Free Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125 by Lisa Pietsch Page A

.  No problem.”  He nodded his massive head toward the door.  “Let's go, mate."
    Vince grabbed Nikolai's cigarettes on his way out of the room.  "You don't mind, do you, Nikolai?"
    "Of course not.   Sleep well."
     
    ~~~
     
    Vince stumbled into the room with the help of a push from Ian.  Golden stucco walls were offset by the red velvet curtains, bedding, and Oriental rug. 
    Blood red everywhere I look.  That doesn’t bode well.
    The queen-sized brass bed looked inviting and more than comfortable.  Any other time he’d be wishing Sarah was here to share it with him.  Today he was glad she wasn’t.  Seeing the bed made Vince suddenly realize how tired he was.  After being drugged for several days and sleeping on a small cot, he could almost feel the bed ’s gravitational pull .  
    A window.
    A flash of hope crossed his mind when he saw the window on the other side of the bed. 
    Ian didn’t move from the doorway.  "The bathroom is off to the left there, mate.  Don't get any ideas.  We stripped it of mirrors so don't go looking for any weapons.”
    Exposed plumbing could work.
    “ That window has an alarm and bars so don't even think about opening it.  Sweet dreams."  The Australian slammed the door as he left and the sound of a deadbolt on the other side ended any thoughts Vince had of busting out. 
    So much for that.   Might as well take advantage of the bathroom and wash these clothes.  Nikolai isn't going to like my answer in the morning.  I'll probably go back in the cell tomorrow, or worse.  At least I can buy a little time for Will to figure this out.
     
    Chapter Eighteen
     
    Sarah was the first to walk into the house as Will and Brian were busy tucking the helicopter back into the hangar.  She kicked off her Manolo Blahniks and breathed a sigh as her toes dug into the plush living room carpet.
    Jason was sitting on the couch, watching Sky News and drinking a cup of coffee. 
    "Hey, Jase."
    He looked up at Sarah while setting the television on mute.  "So it went well?"
    Guinea called from the kitchen.  "Welcome back.  You want some coffee, Sarah?"
    "Looks like she could use some tea and I'm not talking Darjeeling ."
    Guinea 's voice sounded muffled as though he had his head in a cupboard.  "I think I have bottle of Cuervo back here somewhere."
    Sarah began pacing barefoot in front of the large, marble fireplace, still wearing the long black gown she'd worn to the embassy party.  She walked, absent mindedly smoking, and wondering how long it would be before she could pick up a gun and blow Nikolai's head off.
    Okay, so it's a little extreme but just when I get the great guy, the house, and the money, some frigging Russian makes off with my man?  What the fuck kind of cosmic joke is that?
    A voice thundered through the front door.  "Chris!"
    Jason looked up wide-eyed. 
    Sarah jumped at the commanding tone of Will's voice.  The man never spoke loudly and certainly never yelled. It surprised her that he did now.
    Will spoke to nobody in particular.   "All right, listen, if Nikolai is as connected as I think he is, we're gonna have a hell of a fight on our hands.  We aren't going to be able to do this alone.  Guinea , is Brock still running that P.M.C.?"
    Sarah mouthed the letters to Jason in the hope he could translate for her.  " P.M.C?"   She'd never heard the acronym before.
    Jason flicked an inch-long ash into a nearby ashtray.  "Private military company, commonly referred to by the uninitiated as mercenaries."
    Sarah opened her eyes wide.  She knew they existed but had never met one.  She had no idea you could just call them up.
    Maybe I went into the wrong business.
    Guinea walked out from behind the kitchen island with a bottle of tequila, a shot glass, and a cigarette hanging from his lips.  "Old Thunderbunny?"   Guinea laughed without dropping the cigarette.  "He sure is.”
    Will tipped his head to one side thoughtfully.  “Is he big enough to handle