Free Out of the Shadows (Falcon) by Geri Foster

Closing his eyes, he knew better than to search for solace there.

     
     
    C HAPTER EIGHT
     
    Kate woke with a start. The surroundings left her disoriented and confused. Where had they taken her? Panic washed over her like a tsunami with wave after wave of pain.
    She moved her arms and legs slowly, gasping as sizzling swells of anguish smashed into her body. She’d been slammed around to the point her arms and shoulders screamed in agony. She dreaded to think what her face looked like.
    Surveying her locality, Kate quickly learned they’d locked her in what Oscar commonly referred to as his dungeon. Basement would be a better word. It was simply two dugout cells and iron bars which served as doors.
    She caught a whiff of a latrine bucket and wrinkled her nose as the odors of sweat and blood churned her stomach.
    Pushing int o a seated position, she rested against the back wall of her cell and struggled to breathe. Touching her ribs, she gasped. If a few weren’t broken, they were pretty banged up. Her lips were cracked. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth.
    An ache deep as a valley consumed her body. Battered and weak, she wondered if she could stand.
    By the ruddy light coming in from the tall narrow window far beyond her reach, Kate checked herself only to find bruising, small cuts, and scrapes. Dirt covered her from head to toe. Speaking of which, someone had put a pair of black, man size flip-flops on her feet.
    The b lood didn’t come from any particular place, so Kate surmised Oscar hadn’t sliced her up with a knife. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t in the near future.
    She leaned her head against the hard wall and wondered how she’d ev er get out alive. Oscar certainly intended to kill her. No doubt he’d take his time with the task. None of this bode well for her. Somehow she had to escape.
    “You okay over there?” a male voice called out.
    In the dark shadow of her cell, Kate couldn’t see beyond the bars. “Who’s there?”
    “Aaron James Roddi o.”
    “A.J.?”
    A startled silence drifted through the stale air. “You know me?”
    Kate scooted closer. “I don’t kno w you, but I’ve met your friend Brody.”
    “Brody?” A.J. asked. “Here?”
    “He was. I think he might be dead now.”
    A.J. came into view when he lunged for the bars and clutched them in a deadly grasp. “Brody, dead?”
    Kate shook her head at the irony. Brody kidnapped her to find A.J., and here she was the one looking at him. Now they were both being held hostage by a man who liked to kill just because he could. “Last I saw, he was sprawled on the floor in a neighboring village.”
    “What happened?”
    Only eight feet of packed dirt separated them, but it may as well have been a mile. While she had no idea how she looked, A.J.’s condition alarmed her and for good reason. The dirt and grime, along with the bruises, told her his visit to La Hacienda hadn’t been pleasant.
    Dark circles beneath his eyes and a broken nose spoke of Oscar’s brutality. No wonder Brody wanted him free.
    “My name is Kate Stone. I’m a CIA agent. Brody kidnapped me and brought me here to trade for you. I don’t think he intended it to work out this way. I guess we’re all losers in this game.”
    “I would say all that surprised me, but we are talking about Brody Hawke. He can come up with the damndest ideas.” A.J. rubbed the back of his neck. “Surprisingly, he usually comes out the winner.”
    “Yeah, well this time his idea didn’t work.”
    A.J. pressed his lips together tightly then said, “I can’t imagine him putting your life in danger. That’s not like him.”
    “Let’s just say things didn’t happen the way he hoped they would.”
    Kate rested her forehead against the iron bar s and enjoyed the coolness the basement offered. Not as comfortable as the air conditioning upstairs, but bearable. At least she wasn’t sweating like a weight-lifter.
    “What happened?”
    “Like I said, Brody kidnapped me.