One Four All (2 page)

Chapter Two

“What’d you say the name of this place is?” Red asked for the tenth time.

“I don’t know,” Kepp grumbled. “Land’s End or something idiotic like that. Get your gear stowed.”

“And they need three special ops to babysit?” asked Wat, tossing his bag in the back of the heli-jet. “Who the hell are we babysitting? The Empress of Siquan?”

“No, a politician’s wife. Regnan, the Secretary of Banking and Commerce, a goddamned swamp rat bastard if I ever smelled one,” answered Kepp.

“And you roped us into this?” asked Red. He threw his bag on top of Wat’s and crossed his strong arms. “Why?”

“Because there’s no way in hell I’ll do this on my own for six fucking months. If I go, the two of you go.” Kepp laughed, “Besides, you’d miss me.”

Wat raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t want us seeing any action without you.”

“No fucking shit,” added Red.

Kepp growled at his friends. “Get your asses in there and buckle up. That’s an order, gentlemen. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us.”

* * * *

He was leaving. Praise the Gods, he would be gone for several months. Of course, he hadn’t given her any information. She’d overheard the housekeeping staff talking. They spoke in soft voices, forewarned, afraid to cross him. Lira knew how they pitied her, pitied the fact that she was forced to allow the sweaty pig anywhere near her. If she could, she’d have threaded a needle through his eye and into his vile brain. But General Battarq held her young sister, Meme, hostage to her good behavior. If she uttered a single word of protest, if she tried to escape, Regnan would contact Battarq, and Meme would be beaten.

In public, Regnan referred to her as his wife. The staff knew her as Lisa Regnan. Some of the more perceptive understood that not everything was as it seemed, but they would never utter their suspicions out loud. They weren’t even allowed to speak to her directly. All communication went through her so-called
husband
or his guards. Only her maid had access to her. It was the only concession Regnan had been willing to make, because he thought her maid a harmless, stupid mute. F’yit was neither stupid nor mute. She was Lira’s eyes and ears, and Lira hoped the maid would keep her one step ahead of the bastard Regnan.

Regnan planned to get her with child. Lira shuddered. He claimed a child would end hostilities between their two peoples.
Bullshit
. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew any child conceived without her consent could not rule, he would have acted already. When she’d refused him this last time, Regnan had been so furious he’d ordered his personal guards to strip her and beat her while he looked on. She’d accepted the beating in silence, convinced that any show of weakness on her part would have given him great pleasure. Regnan would like nothing more than to hear her cry out. Over her dead body, she thought. He would have no pleasure from her, and she would never submit to him. She’d seen his puny member once, when he’d thought to seduce her. He ought to be more careful with it, Lira mused. If he tried that again, she’d find some way to cut it off. It was so very small, he’d hardly miss it.

Lira turned around so she could view her back in the mirror. The bruises across her shoulders and ribs and on her buttocks were fresh, a deep purple in color. They stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin. She sighed. They would heal as they had the last time he’d ordered her beaten. He made the guards take care not to cause any permanent injury, just in case. In case he ever returned her to her own people, she supposed.

Her poor father must be frantic with worry. She’d had no news of Zhinshu other than the rumors she and F’yit managed to overhear from the staff. It seemed the Zealots were massing on the borders. Lira knew that her father had surely appeared before the World Court to accuse General Battarq of kidnapping, but of course the bastard would huff and puff and claim he had nothing to do with the disappearance of King Pakan’s two daughters.
Hah
. She knew Battarq for what he was, a demon straight from the bowels of hell. He must have wanted her little sister, just as Regnan had wanted her. There was no other explanation. Whatever General Battarq wanted, he took, yet according to her own captor, the general had sworn by his holy book that if she behaved herself, he would wait to use her sister until she was of age.

If Regnan told the truth, and that was a big if, it seemed Battarq hoped Lira would be agreeable and produce an heir for Zhinshu. Then he could use her child to rule both nations. Well, he could wait until his Central States of Khubak froze over. In the meantime, while Lira searched for a way out, she would try to stave off Regnan.

Lira sighed with relief. Today she could let down her guard. For the first time in months, she would be free of his foul stench. Lira heard a familiar knock on the door. She hurried to pull her tunic about her to hide the bruises.

“Come.”

F’yit entered, head bowed. She closed the door behind her. “My lady.” The maid kept her eyes glued to the floor. Both women muted their voices.

“Is he away?”

“Yes, my lady. He flew off late last night, and he has not returned. I overheard his valet say that he’d packed enough bags for a very long trip.”

“Has anyone mentioned when he is expected back? I overheard one of the housekeepers say he would be gone for months.”

F’yit shook her head.

“Then we must keep our eyes and ears open.” Lira softened her voice, speaking barely above a whisper. “We must use this time to plot our escape.”

The maid moved closer. “Mistress, there are but two ways out, and the gates are guarded every hour of every day. Any guard who falls asleep is immediately dismissed. All vehicles are searched. Every woman must show her face…” F’yit hesitated. “The guards know your appearance well. All the staff is aware of what happened yesterday. It is the talk of the household.”

Lira leaned towards her maid. “Do you think there is anyone here with the courage to help us?”

Again the maid shook her head. “You may have their sympathy, but, no, they will not stand up to him.”

“Then we’ll have to rely upon ourselves. Come. Look.” Lira walked to the window, the shorter woman following like a shadow. “See my way out.”

The maid blanched. For a moment, she said nothing, and Lira saw the fear in the woman’s eyes.

“You cannot think to swim,” F’yit whispered. “My lady, the water is like ice. The far shore of Zhinshu is a good mile off. What of the currents? My lady, please, I beg you, not that way. Death waits in those waters.”

Lira stared down. “No, F’yit, you’re wrong. Death is right here. I am a strong swimmer. I have to make the attempt.”

“I cannot swim,” the maid murmured, and she reached a tentative hand toward her mistress. “You would have to leave me behind.”

Lira took hold of the small, cold hand and squeezed.

“I have seen fishing boats ply the channel. At dawn, when the tide is slack and the currents are quiet, they anchor right there.” She gestured toward a promontory. “I can get you that far, F’yit. I swear it.” The maid held tight to her hand, and Lira knew the woman didn’t believe her. Why should she? Lira lied, and they both knew it. They would most likely die in the water, but there were worse things than death. The touch of Tuth Regnan was one of those things.

“Perhaps you should give him what he wishes,” F’yit mumbled. “Perhaps then he would treat you with kindness.”

Lira shuddered. “Never,” she replied.

One way or another, she would be gone before he returned. If she survived, she would find a way to help her sister. If she died, well, her sister’s fate lay in the hands of the gods.

“Come, mistress.” F’yit’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Let me help you bathe, and I will rub soothing oils into your bruises. This time they will have a chance to heal.”

Chapter Three

“What the hell do you mean we’re not allowed to speak to her? We’ve been pulled off the front line to protect this woman, and we can’t even talk to her?” Kepp was furious. Before he and his men could even get out of the heli-jet, the guards had greeted him with a list of rules they were to adhere to religiously.

“You will not speak with her,” the guard repeated in a stubborn voice. “If you encounter her in the hallway or anywhere in the compound, you will avert your eyes.”

“Now wait one fucking minute,” interrupted Red from over Kepp’s shoulder. “How the hell are we supposed to protect someone if we can’t speak to her…if we can’t even look at her? Captain Kepp, this is idiocy.”

“I agree,” said Kepp. “We need to meet Lisa Regnan. For fuck’s sake, how are we supposed to avoid a woman if we don’t even know who she is? We need to check out the compound and assess the area for any potential threats. In other words,” he looked at the guard’s badge, “Mr. Speth, we need to be allowed to do our job. Sergeant Till, Arms Master Watso, stay where you are.” Kepp crossed his arms and blocked the open hatch.

“With pleasure,” agreed Wat. Both he and his friend, Red, sat back and buckled their safety harnesses.

As Kepp watched, nonplussed, the two guards retired into their bulletproof Plexiglas booth to discuss the situation. Kepp and his men didn’t give a shit. They could wait or they could leave. Leaving would be preferable, and they weren’t willing to wait for long. One of the guards picked up a com unit. Kepp turned around and winked at his friends. “Fifty bucks says we get the hell out of here. Tell the pilot to warm her up.”

The guard slammed down the headset and stomped out of the booth.

“Follow me,” he growled.

“Fuck.” Kepp rolled his eyes. “Grab the gear. We stay.”

The three men followed well behind the guard.

“We trying to keep someone in or out?” Wat asked in a low voice, nodding his head at the high, slick-metal, electrified inner walls.

“I agree with Wat,” commented Red. “Somethin’ ain’t kosher ‘round here. Look at these gardeners cringing. I can smell the fear rolling off them from fifty yards.”

Kepp slowed his stride. “Keep your eyes and ears open and your wits about you. Watch your back, and whatever happens, we keep each other in the loop. Leave these asshole guards out of it. I don’t like this any better than you do. You’re right, something stinks to high heaven.”

The guard pressed a button, and the heavy doors leading to the private quarters opened. Uniformed domestic staff, both men and women, scurried out of sight, heads down.

“What kind of crazy rich bitch are we dealing with?” Red hissed in Kepp’s ear.

The captain muscled his friend behind him and kept walking, wondering exactly the same thing. The men climbed up three stories along a grand, sweeping staircase and followed the guard down a series of corridors. Kepp noted everything they passed so he and his men could find their way out in a hurry if need be.

“Speth,” Kepp called out. “Hold up a second.” The guard stopped but refused to turn around. “Where are the emergency exits?” Kepp continued, “I can’t believe that staircase is the only way in or out of this place.”

Impatient, the man sighed and faced them.

“We entered through the main door and climbed the main staircase. There is another entrance through the kitchen and a set of servants’ stairs. That will be how you enter and exit the premises. After I show you to your suite, I’ll give you a tour of the areas you’ll need to become familiar with. Do not assume for one minute that you’ll be allowed to roam free. You’ll go where I say, and you’ll follow my instructions.”

If Kepp had been a dog, every hair on his body would have stood on edge at that moment. In the thick silence that followed, the two men faced off. Red and Wat reached for their knives.

Kepp’s words, when he finally spoke, were clipped and tinged with menace.

“General Battarq asked us to leave our platoon to do this job. Your
master,
” he spat the word, “came to camp to speak with me himself this morning. Now, either you and your men stay the hell out of our way, or we radio for air transport out of this fucking place. That heli-jet can turn around and be here in ten minutes. Have I made myself clear, Mr. Speth?”