Cargo: A Leine Basso Thriller (21 page)

Later that evening
, Kylie watched through a slit in the tent wall as Victor Wang sipped his drink and forced a smile at Clarence’s joke about God being a big game hunter. Flames crackled and snapped in the large fire pit, sending sparks into the dark sky above them. Bobbi Jo was watching Wang, a calculating gleam in her eyes. The woman was trouble, Kylie thought. She would need to stay clear of her while the two were Victor’s guests.

Wang excused himself from the fireside chat, insisting he needed to oversee the kitchen staff to make sure the buffalo Bobbi Jo brought down that afternoon was seasoned correctly. He refreshed his drink and turned to leave. Bobbi Jo stood up from her chair.

“Would you mind waiting a minute, Victor?” she called. With a sigh Victor turned and waited for her to catch up with him.

Bobbi Jo smiled at her husband and then joined Victor, the smile vanishing.

“What the fuck are you going to do with the video?” she asked, her voice low.

Victor smiled coldly and took a sip of his drink. “Keep it as insurance.”

“What do you mean,
insurance
? I demand that you delete every copy you made, or I’ll have the law come down on you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Victor Wang laughed, and turned away. Bobbi Jo grabbed his arm. Wang glanced down at her hand and then at her. “I advise you to tread carefully, Bobbi Jo.”

She let go, but leaned closer, getting in his face. “No court in the world would convict me of murder. You tricked me into thinking that girl was some kind of animal. I only killed her because of you.”

“Then how do you explain what you did afterward?” Victor asked.

Bobbi Jo’s cheeks turned several shades darker. “You stopped filming. The phone…you weren’t…” She snapped her mouth closed, shock sliding over her features.

“Yes. I was. I watched it this morning. Your actions would be construed by anyone viewing it as quite vicious.”

“You fucking asshole,” Bobbi Jo fumed.

“Now, then. Are we in agreement? My company will supply all stock required for your ranch, as well as being the one and only safari camp you and your husband will use and recommend, yes?”

Kylie sucked in a breath. Afraid Wang or Bobbi Jo would see her, she took a step backward, intending to cross to the other side of the tent. As she did so, she knocked against a glass vase on the dresser. She lunged to grab it before it toppled over and broke, but missed and the vase hit the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

In seconds, Wang was at the door, with Bobbi Jo close behind.

“What are you doing?” Wang demanded. When Kylie didn’t respond, he strode over and slapped her across the face. Kylie put her hand to her stinging cheek.

“She heard everything, you know,” Bobbi Jo said. “You’ll have to get rid of her, too. Just like you did the other one.”

“Shut up,” Wang said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t tell you, Victor, but apparently the girl cornered one of your guests yesterday. Told him she’d been kidnapped and was being held against her will. Begged the poor man to help her.” Bobbi Jo sneered at Kylie. “I laughed and told him that would never happen here. That she was a disgruntled worker and to ignore her.” She shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “You just can’t find good help these days, can you?”

“I said
shut up
, Bobbi Jo.” A muscle twitched in Victor Wang’s jaw. “Clean this up. Now,” he said, addressing Kylie. He pivoted and strode from the tent, Bobbi Jo behind him. She paused at the entrance and gave her a look that told her Kylie had made another enemy.

“You best be careful, darlin’, or you’ll end up like that Asian bitch,” she said, and walked out the door.

Knees shaking, Kylie ran to the bathroom and threw up. She cleaned up before she grabbed the broom and dustpan and went back to the shattered glass.

They killed Sapphire?
Kylie thought.
Why?
If Wang really did trick Bobbi Jo into killing her, then what would stop him from doing the same with Kylie? Especially now that Bobbi Jo had told him she was trying to escape. What if the USB drive in the drawer had a copy of the video? She went over to the dresser and opened the drawer. It was still there. She picked it up and looked around the room for a good hiding place. No way would she risk being caught with the thumb drive on her.

Nothing looked safe enough, so she slid it into her pocket, intending to find a place later on, after everything died down.

Kylie had just dumped the last piece of glass into the garbage when there was a commotion outside. She raced to the slit in the tent and looked out as three late-model pickups roared into camp, skidding to a stop a few yards from the campfire.

Each truck bed held between three or four men armed with machine guns, wearing fatigues and short-sleeved khaki shirts with epaulets and shiny brass buttons. Some wore dirty T-shirts underneath, while others didn’t bother and were bare-chested. Kylie shrank further into the shadows, doom twisting her gut. 

The lead vehicle’s four doors swung open, disgorging as many men, all wearing sunglasses even though the sun had long since vanished. A man with a beard emerged from the front passenger seat. Wang and the couple watched with wary expressions as he removed his sunglasses and grinned.

“Well, well, well. What is this? A party to which I was not invited?” The man pursed his lips in a mock pout and walked over to Wang’s empty chair.

Bobbi Jo and Clarence both eyed the rifles they’d left leaning against a tree. Victor caught Bobbi Jo’s gaze and gave a slight shake of his head, an obvious warning to not try anything stupid. She leaned back in her chair and lifted her glass.

“Who’s your friend, Victor?” she asked, her smile forced.

The man bowed, sweeping his hand back in an exaggerated gesture and said, “My men call me Doctor Death.” He straightened. “But you may call me Assad. And you are?”

“Mrs. Schneider, and this is my husband, Mr. Schneider,” she said, with a scowl. “We’re Victor’s
guests
.”

Her emphasis on the word wasn’t lost on Assad. Grinning, he dropped into Wang’s vacated seat.

Assad
? A jolt of fear flared through Kylie. Hadn’t Zara told her Wang sold Jaidee to a man with that name?

“It appears we are all the
guests
of our generous host,” Assad shot back, his mock-friendly demeanor devolving into an icy stare.

“Appears so.” Bobbi Jo’s gaze met Wang’s with a look that said,
who the hell is this asshole?

Victor Wang ignored her and snapped his fingers at the tent. “Come,” he commanded. Kylie froze, panic blooming in her chest. She attempted a deep breath but only managed a shallow gasp. Wang’s face grew red at the delay, his anger obvious.

“Come out.
Now
.”

Knees shaking and her shoulders inching toward her ears, Kylie stepped into the open, pausing near the doorway.

Wang waved his hand impatiently. “Down here.”

“But the collar…” she said, her voice quiet.

With an exasperated sigh, Wang slid his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen.

“Come,” he repeated. All eyes were on Kylie.

Worried her legs would buckle and still anticipating a shock, Kylie slowly made her way down the two steps. She exhaled in relief when the shock didn’t come.

“But where is the other one? The Thai woman you kept?” Assad asked.

Wang shrugged. “I let her go,” he answered, his gaze meeting Bobbi Jo’s. Bobbi Jo shifted in her seat and looked away. Kylie kept her face impassive.

“Pity. You should have offered to sell her to me. The child needs more tending than I am prepared to do.” He nodded at one of the men standing near his truck. The gunman reached inside and dragged Jaidee into the open. He wore a boy-sized set of fatigues and his hair had been cut in a military style. A pair of sunglasses hung around his neck.

Kylie gasped. Jaidee saw her and started to cry. “Kylie,” he wailed. She smiled, trying to calm him.

“You see?” Assad said, obviously irritated. He waved his hand in the air. “That is what he does, all day long.”

“It’s all right, Jaidee,” Kylie soothed. Watching her, Jaidee gulped in a breath and quieted.

Assad’s shrewd gaze settled on Kylie. “Perhaps we can work something out, Victor.”

Kylie stiffened. Wang wouldn’t let him take her.
Why wouldn’t he
, a voice inside her argued. He’d done the same with Jaidee, and now she posed a threat to Wang. The implications of her tenuous situation hit her with the force of an oncoming train. Her mouth ran dry as beads of sweat pooled at the small of her back.

“Why not choose a whore who pleases you?” Wang asked.

Assad gave him a sly grin and leaned back in his chair. “But she does please me. I prefer white women.”

“Even though she does not follow the Prophet?” Wang countered.

“Conversion is always an option,” Assad answered with a shrug.

“Let’s not make a decision yet,” Wang replied. “I was about to check on our meal for the evening before you arrived. I would be honored if you and your men would join us,” he said, bowing.

Assad glanced at the small army of gunmen standing near the trucks. “On behalf of my men, I accept.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Wang grasped Kylie by the arm. The Schneiders’ worried expressions mirrored Kylie’s own tremulous emotions. Wang’s firm grip on her arm told her he wasn’t about to turn her loose. In any case, she didn’t dare try to run—not while Wang still had the controls for the collar.

Wang marched her toward camp before Assad could protest. Relieved that Victor Wang wasn’t going to give her away, Kylie went willingly. Wang muttered to himself in Chinese the entire time. The only words Kylie recognized were Assad and fuck head.

Mouthwatering smells of roasting meat wafted toward her, telling her they were close to the cooking area. Instead of continuing on, they stopped in front of a wooden hut used as a storeroom. Wang dragged a key ring from his pocket, selected a key, and unlocked the door. Then he shoved her inside.

“I thought you wanted me to help you with the food?” Kylie asked, wondering what he wanted her to do in the dark space filled with jars of spices and bags of flour.

“Your services will no longer be needed this evening,” Wang muttered, and slammed the door closed.

*     *     *

Leine and Derek skirted the camp’s perimeter, heading for the fenced enclosure where Zara said she would meet them. Both carried a side arm and extra ammunition, a knife, and an MP5 slung across their backs. In addition, Derek wore a rucksack with extra gear, water, and ammo. They reached the pen with the pole in the center at 23:30. No one was there.

“Shit. Now what?” Derek paced, glancing at his watch.

“We wait,” Leine answered. Earlier, when she informed Lou she’d found Kylie at Wang’s camp, he’d told her to stand down, wait for reinforcements. Knowing that support would take several hours to mobilize, Leine had explained that leaving Kylie alone in the enclosure would be too dangerous but that the other victims would still need assistance and to send help regardless. Especially when Wang learned of the two women’s escape. The possibility of removing his staff and vacating to another location was high. She’d also asked about April, calling Lou on his evasive tactics.

Lou had sighed—a long, drawn-out, world-weary sigh.

“Brigit and Andrew tracked her to Riyadh, to a pseudo modeling agency there. But,” Lou paused.

Leine gripped the phone. “But what, Lou?” she ground out through gritted teeth.

“They lost them, Leine.”

“Lost them—” Leine repeated. “How the
hell
did they lose them?” She paced the woodchip path, anger and concern combining in a slurry of emotion she found hard to control.

Lou had assured her they were doing everything they could to find April and the other women, and not to worry. Brigit and Andrew were some of their best operatives. Leine had lost her temper and ended the call, seething with impotent rage, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not from a remote area in Tanzania.

Snapping back to the present, Leine noticed movement in her periphery. She dropped, pivoting, her gun aimed in front of her. Derek mirrored her actions. Zara emerged from behind a gnarled thorn tree, accompanied by the clank of leg irons.

“Don’t shoot. It’s me,” she whispered, her hands up. Leine eased her finger from the trigger and exhaled.

“Jesus Christ, Zara. You could have been shot,” Derek said, reaching her before she could take another step. Opening the ruck, he pulled out a pair of bolt cutters and crouched at her feet. The tool bit through the links next to both ankle cuffs. Mindful of the noise, Derek placed the chain on the ground and then stood.

“Thank you, Derek.” Zara threw her arms around him. Clearly embarrassed, Derek peeled her arms from around his neck.

“Where’s Kylie?” Leine asked, scanning the pen and surrounding area.