Outlaw

Dave reached the edge of the level clearing and plunged into the vegetation on the other side, beginning his ascent with smooth and deliberate movements. His pace was quicker than it had been climbing from the beach to the first villa, but the timer in his head seemed louder and more urgent, propelling him upward with fervor. The rest of the team followed as before and paused when he reached the second clearing fronting the higher two villas. After a few seconds of respite, he swept around the corner to the front door and waited for the others to stack up behind him.

Again, Todd squeezed his shoulder, and he reached up to test the knob.

He shook his head and motioned for Graham to breach.

“We’ve gotta go loud,” Dave whispered.

This is gonna get messy.

The reinforced door, hinges, and deadbolt were too strong for their preferred method of entry, but they didn’t have much choice. If they wanted to rescue her and get her to safety, they needed to clear each villa as quickly as possible.

Graham moved forward, raised the shotgun to the hinges, and quickly fired two shots into each. The deafening blasts shattered the night’s stillness, and Dave sensed that the night had changed. The insects and animals that had provided the soundtrack for their movement fell silent, and the wind and waves seemed like little more than a hint of a whisper.

Graham kicked the door off its hinges, and Dave threw caution to the wind and blew into the room, aiming his rifle left toward the sliding glass door.

Before he had taken two steps, he saw a figure reaching for an AK-47 rifle propped against the far wall. He shifted his aim, squeezed the trigger, and sent two suppressed rounds into the man’s back before his third step.

Todd entered a split second later and turned right, gliding across the wood floors to the wet bar in the far corner. Ron raced for the stairs and ascended two steps at a time with Graham hot on his heels.

The element of surprise was gone — speed and violence of action were all that mattered now.

30

Lisa jerked her head upright at two loud blasts and the sound of the door downstairs being kicked off its hinges. It was immediately followed by a flash of light and what sounded like a suppressed gunshot, but through the ringing in her ruptured eardrum, she couldn’t be sure. Nothing seemed real anymore.

Through the bathroom’s open door, she watched the shadowed figure of her guard rising from the bed. But before he could finish sitting upright, a spitting sound followed another flash of light and sent him reeling back onto the mattress. She whimpered and closed her eyes like a child, blocking out the evil that had descended into her own personal hell.

Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs as a menacing presence filled the bathroom and hovered over her. She tensed and prepared for another cruel swing of the hammer or steel pipe and inhaled sharply, wincing at the stabs of pain radiating from her broken ribs.

“Clear right,” a voice said from across the room.

“Clear left,” another replied.

English?

Her mind was playing tricks on her. That’s all it was. Mandarin filled her head, and the unfamiliar voices confused and disoriented her. But she had been so certain. She opened an eye and saw a large man crouching over her and reaching out with a hesitant hand for the chains binding her wrists.

She flinched and kicked her battered feet against the tub, trying in vain to move away from him while pleading in Mandarin.

“Whoa,” he breathed and pulled his hand back to give her some distance. “Easy now. We’re here to bring you home.”

Lisa thrashed in the cold water, but the word resonated with her.

Home?

At last, she relaxed and hung limp from the chains restraining her to the faucet, but her one open eye bore into the man who maintained eye contact while continuing to reassure her that she was going to be safe — that she was going home.

A second man entered the room, and her eye flashed to the new shadowy figure.

“Easy now,” the first man said again. “Can you tell me your name?”

Lisa, she thought.

But her mouth opened, and a string of Mandarin phrases spilled out.

“You’re safe now,” he replied. “I need to know your name so we can take you home.”

Home.

She worked her tongue across the inside of her mouth and tried to form the word she knew he needed to hear. But her mind was terrified of hope. Hope was the one thing that would totally break her and send her into an endless abyss of torment and agony.

Lisa, she thought again.

“Li… Li…,” she stammered, trying to speak the name that brought with it parole.

But he was patient, and he spoke softly to encourage her. “It’s okay. Just tell me your name.”

“Lisa,” she finally said. “Mourning.” As the name escaped her lips, an invisible wall in her mind crashed down around her, and the truth of her situation became real.

“We’re here to bring you home, Lisa,” he said.

* * *