Entangled Pt. 07

What was I supposed to do? He asked himself as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Not fall for your brother's girl would have been a good place to start.

"Easier said than done," he muttered.

***

Eric was waiting for Blake when the plane landed. As soon as the cabin door opened Eric unfolded himself from the black rental car to await his brother's descent. Blake looked up at the dark clouds on the horizon before making his way down the stairs. The tense look on Eric's face mirrored the frustration Blake felt twist through his guts. It was obvious that the weather was about to throw a wrench into whatever plan they'd come up with.

Blake hefted his carry-on and suitcase as he walked across the tarmac to the car. After he tossed them in the trunk he got into the passenger seat. He flinched as the driver's side door slammed shut.

"How is she?" Eric asked as he fired up the engine.

"Over all I think she's doing okay but—"

"We need to get her out of there," Eric said in a growl.

"How long is the storm expected to last?"

"A few days at least." Eric sighed heavily. "The hotel is clearing out—"

"You're sure you don't want to come back after it's over?"

"I'm not going anywhere until she's safe."

Blake expected that to be his answer but he smiled when he heard it. Clearly Eric's feelings for Jess hadn't changed, at least not yet but they were still in the thick of things. And since Eric hadn't greeted him with a fist to the head it didn't appear that he was aware of what had happened between himself and Jess. Blake shifted in his seat as they left the airstrip.

After a short drive they pulled up in front of a small boutique hotel. Staff were busy preparing the building for the coming storm. Several people were moving from window to window rolling storm shutters into place.

Eric waited on the sidewalk while Blake pulled his bags from the trunk. "I have your key." He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and withdrew a silver key attached to a numbered tag with a loop of chain.

"Old school," Blake said as he held out his hand.

"Can't be too picky around here," Eric said. "With some luck we won't be here long anyway."

"It's fine." Blake followed his brother through the surprisingly spacious lobby to a staircase. "I'm guessing everyone else is already here?"

"Malcolm and Jackson got here the day after you found her. Ryan and I got here yesterday."

"How did Row take his coming out of retirement?" Blake asked with a smile.

"She'd prefer to have him safe at home but she understands that it'll go smoother with him there." Eric turned down a hallway. "Jess knows him." Eric stopped at the second door. "This is you." He nodded at the third door. "I'm next door. Ryan's there." He pointed at the door across from Blake's. "Malcolm and Jackson are in one of the suites upstairs."

"I'll just toss these inside." Blake shrugged the shoulder where the strap of his bag was hanging. "Malcolm said he'd give me a run down once I got here." He unlocked the door and took a couple steps inside. The room was a third of the size of the room he'd had at Francois' resort and no where near the luxury that he was used to but the beige carpet looked clean. The dark wood dresser and night stand were polished to a high sheen. The blue floral bedspread was outdated but cheerful and fitting in the tropical setting. Blake dropped his bags on the end of the bed then turned to go back to the hallway.

Eric straightened from the wall he was leaning against then led the way back to the stairs and the brother's made their way up to the top floor of the four story hotel. Ryan answered Eric's knock and waved them inside.

"Just the person we need to see," Jackson said as soon as he saw Eric. He stood up from the cluttered dining table and the room seemed to shrink around him. Jackson Fisher was a big man. With his heavily muscled frame he was what a person would imagine an ideal soldier should look like. When Blake had first met him he'd initially been intimidated but Jackson's ready smile had put him at ease within a few minutes of being in a room with him. His features leaned toward the "everyman" type. There was nothing especially memorable about his face which was a definite asset in his line of work.

"For what?" Eric asked.

"We need a boat and you have the high limit credit card," Malcolm answered as he grabbed a jacket from the back of a chair. Malcolm Davis was the oldest person in the room, though it was impossible to tell by how much as any grey hair he had blended right into his short cropped blond locks. Aside from Eric he was also the most reserved personality in the room. With his decidedly square jaw he was considered, by most, to be conventionally handsome but his features were marred by a jagged scar that ran from just above his left ear to his upper lip.

"You just want me for my signature," Eric said with a theatrical sigh. Jackson laughed.

"While you guys are shopping I'll walk the kid through what we've come up with," Ryan said then picked up a carafe sitting on the table and poured a cup of coffee for Blake.

"Get some food while you're out," Blake called as the trio moved to the door. Jackson gave Blake a wink before he closed it.

Ryan set the cup next to a laptop sitting on the table. "Have you told him?" he asked as he pulled the screen up.

Blake sat down with a heavy sigh. "Not yet. I wasn't sure if he'd seen anything and if not—" He shrugged. "I want to let her decide whether we do."

"You can't keep something like that from him. And why would you leave it up to her?"

Blake ran a hand through his hair then slid off the chair to stand. His hands gripped the back of the chair for a second. "After what dad did how can I take that choice from her?"

Ryan sat back as Blake spun away and stalked to the balcony doors. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Blake muttered.

"Blake—"

"Do you have any idea what it's been like? Having to face her knowing what was going on here—lying to her—" He pinched the bridge of his nose and tipped his head back. His voice dropped to a pained murmur. "Walking away from her." He turned back to face Ryan. "I left her there knowing what's going to happen." He jammed his hands into his pockets. "The only way I could keep her safe, just for a few nights, was to request her before Davenport could. And yes, I had sex with her. I know it was wrong, judge me all you want, but you didn't see how scared she is. You didn't have to look in her eyes and say goodbye while knowing that fucker is just waiting for the next chance to abuse her." He walked back to the table, picked up the coffee cup, took a drink, and set it down. "I feel like scum and I'd do it again if it meant helping her."

"It's going to effect your relationship with Eric—"

"I know that but what choice did I have? Who knows what would have happened if I sent her away." Blake threw his hands out.

"You don't want to know," Ryan said in a dark tone.

"What?"

Ryan looked away for a moment. "There's a video from shortly after she arrived there. Do you know Riddley Jamison?" Blake nodded once. "He didn't think she'd learned enough and complained to Francois."

"Jesus."

"I wouldn't recommend watching it." Blake spun away and went back to the balcony doors. He didn't look out at the ocean view though, his head was lowered. Ryan's eyes narrowed as he took in the tense lines of Blake's shoulders. "Blake," he said quietly. "Do you love her?"

Blake shook his head but didn't look up. "She's Eric's girlfriend—"

"That doesn't mean you can't have feelings for her." Ryan's voice was gentle.

"No, I can't. She belongs with Eric, even if she doesn't think she'll ever see him again."

"She didn't change her mind about telling him?"

"Nope," Blake said as he turned around.

"So you're stuck with everyone's secrets."

"Not for long. You're going to get her out soon right?"

"Since we're going in and coming out on the water it's going to have to wait for the weather to clear."

"What kind of transportation did you decide on?"

"Outrigger," Ryan said as he started opening pictures on the screen. "They're fast and quiet. We'll go in here." He tapped the screen. Blake came back to the table and looked over his shoulder. "Between the dock and airstrip." Blake nodded.

For the next fifteen minutes Ryan explained the rest of the plan and answered questions. Afterward Blake looked toward the balcony again and frowned. The sky was getting darker by the minute.

***

The storm lasted for four days.

With the weather putting a damper on outdoor activities there wasn't much to do in terms of entertainment. The group spent most of their time in the suite playing cards and trying to keep Eric from lifting one of the guns available and running off on his own. He didn't have the skills needed to stage a rescue on his own but as the days passed his frustration grew to a point where it was becoming difficult to be around him.

After two days Blake left him in more capable hands and retreated to his room. He had his own feelings of frustration and guilt to deal with. The wait only added to the weight pressing down on him. Sleep became close to impossible between his memories of being with Jess and his imaginings of what was being done to her while they waited for the storm to pass.

Thankfully when they woke on the fifth morning the sun had broken through the clouds and the ocean was the calmest they'd seen in nearly a week. By the time the group came together for breakfast in the hotel's tiny dining room Eric had already arranged to have the plane brought down that evening. It wouldn't be needed until the following morning but he wanted it there early in case there were any problems.

Ryan, Malcolm, and Jackson spent most of the morning getting their gear in order then took the afternoon to try to rest. To get him out of the way Blake cajoled Eric into going for a walk down to the beach with him.

They picked their way along the brick lined streets to the wide open beach. All around them the sand was littered with debris. Neither of them spoke until they reached the edge of the ocean. Eric looked across the water in the direction of the resort island. Blake squinted against the blazing rays of sun that bounced off his shades then turned away.

"I should be there tonight," Eric murmured.

Blake had been expecting him to say something like that. "You'll be in the way," he said as he looked at Eric.

"What if she fights them?"

"That's why Ryan is going."

Eric waved at the water. "But what if something goes wrong?"

"They'll handle it."

"But—"

"She's going to be okay," Blake said as he turned and grabbed Eric's shoulder. "By this time tomorrow the two of you will be cozied up on the plane and we'll all be flying home."

"I hope so," Eric said with a tight smile.

"Ryan says they're the best in the business and who do you trust more than him?"

"No one," Eric said. "Except you."

Blake forced a smile to his lips. "Then you know he'll do whatever it takes to get her back to you."

Eric sucked in a breath, held it for a second, then released it in a harsh sigh, and smiled at Blake. "You're right." He clapped his hand on Blake's shoulder. Blake pulled him forward and threw his arms around him. Eric pushed him away after a few seconds. "Thanks for putting up with me," he said in a gruff voice.

"It wasn't easy," Blake said then shoved at Eric's shoulder. "I think I'm going to need a vacation after this is done. A real vacation."

"You've earned it," Eric said then shoved him back. They grinned at each other for a second then Eric turned back to the water. "After mom died you were the only person I worried about like this."

"I know," Blake said as his gaze drifted across the water. "You'll be back together soon."

"From your lips..." Eric murmured.

***

To Eric sunset seemed to take its sweet damned time that evening. When night did finally arrive the men going to the resort packed up the gear they were not taking with them for the brothers to transport. They put on tactical vests, pulled jackets on to hide everything from anyone who might spot them as they moved through the village, and bid the brothers good night.

Eric and Blake stayed at the hotel while the others headed to the dock where Jackson had stored the outrigger. They got underway and quickly found a steady rhythm that had them speeding across the water. It took forty minutes for them to come close enough to the resort island to stop paddling and let the waves carry them onto the beach. After pulling the boat far enough onto the sand that it would be there when they got back they tucked their jackets away, flipped the safety's off on their weapons, and slid night vision scopes into place. They set off across the island at a quick pace and angled themselves toward the resorts north wall, where the concubine's quarters and courtyard were located.

It was a moonless night so they were just shadows sliding through the darkness. As they had anticipated there was a lot of debris scattered across the sand near the wall. Malcolm grabbed a couple of dried palm fronds and, with a boost from Jackson, laid them over the camera near their chosen entry point and weighed them down with a rock. He sat on top of the wall, checked the space between the outer wall and the wall to the courtyard, saw that it was empty and pulled a hook from the bag on his hip. He secured it on the top of the wall and threw the rope down to Jackson and Ryan then dropped down on the other side.

Malcolm smiled as he approached the next wall. Something, either the storm or someone's negligence, had given them a gift that night. All the lights in the courtyard were out. He pulled on a glove from his bag then a tube of petroleum jelly which he held between his teeth after he unscrewed the cap. Both Ryan and Jackson boosted him up to reach the camera. As he rose up he dropped the tube into his ungloved palm and squeezed out a huge dollop into his other hand. He smeared it over the little dome, pulled himself up, yanked the glove off with a grimace, then shoved it into a pocket, secured another hook, and flipped the rope down.

He dropped down into the courtyard and pressed himself against the wall as he waited for the others to join him. Ryan landed then after a moment Jackson flipped the hook the other way and draped the rope over the wall. He dropped down then flashed a grin at his team mates. Malcolm gave him a nod then stepped away from the wall to creep under the over hand. Ryan followed after a moment. Jackson pulled a gun from a holster on his outer thigh and tucked himself into the shadows of the nearest staircase.

Malcolm and Ryan got up the other set of stairs then crept across the shared balcony to the third door from the end. Ryan held his breath as Malcolm tried the door, he let it out slowly as it opened easily and quietly. Malcolm looked back at him for a second. They both pulled a gun from a holster. If Francois had made the mistake of staying with Jess that night neither man had any qualms about making it his last. Not after what they'd seen.

Malcolm went in first. They both stayed in a crouch as they looked around quickly. There was a lone figure in the bed, the bathroom doorway was dark. It was just Jess in the room.

Ryan flipped his night vision out of the way as he stood. Malcolm closed the door slowly as Ryan approached the bed. "And now the hard part," Ryan murmured.

"Careful," Malcolm said softly.

"I know," Ryan answered as he eased himself onto the mattress near Jess' side. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Jess." He touched her shoulder gently. "Jess, wake up." She turned her head on the pillow. "Jess."

Her eyelids fluttered a few times then she tried to roll away from him. "No," she muttered. "Please, no—" She sucked in a breath. "Don't make me—"

He grabbed her shoulder and held her in place. "Jess, it's okay. We're here to take you home."

Her eyes opened as she tried to scramble out from under his hands. "I didn't tell him. I swear."

Ryan reached up to cover her mouth. "Jess stop," he whispered. "It's me Ryan." Her eyes narrowed as she tried to make out his face in the darkness. "We're taking you home."

She tried to shake her head. When his hand stayed over her mouth she tried to pull it away. "I can't— You don't understand what will happen—"

He leaned close to whisper directly in her ear. "We're taking care of it."

"We have to get moving," Malcolm said softly.

"He's right," Ryan said to Jess. "Everything is going to be okay but we need you to get dressed now."

"But how—"

"I'll explain once you're safe. Do you have something dark you can put on?"

She took a breath then nodded. "In the dresser."

Ryan slid off the bed and took a couple of steps to the dresser. Jess climbed off the bed and reached for the lamp. "Leave that off," Malcolm said quickly.

"How am I supposed to find my clothes?" She pulled open a drawer.

"Here." Ryan moved next to her, pulled his phone out of one of the many pockets on his vest, turned on the flashlight, and used his body to shield it from the doors.

She rifled through the drawers quickly, gathered everything she needed into her arms. "I'll be right back," she said then scurried to the bathroom.

Before the door closed completely Ryan followed her. "Wait a sec." He stepped in with her, closed the door, and flipped on the light. "We need to take this off." He grabbed her left hand and lifted it. The t shirt she was wearing as a night gown shifted. The clothes tumbled out of her arms as she caught it and tugged it into place. He dropped her hand to take a hold of her shoulders. "We know what they did."

She looked down then grabbed the bracelet and worked it off her hand. Her breath hissed softly as it scraped her skin. "I didn't tell them it was getting loose cause you know—" The beads landed on the counter with a tiny clicking noise. "Fuck them."

"Smart woman," he said with a smile.

"Turn around for me?"

"Sure." He spun around to face the door. As he waited he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror. She had turned her back to the mirror and slid a pair of black panties into place. Bruises dotted the backs of her thighs.

The previous day Jackson had told him that a new video had been added to her file. Based on the tense line in the normally jovial man's jaw when he delivered the news Ryan knew not to look at the video. And in that moment in the bathroom with her he almost wished that something would go wrong so he'd have the opportunity to shoot Francois before they left that hell disguised as paradise behind.

"What happens now?" Jess asked as she sat on the edge of the tub and started pulling on a pair of sneakers.

"We're going out through the courtyard, over that wall then the outer wall. From there a little run to the other side of the island to a boat we have stashed between the dock and airstrip." She stood up then zipped up a black running jacket she'd pulled on. "Stay as quiet as possible, do everything we tell you, and if something goes wrong—" He held up his hand as her eyes went wide. "We're going to do everything we can to make sure nothing does but if you get separated from us for whatever reason, get yourself to that beach and hide until one of us gets there." He reached up and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Okay?" She nodded. He flipped off the light and opened the door.

Malcolm looked over at them as they moved through the room. "Ready?"

"All set," Ryan replied then moved behind Jess. "Follow Malcolm, I'll be right behind you."

Malcolm smiled slightly. "Don't be scared, we've got you." She tried to smile back at him but it failed to materialize. "When we're moving put your hand on my back so I know where you are." He reached up and pressed down on the two black discs of his throat mic. "Jackson, we're coming out now."