Chapter 11

Greek Island, hidden harbor on Mediterranean Sea,

"We just got a report from Bai," reported Aleia. "The C2 is on the way to where Max Reynolds dropped off the Cuban girl. They should be there in an hour. We think she is still alive, but there is a chance they've already killed her."

"Let's pray that they're not too late," replied Sam. "Do we have any word from Bill or Ada?"

"They're still in meetings at the Jordanian Embassy. As you always tell us, no news is good news."

"Omar Hasid's squad should meet the C2 when she gets to the dock, but they're running late. Who would have ever thought the chief of Iranian Intelligence would be leading a combined team of Jordanian and Israeli commandos into America to rescue the daughter of a Cuban military officer?

"We can only hope that this concept works. Speaking of hope, did someone mention getting laid?"

Florida Keys, on the C2

Max looked at Shannon in anger, "No way are you getting off this boat. You don't have the training to be on a rescue mission. You could get us all killed. You and KT are staying here. Don't look at me like that, KT. You two didn't do all that good of a job the last time you broke into a house. I'd do this by myself, but I'm not sure what Connie thinks of me. After all, I brought her to this place."

The two women saw something in Max's face that caused them to back down. Max's 'going to work' face and bearing was an unknown wonder of the world. In the Teams the story was told of a mission where a suspect died from fright from Max's look when he heard the man confess to blowing up a bus full of elementary school students.

Seeing that there was no further discussion, Max turned to Maria. "Let's get this show on the road. I've left that poor baby there too long already."

The small boat left the C2 and proceeded to the deserted dock of the estate next to the Cuban rebel safe house. As they passed the Cuban dock, they could smell cigar smoke and hear the laughter of several men above the quiet hum of the boat's electric trolling motor.

Maria looked at Max in alarm. This was a larger force than she was told would be present. Max shrugged and whispered in her ear, "Intel is always off by at least a factor of five. I always plan for it."

The gallant little putt-putt pulled into its intended slip Max jumped to the dock, tied the mooring line, and reached back to take the duffel from Maria. When they were sheltered by a boat house, Maria opened the duffel and handed Mat what looked like a set of sunglasses. When he put them on day came from the night. She next took Max's right hand, pressed what looked like a toy dueling pistol in his hand, and closed his fingers about its grip. She then pressed a small device to the end of the toy.

Max felt a small stab at the inside base of his thumb. A small red line appeared along the top of the barrel. Maria whispered in his ear, "The red line tells you how much power you have left. Be careful. This is not Star Trek. You cannot hear or see the beam, but you'll be able to see the results. To initiate a beam, press the handle with your forefinger. It aims like any pistol. No one else can now use this weapon."

Max shook his head in understanding. As they moved out, they hid the duffel next to the boathouse. An eight foot chain link fence separated the two properties. Maria held the device she used to tune Max's weapon against the wire. After she ran the device over the wire from top to bottom, she pointed her weapon at the fence. There was a slight smell of burning wire and a large hole formed in the fence.

As planned, Maria entered the compound with her alarm detector held in front of her. Max watched for men or dogs roaming the grounds. It seemed the Cubans did not trust electronics, so the alarm finder was quiet, and most of the roving guards were on a smoke break at the docks. There was no sign of dogs.

The glasses compensated for the variations of light intensity as they approached the house, so the light seen by the intruders did not vary. Maria and Max still used what ever cover they could on the off chance the defenders were using night vision equipment.

In a quick dash, Max reached the hedges next to the back entryway. Max raised his hand to stop Maria from following and moved against the outside wall of the mansion. Seconds later a sentry strolled around the corner of the building. His sloppy bearing and stumbling gate had signaled Max of his approach.

Max removed his combat knife from the sheave attached to his ankle and froze in position. The Cuban pulled a two way radio from his pocket. In Spanish he reported, "One more wasted trip around the building. This is stupid! We are hiding from ghosts. We have already killed our enemies."

A short burst of a garbled response came from the radio. The sentry replied in disgust, "Very well, I'll make another round and report in about twenty minuets."

The fact that the man had no intention of making another round of the building sealed his fate. He pulled a cigar from his pocket, lit it and set in one of the lawn chairs next to the back door. He pushed the chair into a reclining position, put his feet up, and took a deep pull of Havana's finest.

Max gently shifted his weight from the wall. With his knife held loosely in his left hand, he moved his right foot away from his hiding place. Slowly he moved in painstaking awareness that at any second he could be discovered. Insects buzzed and fed on Max's exposed flesh, but he made no move to brush them away. Conservation of movement is the key to stealth. Stealth is the key to success. Max was determined to be successful.

Suddenly Max moved. His right hand jammed the lit Cuban into the Cuban's throat. He covered his victim's mouth. He pulled the sentry's head back. The knife cut true. The knife cut deep. Max cleaned his weapon on the dieing Cuban's clothes.

Max held still for several minuets and listened to the night. Only when he was sure no alarm had been generated he motioned Maria forward.

Inside the compound mansion

.

Jessie and Sarah sat on the couch as they waited for the Cuban guard to retrieve the prisoner. "I've been impressed by this young thing, Jessie. You're going to enjoy your evening. She's truly the beautiful essence of innocence. She's so easy to mould."

"I'm looking forward to seeing the result of your work," replied the congressman. "You never let me down. Now that we have rid ourselves of Shannon, I am a new man. We need to look into a more formal relationship. A congressman always needs a dependable wife."

The conversation was interrupted by the guard ushering Consuela Adzes into the setting room. She wore a pale green, translucent silk evening gown with a plunging neckline that formed a deep 'V' that somehow forced the illusion of a Wonder Bra on steroids. The cleavage expanded as she drew deep controlled breaths that fought her growing panic. The form fitting dress flowed to almost cover the matching 6 inch satin heels, but still showed her firm legs through the long slit that started above her hips. It was obvious the design did not allow for under clothing.

Her long now blond hair fell over her bare shoulders in rich waves of elegance. Her heavily made up eyes were glossy with the unshed tears her strength of character would not allow to flow. The highlights of her solid cheeks accented the natural blush caused by the frustration of her circumstances. The chill of the air conditioning caused her nipples to stand out through the dress and bumps to appear on her uncovered skin as she shivered.

The young girl fought valiantly to maintain control over the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Every movement of her body was a study of courage. She was not going to lose her pride before these swine. She was going to be her father's daughter if it killed her.

Sarah stood to greet the girl. "Consuela, you are so blessed to have Congressman Jameson as your sponsor. Tonight you will show him your gratitude by giving him your body. You and I will please our master for this week, and you will be allowed the comfort of this facility. This is your new master. Sit in his lap and show your gratitude."

Consuela shook her head and drew on her unbelievable well of composure. "No one is my master. I may be your prisoner, but I do not yield my 'self'. You may take, but I will not give. You will kill me before you own my soul."

Jessie looked at the girl and smiled. "A challenge has been presented. Sarah, you have not done as good of a job as you claimed. If you can't control this child, how can you suppose to control the duties of being my wife? Observe lesson one."

With those words Jessie rose from his seat and approached the girl. "I will own you, body and soul. Now get on your knees."

Consuela shook her head. She didn't see the fist that took her breath away when it hit her stomach. The force of the blow doubled her over as she collapsed. Jessie grabbed an edge of the fragile dress and ripped it from her prone body. As she gathered her breath, Consuela struggled to defiantly regain her feet.

Soon she again defiantly stood before her captors. She made no attempt to hide her nudity as she stood at attention. Her heels caused an unnatural strain that accented her beautiful, growing body. Jessie looked at her for a few seconds before he slapped her across the face. She fought to maintain her balance before she looked at her tormenter defiantly.

"You will never own my soul. That was what our revolution was about, our souls. Never again will we be Yankee slaves."

"You whelp, you will yield."

"I will not."

Jessie turned to Sarah. "You will handle her. I am through with incompetent people. She will willingly do as I say, or you will join her in her fate."

Sarah placed her hand on the young girl's arm. "Consuela, we discussed this. Are we not sisters?"

Consuela replied, "You discussed. I listened. I never agreed. I will never agree."

Sarah reached to touch the young Cuban beauty. "Oh, sweet Jesus, listen to me. You must do as you're told. Our lives depend on it."

Consuela continued to look to the front. Her eyes not wavering from the disgust she directed to the congressman. Her silence filled the room

This time when Jessie drew back, he struck Sarah across the face. He then removed his belt and repeatedly whipped it around Sarah's head and shoulders. When he was exhausted from beating his secretary, he turned to the guards. "Take them to the integration room, secure them, and find Sal."

Meanwhile, Max approached the first guard found inside the house. He was setting in the kitchen fondling a bottle of rum with one hand and wiping his mouth with the back of the other. He placed the rum on the table and pushed his chair back to resume his rounds. The man stood and suddenly felt a strong arm around his neck. His last thoughts were of his lost bodily controls when another strong arm broke his neck.

Max sat the man back into the chair, slid it to the table, and placed his head on the table to look as he were asleep. He motioned to the door to the dining room and Maria preceded him into the room following her "toy" gun. The room was empty.

Maria quickly moved to the hallway and paused. She motioned Max to join her at the door and put her finger to her lip asking for silence. They heard movement at the other end of the hall. They leaned around the door and saw men leading two women to the end door. One looked like the nude subject of a gentleman's magazine layout. In spite of the outrageous high heels, her walk reflected the confidence and arrogance of the contempt she obviously held for her captors.

The other woman was not nearly as impressive. She wore a lace bra and the remnants of an expensive skirt. Her hair was amiss, and raised welts covered her back, arms, and legs. The guard kept pushing her to follow the girl through the door, but she resisted and repeatedly cried that there was some mistake. Finally the guard hit the woman so hard she fell to her knees. She then regained her feet and passed through the door, weeping and begging for mercy.