Delta Force Rescue - Elle James Page 0,44
her .40 caliber pistol on her, she’d have shot this man who would use a child as a pawn in his vicious game.
“When we had all the information they had to give, I had my men burn the shelter to the ground.”
Briana sucked in a sharp breath. She felt as if she’d been sucker-punched in the belly. “You are not a man. You’re not even an animal. Animals have more compassion than you.”
His lips curled in a sneer. “I did not build an empire by being kind to strangers.” His brow lowered. “Alejandra will return to El Salvador, or she will be responsible for your torture and eventual death.”
Briana’s gut clenched. Death didn’t worry her, as long as it was swift. The idea of being tortured sent shivers of fear throughout her body. She refused to let it consume her. Her mother had always told her and her brother to never borrow trouble. Never fear something that had yet to happen. And in this case, she had to do something to keep it from happening. Briana had to find her way out of this situation before the Devil started down the path of torture.
He said something in Spanish to one of the guards. The guard left the room and returned with a tray of food and drink and set it on a small table near a chair.
The Devil Boss nodded to the tray. “For now, you are my guest. But that will change if Alejandra does not come to her senses and return.”
Briana’s belly rumbled loudly. She wanted to tell the man where he could shove his food and drink. She wanted to rebel against anything he wanted her to do. But reason forced her to consider her need for sustenance to help her in her escape. She might have to traipse through the jungle for days without food or water. Better that she consume what she could when offered. She didn’t know when her next meal might come.
The Devil Boss spoke again in Spanish. One of the guards pulled a wicked-looking knife out of a scabbard strapped to his leg and came at Briana.
She backed away, running into the guard behind her.
The guard laughed, grabbed her bound wrists and sliced through the zip-tie, scraping her skin with the sharp edge of the blade.
Briana winced. As soon as the plastic tie popped free, she pressed her wrists to her sides to stop the bleeding.
El Chefe frowned. “He cut you?”
Briana’s chin rose. “It’s nothing,” she lied, holding her wrist tightly against her jeans.
The Devil Boss grabbed her wrist and yanked it toward him, getting blood on his hands. “El idiota!” he shouted and let out string of curses in Spanish. He took the rifle out of the offending guard’s hands and spoke angrily in Spanish.
The guard raised his hands and answered, as if pleading.
“Really. It didn’t hurt,” Briana said.
El Chefe pressed the rifle into the man’s chest and stared at him through slitted eyes. For a long moment, he held that stance. Then, he said, “Bang.”
The guard’s eyes widened, and his body tensed. When the gun didn’t go off, he let go of the breath he’d been holding in a relieved whoosh.
The Devil Boss spoke softly, “Pagas por tus errores.” Then he shot the man pointblank.
Briana screamed and staggered backward as the guard’s eyes rounded and his mouth opened as if to say something. Then he collapsed to the floor and lay still.
The Devil Boss turned to Briana, pointing the rifle at her chest. “I will translate for you,” he said. “You pay for your errors.”
Briana sucked in a breath, her heart pounding hard against her chest. She fully expected the cartel leader to shoot her next. She almost welcomed it to end the tumult of fear roiling inside.
Instead, he tossed the rifle to another guard and waved a hand toward the body on the floor. “Limpia este desastre,” he said and walked away from Briana.
A couple of his men grabbed the arms and legs of the dead guard and carried him out of the room.
As the cartel leader reached his desk, he turned and jerked his head toward Briana. “Llévala lejos.”
The remaining guard clasped her arm and dragged her toward the door.
“You might as well let me go,” Briana said, her voice shaking. “I don’t know where Alejandra is.”
“Your friends know where to find her. If they want you to come home alive, they will bring Alejandra to me.” The phone on his desk rang, and a smile curled his