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Authors: Wendy Byrne

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BOOK: Hard to Kill
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Before Sabrina could respond, a man threw open the door.
"I see our guests are awake." With thick, dark hair and beady eyes, he looked to be around thirty-five or so, and spoke English with a German accent.

Sabrina brought her knees closer to her chest to
at least partially hide her nakedness. "You might need to work a bit on your hosting skills, Marco or Francois, or whatever your name is today." She stared back at him and immediately determined what she'd already suspected. He didn't have the swagger of a man who might run this type of operation. And most times the Man-in-Charge didn't like to get his hands dirty. This guy was definitely a middleman. Probably one of many at Trinity Modeling Agency. But if she could stay here long enough to break into his records, she might be able to figure out where they'd taken Caitlyn.

He bit off a cynical laugh.
"A sharp tongue won't serve you well where you're headed." He shook his head and smirked. "But I'm guessing you're one that has to learn that the hard way."

"
And I'm sure, based on your looks, you have a hard time getting dates. But kidnapping, really?" She needed to think. And apparently she needed to think fast. 

"
Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble." Marco stalked close enough that Sabrina thought he might hit her. The deep creases in his forehead told her he was angry, but he had enough restraint to keep from acting on it.

She
'd become accustomed to physical pain over the years. And right now a part of her welcomed it like the comfort of an old friend. Wounds healed over time: broken bones mended, scars faded, muscles became strong again. 

"
It's freezing down here. We need blankets." She wanted to rattle him and figured asserting herself might be one way to do it.  

Liz shivered
and made a moaning sound, making Sabrina all the more aware of her own words and their impact. Fear radiated like a sound wave off Liz's body, bouncing off the walls of this dungeon-like place.  

Another man
hissed as he walked inside the room. Sabrina couldn't determine if it was anger or frustration fueling his movements as he dropped blankets over both of them.

"
If they catch pneumonia, they won't be worth shit," the man recited in perfect German.

His look intensified as he examined her as if searching for any chink in her façade. Goosebumps rode down her arms as she fought through the inspection thrown her way. At least for right now, the bone-chilling cold sweeping through her body had abated a bit.
 

"
Always worried about the bottom line, Evan. I like that. But they'll be long gone before pneumonia sets in." Marco let loose a creepy chuckle.

Sabrina kept her face impassive. They didn
't need to know she understood every word they'd said. Feigning ignorance might help her survive this ordeal.

Evan took a position next to Marco, hands clasped behind his back in military fashion. Unlike Marco, Evan didn
't look German. Even though he spoke the language perfectly, there was something off—the slightest pause that might not be obvious to most people, but it gave her a clue. Definitely not his first language. In Europe that wasn't saying much. Most people spoke several languages. She spoke English, French, German, Italian, a mishmash of Serbian, Croatian, and Bosnian, and knew a little Czech as well.

With her plans for escape, she had to weigh her opponents carefully.
Look into their eyes, Saby. Study their body language. Examine their weaknesses so you may be victorious.

Evan
was tall and muscular; probably at least six inches or more taller than Marco. Definitely bodyguard size, and had that intimidation face down to a T. His eyes told the real story. There was something in the way he stared that differed from the maniacal look in Marco's eyes. She liked to think she'd spotted a hint of compassion there, but that might be pure folly on her part.

As a physical threat, he would be a challenge. Much more so than Marco, based on size alone. But with timing, skill, and a whole lot of luck, she could do it if the opportunity presented itself.

Marco would be the easier mark, although she doubted he would ever put himself in a position of vulnerability. He definitely had a bit of a paranoid vibe emanating around him. Maybe drugs. Maybe pressure from those above him on the food chain. She couldn't tell for sure.

"
Where are we?" If she knew for certain their location, she'd have a thread to hang on to. Right now that was all she craved so she could plan an escape for Liz, and information gathering for her.

Marco sized her up
, as if contemplating whether to give her the information, before he finally spoke. "My home in Austria."

Confirmation of what she
'd assumed. That meant connections to people who could be bought or blackmailed. Even though she'd suspected as much, an organization this big could make her and anyone they wanted to disappear pretty quickly. Which only meant she needed to act fast if she hoped to save Caitlyn.

"
And me without my passport. Guess you'll have to take me back to the States," Sabrina said.

"
Very funny. You're quite a comedian, Grace, aren't you?" He placed his hands on his hips and eyed her.

"
And you're just a flunky, aren't you, Marco?"

He moved in close. So close she could see the flaring of his nostrils and smell the
coffee on his breath. "I'm somebody who could make your life a living hell should I so choose."

"
Into sex trafficking?" She winced, knowing the impact her words would have on Liz. While no doubt the girl knew where this whole thing was headed…
denial is a very powerful tool to the human psyche. Petrovich 101. Don't let yourself get sucked into it.

"
Bing. Bing. Bing. Very clever girl."

"
Not all that clever. Waking up naked and shackled was a big clue."

"
But after all the trouble you gave my men, you should consider yourself lucky to be alive." He chuckled at his own vile personal joke.

This cat-and-mouse game was starting to get wearisome. Her stomach growled, signaling its thoughts
. "Grateful is not quite the word I'd use."

He laughed again, the sound much more menacing
this time. "You should be. You damn near killed me with the knife hidden in your clothing."

"
I would have been successful if I wasn't strung out on the drugs you gave me." A vague recollection of pulling her knife trailed around her brain like a whisper.

He bit out a laugh
. "It's your fault you're here."

"
A little twist on the blaming the victim."

"
You modern American women, always ready to claim victim when in fact we both know that's not true."

"
So we're both clear, I'm nobody's victim.  But to make this whole thing fair, you could un-handcuff me. Believe me, that would separate the men from the boys, so to speak."

He laughed again, the cynical sound reverberating within the confines.
"I'm no fool."

"
That's funny, I was thinking the opposite."

"
I haven't been around this long without having the ability to size people up. Maybe I'm a soft touch…maybe you remind me of somebody. After your display in New York, it's your luck I thought I might find a use for you, besides feeding the fish. Given the proper incentive and motivation, and maybe a few choice drugs, I'm sure you'll be more than willing to cooperate with anything asked of you. Besides, some of my clients enjoy their women with a little spunk."

Sabrina gritted her teeth
and denied the vile implication. "I'm feeling awfully cooperative right about now." Her fingers flexed while she tried to restore blood flow. Even though she was playing into his hands, she couldn't help herself. She needed to tone down the rhetoric and concentrate on being a sheep. But that had never been part of her makeup. And it seemed that even having been half drugged out of her mind, it hadn't been either.

Marco drew in a breath,
"What do you want, Grace?"

"
Right now I gotta pee. I'm losing circulation in my arms and legs, and I'm damn uncomfortable." She tsked, rolling her shoulders.

"
I'll show you I can be reasonable." He flicked his finger in a command gesture. "Evan, escort these ladies to the bathroom."

"
Wait a minute. I'm not being picky, but taking a leak is a solitary kind of moment," Sabrina said. She needed time to plan and another place to search for a weapon, or at least something to get rid of these shackles binding her.

Marco shrugged
. "Don't be confused by my friendly demeanor. I always take the necessary precautions."

Without further word, Evan helped both her and Liz to their feet
and unlocked the chains tethering them. The blankets he'd covered them with earlier slipped to the floor, and he brought them up around their shoulders once again.

"
Where did you put those clothes, Marco? They might as well get dressed while they're in there," Evan said.

Before Marco could respond, the walkie
-talkie clipped to his side sputtered to life. The conversation began with a string of English expletives then reverted to Czech. While it was hard to catch every word, Sabrina picked up the gist of what was said.

Something about getting the women ready, and making sure they behaved. Neither comment
made her happy. Marco didn't seem real happy either. Maybe he didn't trust her, or maybe he didn't like being told what to do.

That Evan guy remained impassive
, staring at some spot on the wall as he awaited further orders. His hands laced behind his back, he presented the epitome of tough and in charge. Once again, she calculated her odds with him as an opponent. He would not be an easy mark.

Marco
's conversation on the walkie-talkie came to an abrupt halt. Another man appeared at the door seconds later. Dressed in dirty fatigues and boots, his hair a greasy mess, he looked downright nasty. A scar cut through his left cheek to the corner of his lip, stopping in a ragged half-circle right under his eye, almost as if someone had attempted to remove it. Based on the leer he graced upon both her and Liz, Sabrina could understand why.

Pig.

Scar Man handed Evan the clothes, but he kept an intimidating eye on Liz. Sabrina felt powerless.

But as the Scar Guy left, Sabrina found something to
admire. Strapped on the guy's back, like a big old present on Christmas morning, was an AK-47. If anybody could figure out how to relieve him of that, it was her.

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Sabrina attempted to shake off a bit of the lingering lethargy from the drugs they'd given her as she splashed cold water onto her face. The hint of coolness gave her the kick-start she needed.

With her head bowed over the sink, she glanced around in search of something she might use as a weapon. Resourceful was her middle name, but aside from a whole lot of dust bunnies along the floor, there was nothing even semi-lethal residing in this room. Given a few moments alone and with the door locked and closed, she might be able to twist something off the sink to fashion a makeshift weapon, but not with Evan standing vigil outside the partially open door. She hated to give up so easily, but she had no other choice for the time being. 

Evan knocked then came inside to hand them some clothes. Both she and Liz were given identical outfits, including long-sleeve pleasant-style white blouses, red skirts, and ballet flats with a black fabric sash to encircle their waists.

"
Where are we going?" she whispered to Evan as she began to dress. Would he respond? Did he even understand English?

Even the thin fabric brought warmth to her chilled skin. The shoes kept the damp cold cement floor from shooting straight up her legs and through her body. For the first time in what felt like years, a trickle of warmth stopped the internal trembling.

"Into town. Somebody wants to see you." His English was spot on without even a trace of an accent. He was either educated in the States or he was born there, which brought about the question of why he would get involved in this kind of stuff. Then again, for the right price, some people would pretty much do anything.

Even though he answered her question, h
e gave nothing away by his expression. Normally, she could spot a flinch, a chink in the armor a mile away, but this guy showed nada.

"
How long until we get to this dog and pony show?" If she had an idea of where they were in Austria, she could start calculating their escape. Then again, she had to assume Marco was being truthful when he divulged the location and wasn't trying to throw her off track.

"
A little over an hour." Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he seemed distracted, refusing to make eye contact with her. Not a good sign. While there were tons of reasons why, she couldn't help but be a little curious what kept his mind so occupied.

Deciding to
push the envelope, she moved close to his ear and whispered, "I can get you money. Lots of it, if you help us escape." The smell of soap and spicy aftershave drifted beneath her nose as she pondered which way he'd land.

Based on the neutral look in his eyes, and the firm set to his jaw, she couldn
't guess. But it didn't matter, as he didn't get a chance to respond when Marco's voice filtered through the door, reminding them all of his close proximity.

"
We need to get going if we hope to get there before sun-up."

While Evan
left her hanging as to his decision, it didn't matter. She could accomplish this on her own. All she needed was a tiny break in the wall of impenetrability and she'd jump on that in a hot minute.

As if reading her thoughts, the gaze Evan leveled at her spoke of distrust while he secured plastic cuffs on both her and Liz. No doubt
he was gauging her strength, trying to see how much damage she could do if given the opportunity. Having done the same type of calculating appraisal herself on numerous occasions, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

He said nothing, but instead
opened the door and led them to the outer room. Marco seemed a little anxious as he waved his hand in the air to move them along.

"
Where are we going?" Sabrina had spent the first twenty-two years of her life in Europe before escaping to New York, and knew it like the back of her hand. Marco had given her an advantage he hadn't counted on. She knew when and where to hide and, more importantly, how to survive.

A disgusting kind of
smile inched up the corners of his lips. "We're heading into town to meet some friends."

"
I have plenty of those already. But the three of you fellas go on and have a really good time. Liz and I will find something to amuse ourselves."

"
Ah, Grace, I'll miss your witty banter. But our time together has come to a close," Marco said.

As if to reinforce the point, S
car Man grabbed the bicep of her right arm, squeezing in a bone-crushing grip. She tried to angle away, but with the cuffs she didn't have a lot of leverage and he left little room to maneuver. 

Evan eyed the contact, but didn
't say a word. Marco still had that damn smile on his face.

"
You have certain attributes that carry quite a price to some people," Marco said.

"
Really, that's interesting. Most people I know can't wait to get rid of me." Sabrina bit back the expletives at the tip of her tongue and ignored the pain tunneling through her arm due to Scar Man's brutal grip.

"
In a very short period of time, I guarantee you will be more cooperative than you ever imagined."

Dread skipped along her spine as the impact of his words hit home. How quickly she had gone from a kickass, nothing-could-stop-her woman to a fearful, vulnerable one with a few targeted threats. With the drugs, the cold, and the nakedness, their indoctrination techniques rivaled most. The slide into capitulation inched closer as the pressure on her arm reached
"unbearable."

Every word she uttered came with a swagger of confidence to counterbalance the pain both inside and out.  Maybe there was something in the drug that brought her to a state somewhere between catatonic and submissive. She fought against it with every ounce of resistance she had.

Scar Man pushed her up a narrow set of stairs leading to an open kitchen space. A traditional home in Austria, the house had wooden beams in the kitchen, stone floors, and an enormous fireplace. There was a door leading to the outside on the left-hand side.

Maybe it was being out of the cavern they
'd been housed in, but Sabrina felt a resurgence of her old self—the one that had taken a leave of absence from her psyche not ten seconds ago. She'd do her best to cause trouble, like she'd done from the earliest of ages. "You haven't drugged us, so what's going to ensure my cooperation? If we don't behave you'll sell us to the highest bidder?" She narrowed her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's right, you've already done that."

"
But I have a secret weapon." As Marco spoke, he brought a gun to Liz's head and cocked the hammer. "I know exactly how to control you."

Liz
's eyes went wide in fear. While her body began to shake, her lips moved in silent prayer.

S
abrina should have figured he'd use leverage to keep her subdued. No doubt she'd tipped her hand she wasn't in fear for her life, but someone more vulnerable was a different story. That wouldn't stop her from coming up with a plan to outwit, outmaneuver, outman them despite the odds against her. She'd never failed a mission before and didn't plan on failing this one.

Ingrained instincts had her surveying the room to identify areas of vulnerability, strength, and potential weapons within reach. The set of knifes held in a wooden block next to the stove made her heart go pitter-patter. While she tried to keep her gaze from straying too long, her brain ticked off her moves.

Trepidation lit up her spine, enticing her gaze to the counter once again. Six knives, three men—could she do it? Speed and accuracy were key, and she had both. But timing wise it would be tricky.

Negotiating around the counter toward the stove would take five seconds. With her hands together in cuffs, and Scar Man corralling her bicep, could she grasp and possibly injure one of the men? And, more importantly, could that happen before they got to Liz?

Evan stared at her as if reading her thoughts. He shook his head almost imperceptibly then glanced at Marco, his point made without using words. Then again, maybe he was considering her earlier offer? 

"
I'll get you some bread before we leave," Evan offered, earning a frown from Marco. 

"
Why are you giving them food?" Marco screeched in German.

"
Because they haven't eaten in days and you don't want them passing out before we even get into the city. I might be a numbers guy, but you brought me here for a reason. I plan to make your operation more efficient and less costly. Let me do my job."

Evan
's expression remained indecipherable. He had a good poker face; not a speck of emotion gave anything away. Was it a hint of concern that reflected in his eyes when he handed her the bread? She couldn't tell if it was genuine concern, an agenda, or if he intended to go along with her earlier offer and getting them food was a sign of good faith.

"
Some water would be great as well," Sabrina said.

Marco glanced at Evan and shook his head.
"What did I tell you? Give them an inch and they ask for a mile."

Evan shrugged but returned a few moments later with bread and bottled water. He handed the offering to both of them with no eye contact whatsoever. Mercifully, Scar Man let up on his death grip enough for her to gobble down the nourishment.

"You wouldn't want your meal ticket to pass out in the middle of negotiations. No doubt that would lower the price considerably," Sabrina said between mouthfuls.

Marco
nodded his agreement with a smarmy smile. For once Sabrina didn't want to be agreed with.

"
You have a point. While G can be a little…ahem…shall we say, creative in the methods he uses to ensure complacency, he does expect his merchandise to be in good working order at the time of purchase."

"
Oh, Marco, you make a girl feel so important—like one of those blue-light specials at Kmart," Sabrina replied, mimicking a Southern accent.

She glanced at Evan. Imagination or not, he had a strange look on his face. While his lips were drawn tight into a thin line, he worked his jaw back and forth a few times as if trying to figure something out.
Was he going to rat her out? Or had her big mouth made him suspicious?

She half expected him to blurt out the tale of her bribe. But he didn
't. It was too soon to conclude that meant victory.

After finishing off the last of the bread, she felt strong
er. Much more herself and able to do what she needed to do. Once she chased it down with a bottle of water, she felt like she could tackle the world.

"
I don't want a word from you, Grace. Not one single word." Marco motioned toward Liz. "Or you know what will happen to your friend. You certainly don't want her to pay the price for your big mouth."

He
held the gun to Liz's head, and Sabrina closed her eyes and bit her tongue. She knew it was a test. For now, she'd be willing to play along.

Marco smiled,
looking pleased by her complacency. He nodded in that I-knew-that-would-work kind of way and handed the gun to Evan, who placed it in a holster under his jacket.

"
It's time to leave," Marco said.

"
Home?" Liz squeaked out the word like a two-year-old would after a long day away. Emotionally frayed and physically exhausted, Liz appeared to be near the breaking point. While her hands shook, her voice trembled. And she looked to be about ten seconds away from bursting into bone-racking sobs.

Sabrina willed the poor girl a hint of composure by grasping her hands, trying to convey a measure of control with her touch. Liz
's eyes remained downcast as she twisted at Sabrina's fingers. 

"
But I thought you hated your life. You wanted adventure and to see the world. Now you're crying to go home." The mocking tone in Marco's voice rippled in the air. Sabrina didn't have to be psychic to recognize his words hit their intended target, effectively cutting off any further pleading by Liz.

A vivid fantasy of grabbing Marco by the throat and bouncing his head of the cool concrete floor kept Sabrina from acting irrationally. Besides, this was a waiting game. Her time would come sooner or later.
And it was all about timing.

 

*  *  *

 

A Mercedes sedan awaited them at the bottom of a series of cobblestone steps. Ironically, the exterior of Marco's house resembled a home from a fairy tale, with its cottagey appearance surrounded by a forest of trees. She could envision Little Red Riding Hood paying a visit any minute now.

A
s picturesque as the setting might be, any hope for an immediate escape was dismissed when she recognized they were in the middle of nowhere with mountains on all sides. Definitely not an easy way out that she could see so far. Running through the forest hampered by mountains was not a recipe for success.

Given
the presence of the moon, and the miniscule amount of light, Sabrina guessed the time was close to three, maybe four in the morning. Once the terrain became more visible she might have a few more clues as to their location.

BOOK: Hard to Kill
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