“Are you seeing a pattern here?” Ryan asked.
“Yep, but it leaves the question of why they took Aziza when she was here with a group.”
“Forgive my choice of words, but if you can separate your target from the herd, it makes the job easier.”
“True that,” Dro said.
Ryan sat forward. “Your bartender looks like he’s about to take a break or something.”
A man dressed in black nodded to Jahani, who tipped his head toward the back of the club. Five minutes later, Jahani said something to another bartender and walked through a door behind the bar.
When his voice hit them a moment later, the clarity was impressive. “We have one potential female, but I’d like to have her first.”
Angela interrupted, translating their words from Arabic.
“We missed out last time because of those interfering foreigners.” The man’s harsh voice climbed as he uttered what Ryan assumed was a curse word. “Did you put something in her drink?”
“You expect me to do that and be out here talking with you?” Jahani asked. “It is early. We have time.”
In an emphatic tone, his companion said, “We cannot afford to make any mistakes this time.”
“I agree.” Jahani chuckled. “I might have a little action later tonight. I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way.”
“As long as Fahid and the boss are happy, we—”
“No names,” Jahani hissed. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Sorry. I won’t forget again.”
“I should hope not.” The music from the club intruded on the conversation as if they stepped back into the building. Then Jahani said, “I will give the woman in red the treatment in the next drink. Don’t mess this up.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You will never escape.” Abdul scowled, as if he thought it would intimidate her.
She turned on her bare heels. “If you don’t shut up … ”
“What will you do?” he taunted from where he lay propped on one elbow.
Aziza let her gaze stray to his crotch. “You don’t want to know.”
When he winced and drew his legs together, she smirked.
A force hit the door with the impact of a battering ram.
“What di hell is dat?” Kelsie asked in a pronounced Patois. The tall woman with braids and dark skin had proven herself proactive in the last half-hour. She organized the women in teams to pile the cots against the entrance. Then, she set about calming the young girls who fell apart as the threats from the men outside intensified. Her accent had the same nuances as that of her parents and her grandmother, so Aziza thought she was from Jamaica. That, she would investigate later, if she had the time and opportunity.
“Sounds like reinforcement,” Aziza said, glancing at the gun she’d leaned in the corner. “But not for us.”
Kelsie lifted the handgun they took from Abdul. “Don’t worry. I know how to use this. I’ll help you hold them off.”
Worry gnawed at Aziza’s stomach, but she maintained an air of confidence. No one else knew her secret. She’d watched Drake do internet searches that would have put fear into their mother, if she knew what he was doing online. Often enough, Aziza sat at his elbow and watched live videos of people handling guns and rifles. She wasn’t a marksman by any stretch of the imagination. Heck, she hadn’t ever touched a weapon before today, but she had a good idea of how to handle herself if it came to the test. God help anyone within range if she had to engage the AK-47.
Beckoning toward the bathroom, Aziza handed her the key. To all of them, she said, “Search this place and see what you can find to defend yourselves. Doesn’t matter how large or small. Some of you go with Kelsie. Make sure you get all the shower hooks, plus whatever else you can find.”
When they didn’t move immediately, she shooed them. “Go on. We can’t be at their mercy. We have to protect ourselves and the kids.”
The men continued to assault the door. From what she gathered, two other men had joined those who chased them down. She glanced at the gun, reassuring herself it was within easy reach.
“Who are they?” she asked, facing Abdul.
He stared at her as if he’d lost the ability to speak.
“Are they your business partners?”
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, but he didn’t answer.
The hum of the air-conditioning stopped, and the women stared at each other. Someone had switched off the cooling system. The four narrow windows at the top of the container were sealed with glass, which limited the air flowing inside. The unrelenting heat promised to creep on them within minutes, making them miserable. Thank God they were at the back end of the day, but they needed a miracle—the sooner the better. Their only advantage was that the night offered cooler temperatures.
At the far end of the room, Hamid sat on a cot with his head lowered. He, too, was chained to the metal frame. His eyes met Aziza’s, but she looked away. She didn’t have time to regret how she treated him, never mind the fact that the way he made his living was outside of the law.
“If you do not open this door now, we will shoot.”
“Well, so will I,” Aziza yelled, then immediately realized her mistake. She waved madly at the women, motioning for them to get down on the floor. Then she followed her instinct, flipped the lights off, and squatted. If these men kept up a sustained attack, they would shred the metal and kill them all.
A hail of bullets descended. The women panicked and scrambled to the back of the container, amid blood-curdling screams. When they huddled against each other on the floor, Aziza scuttled toward them on her hands and knees. She put a finger to her lips, then spoke in a stage whisper, following her own instructions as she gave them. “Keep it down and get on your bellies.”
To the echo of sniffles and whimpers, they spread out. The stench of fear hung heavy around them,
