SEAL's Desire (Alpha SEALs Coronado #1) - Makenna Jameison Page 0,13

He smirked as he looked down at her and walked over. She cringed away, scampering back, but he only grabbed the empty plate on the ground.

Muttering something in Arabic, he turned and walked out.

She almost breathed a sigh of relief, but another man came in as soon as he was gone. He had a plate full of rice but looked upon her with interest. Setting the plate near the entry flap, he crossed over to her, his hands moving to unfasten his pants.

Without even thinking, she screamed, and then he was rushing toward her. She yanked at the ropes as he pushed her to the ground, her wrist twisting painfully. She fought and kicked as his large body pinned her down, his hand covering her mouth. She kicked and bit at him, and then she heard a voice yelling in Arabic.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as the man from early this morning, with the cell phone, angrily rushed in yelling.

The man on top of her jumped up, talking rapidly in Arabic, and hurried out of the tent. The other man looked at her but didn’t offer any assistance or seem overly concerned that she’d almost been raped. He pulled his phone out again. “The recording from earlier was not good. Let’s try this again so I can send it to the Americans.”

Brushing her tears aside, she gasped as her wrist twisted. She’d hurt it in the scuffle. Shit. Shit Shit.

Shaking, she tried to sit up.

“This is better,” he said. “Your tears are good. They will know you are my prisoner here and that I mean business. I will film you again and upload it online. Your family will pay top dollar for your release.”

He began filming her, and she angrily looked at his phone, then at the asshole standing here. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Tell them your name,” he said.

Frustrated, she swiped at her tears. “Clarissa Rothschild. I am being held hostage in a camp here in Colombia.”

“Tell them what just happened,” he coaxed.

“I was just attacked here—almost raped. I’m tied up in a tent.”

“Very good,” he agreed. “And what do you want?”

“These men are requesting a ransom for my release. Please do whatever they say.”

He turned off the camera and stuck the phone into his pocket. Crossing over toward her, he began talking in Arabic.

“What are you saying?”

“You are mine,” he said smugly. “I have much work to do today, but I will come back for you later.” His gaze fell on the plate of rice. “If you can reach that food, it is yours.”

He turned and walked back out of the tent, and she looked over at it in confusion. Good grief. How was she supposed to get the food when she was still tied to this damn pole? Her wrist ached, and she feared that it was broken. The rope bit into her skin, but the injured wrist was already turning black and blue.

Tears filled her eyes again. What did he mean he’d be back for her later?

Chapter 8

Blake strapped his Kevlar vest on and sheathed his knife. He glanced at his assault rifle leaning against the table and picked up his gas mask and helmet. There was no telling what would happen if there was a chemical leak from the weapons. The intelligence they’d garnered hadn’t indicated what was inside them.

His men moved around him, readying their gear.

Troy adjusted his night vision goggles and spoke through his headset. “I sure as shit hope we don’t accidentally set off those weapons. We don’t need a goddamn chemical leak when we’re retrieving the package.”

“You and me both,” Grayson said.

Blake looked at his men. “We’ll be entering from the opposite side of the camp. Sat imagery shows that all of the weapons are located in huts closest to the highway.”

“Makes sense,” Ethan said. “They can store them there and then put them into vehicles when they transport them north. And the asshole in charge?”

“At the other end of camp where the men are sleeping,” Blake confirmed. “The terrain is rough with thick vegetation throughout the rainforest, but approaching on that side offers the least chance of detection.”

“And the least chance of causing a chemical leak,” Troy said.

Blake nodded. “We need to avoid aiming anywhere near the huts. If the men run that way—let them. The Colombian military will be standing by further down the highway. They won’t escape.”

“Not unless they sneak off into the rainforest,” Logan said.

“I’ve got the latest maps,” Jackson said, moving toward the others. “When we