylan, Jag and I each chimed in with, “Cheers,” and drank.

While Fayez rambled on in Arabic, Jag didn’t bother translating most of his outlandish stories. I barely listened, my entire being focused on the door until it finally opened and five girls were lead inside. They were all nude, hands chained in front of them with black shrouds covering their heads. Each was instructed to step up onto a wooden box then their arms were lifted and the chains secured to hooks in the ceiling.

My pulse pounded so hard I heard it whooshing in my ears as my heart slammed into my ribs. A potent mixture of rage, disgust and horror roiled in my gut and rose up my throat. I swallowed convulsively to keep it down.

Dylan, Jagger and I had come too close to losing someone we love to human trafficking. There was no way we’d be leaving the freighter without all five girls. Not while we still had breath left in our lungs. We’d die making sure they never became enslaved.

“Please,” Fayez said and swept an arm out toward the girls. “Taftish albadayie.”

When Jag translated, “Inspect the merchandise,” I had to grit my teeth to hold back a growled curse.

Two of the girls were definitely children, maybe eleven or twelve, barely starting to develop. I pegged the next two as teenagers. But the fifth, she was older with the mature body of a young woman. As we moved around them, I focused on anything but their nudity until I stepped behind the fifth girl and my entire body stilled. I couldn’t breathe and didn’t move for several long seconds while I struggled to accept what I was seeing.

My breath caught in my throat and escaped on a hiss from between tightly clenched teeth. In a matter of seconds plans raced through my head and were rejected until I decided there was only one course of action. Get her down, cover her up, then kill every motherfucker on the freighter.

Sensing my distress, Jag and Dylan went on high alert while appearing as if nothing were wrong. They made their way to my side, searching for what I’d seen. The moment the heart-shaped birth mark on her left shoulder registered on my brothers the three of us were in motion.

Dylan’s pistol was in Fayez’s grinning face where he stood in front of the girls. Jag had turned to the three men near the door, weapon aimed between the middle man’s eyes. I unhooked the chain and had her in my T-shirt before pulling the shroud from her head. The terror and confusion in the puffy eyes that blinked up at me from a tear-stained face had me seeing red.

Before I’d consciously made the decision to move, my knife was sliding under Fayez’s ribs just to the right of center, thrust inward and upward, slicing his aorta as smoothly as if it were butter.

Gunfire erupted and Dylan finally spoke the code phrase to bring in the assault team. “Let’s wrap this up.”

It was unnecessary. My earpiece had crackled to life with shouts of “Shots fired,” and “move in” as I wrapped myself around the trembling female, becoming a human shield.

DYLAN

Jagger was unchaining the other girls and had already covered one with his shirt. I handed over mine and removed two from the dead traffickers for the remaining girls. There was no way I could let the identity of the woman in Rix’s arms sink in or I’d be useless. All five girls needed me on top of my game.

They were all crying and babbling incoherently until the youngest caught sight of Rix’s slice-and-dice job on Fayez and let loose a blood curdling scream. Another girl grabbed my knife from its sheath at my hip and dropped down onto the man. Straddling his pelvis, she lifted the knife in a two-fisted grip and repeatedly plunged it into his torso.

Struggling to pull her off the dead man, I glanced to Rix for help. He stood motionless, body curved in around the woman, wrapping her up tighter than a python. He had to be in shock. Christ, I’m sure all three of us were. We simply did what needed to be done for the girls on autopilot until the assault team cleared the ship.

A half dozen operatives filed into the room intending to take custody of the rescued girls. As if that was going to happen. Neither the girls nor the three of us were willing to make a handoff. Being the ranking man in the room, I ordered the rest to stand down. Jagger escorted the two girls clinging to him, I took the other two and we personally delivered them to the medics. Then the three of us took the fifth girl into a bunkroom and held her shaking body between ours.

Nightmarish memories from the past played through my head. We’d still been in the Raiders and had just finished a mission in Sochi, Russia. Our father was in the country for business, and as usual he’d brought our stepmother and stepsister along. Jag, Rix and I arrived at the hotel while our parents were at a business dinner in the restaurant. We went to the family’s suite only to find the door open and our stepsister gone.

We reacted fast, clearing the floor in record time, arriving at the service elevator as the doors were closing on a nervous pair of uniformed men with a covered laundry bin between them. We’d barely made it down to the service bay to stop the men from loading our stepsister into a laundry truck. I still shudder inside with the knowledge of what would have happened to her had we not made it in time.

Now, eleven years later, to find Addie in the hands of human traffickers again, already on a freighter ready to depart for who knows where— I forcefully shut down those thoughts, unable to take them any further. But I had to know.

Gently grasping her shoulders, I turned her to face me. Christ, I could barely get the words out. “Addie…baby. Did they? Were you?” f**k, I just couldn’t make myself say it.

With the shake of her head I took my first real breath since realizing who was in those chains and up for sale.

Rix dropped to the floor, landing hard on his ass as if someone cut the last string holding him upright. I watched Addie crawl into his lap and cup his face in her hands.

“I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t raped.” The last was barely a whisper.

Jag and I joined them on the floor. I knew what was coming before Jag growled the first word. Reassured that she was okay, his temper flared to life.

“What the f**k, Addie? You know how to stay safe. We made sure of that. Where the f**k were you? And where’s your soon-to-be-dead security team.”

Placing a slender hand on his chest, Addie looked up at him with those big moss green eyes that never failed to melt all three of us.

“It’s okay, Jagger. You got to me in time.”

“We need answers, baby girl. Now!” I demanded.

Her gaze turned to me and she stroked a hand down my arm, easing some of my tension. After a heavy sigh, she lead with, “You’re not allowed to get mad at me.”

In the next instant the three of us were tensed and ready for a battle knowing instinctively whatever she was about to say would not be good.

“I don’t sell software. I work for the CIA as part of an anti-human trafficking unit.”

She met all three of our gazes but we didn’t say a word. Nothing out of our mouths at that point would have been pretty or nice. The toned down story she told us of being used as bait for the most nefarious scum of the earth sealed our fates. That was it, she was done with the CIA and we were done giving her time.

Addie was ours, always had been, and she was about to find out exactly what that meant.