Operation: Marauder
Chapter 6

Zoey woke up Sunday morning and looked at her phone. Still no calls. In her own delusional mind, she had been convinced that he would call her while she was sleeping to let her know he had finished his job. He didn't. He hadn't called yesterday either. She had assumed he was a technician or maintenance worker, someone whose job wouldn't take days to finish. Apparently she was wrong.

And Jack said he would be gone at least a week on his mission, so she didn't even have her big brother to rant on about how much men sucked. He usually bought her ice cream and just listened. She loved that about him. He was always willing to listen. He just, you know, was never around.

She puttered around the house for a few hours, doing chores, basic home maintenance. When she finished up, she called Josie to see if she wanted to fly. Flying always made her feel better. Today was perfect for flying, with clear skies and low winds forecasted until late tonight.

Obviously, Josie was all for it and arranged to meet her at the airport across town in an hour. Zoey couldn't get there fast enough and her friend was already there, waiting for her. As soon as Josie, a woman a full three inches taller than Zoey with a whole lot of heart, laid eyes on her, she threw her arms out and gave her a big hug. "Girl, where have you been? Tell me everything!"

Zoey had been counting on Josie telling her everything that had been going on in her life so she didn't have to think about her own. They hadn't seen each other in weeks, surely enough time for a few good stories to tell.

"Work as usual," Zoey dismissed, following her friend to the hangar space they rented.

Josie tossed her curly blonde mane over her shoulder and looked at her, exasperated. "You wouldn't believe what happened to me last week."

Zoey would have never believed any of Josie's stories if she hadn't become a part of many of them. They were wild and definitely not things that would happen to people. Unless your name was Josie Kauler. This time Josie had gone to a VIP club in a neighbouring town just west of Connaville. They wouldn't let her in, she wasn't "VIP" enough, until a small time actor came by and was transfixed--she said it--by her beauty and asked her to join his party. How could she say no?

After the pre-flight check, she went on to tell her that the actor had caught another guy flirting with her while she was getting drinks at the bar. The men got into a huge fight over her. The cops had to come in to break it up.

They had to wait for a couple of planes to clear the runway before it was their turn to hit the skies. Once they were airborne, Josie, in control of the plane, angled them to fly over the farmlands--on the opposite side of town from the base. They had once made the mistake of going west to check out the mountain passages, just shy of the base's boundaries, but they ended up flying too close and got into a shit tone of trouble. She was embarrassed to say she had to wave Jack's name around to get them out of being charged with trespassing.

They flew for hours, Zoey happily sitting, watching the world unfold beneath her while Josie told her more exciting things about her life. The girl sure could fit a lot in three weeks. Zoey didn't mind; whenever she wanted a break from her mundane life, all she had to do was pick up the phone.

Josie offered her the controls for a third time and when Zoey passed it up yet again, her intuitive friend set a suspicious gaze on her. "Okay, who is he?"

Zoey stared. "Who's who?"

She rolled her eyes at her lame attempt to deflect the conversation. "You always want the controls. . . unless there's a guy on your mind. So spill your guts, girl. Who is he? What's he like? How long have you been seeing him?"

Why did her friend have to know her so well? She let out a reluctant breath. "He was a client of mine. We haven't been on a date yet--you know my rules. We tried on Friday, but his work called him in. He said he'd call me when he was done. He hasn't called yet." She only wished she had something exciting to say about Rowan.

"Oh." Josie shifted in her seat, trying to hide her disappointment. "Well, what does he do?"

Feeling her mood sour the more she thought about her situation, she leaned her elbow on the window, pressing her forehead on the cool glass; typically she'd kick her feet up, but there wasn't enough room to do that in the cockpit. "I don't know. He does something on the base. Something that apparently gives them the right to call him in whenever they want."

"Hold up." Josie looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You're dating an army man? I thought you wrote them off after everything with your dad and all."

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "We technically haven't started dating yet, so there's still time to write them off completely. Trust me, if you met him, you'd understand. The man is sex on a stick. I think he's a pilot--or used to be," she added when she remembered he thought he'd been in the sky so long he forgot about what lies on the surface. It was such a strange thing to say. "He makes me curious."

"Well, if he's that good, what are you doing waiting around for his phone call? Go to his house. Give him a little surprise to come home to." She winked, undoubtedly remembering the time they had gone to Victoria's Secret together to buy a one piece. They forced each other to wear them all day under all of their clothes; the idea was for them to feel sexy for themselves, not anyone else.

This plot felt like a violation of that day.

"I don't know where he lives." Zoey rubbed her brow, no longer interested in the view below them. "I'm going to give him a week to call. If he doesn't I'm going to call you and go on a male detox."

Josie pouted at the thought of having no man in her life. "That doesn't sound like fun."

"Neither is my love life."

She nodded her head from side to side in reluctant agreement. "Fair point. All right. I've flown enough, if you're not going to take over, I'm taking us down."

"Down it is."

They were on the ground within the hour, steering the plane for the hangar. Once parked, the girls said their goodbyes. Josie had gotten lucky and had found a spot to park her little Fiat close to the hangar; Zoey had not been so fortunate and had to walk down the road for her Civic. Josie honked at her as she zipped by and Zoey waved while fumbling for her keys.

It had gotten dark quickly and there were no streetlights on the road. When Josie's brake lights faded in the distance, she was all alone. For all of five seconds, until a van raced down the road towards her, coming from the direction her friend had gone. She finally fished her keys out of her purse, not thinking anything of it, but when the van slammed on their brakes behind her, all sorts of alarms went off in her head.

She yanked the door open and reached into the glove compartment for the combat knife Jack had given her.

She wasn't fast enough.

Her assailant dragged her out of the car and threw her into the side of the parked van. It was too dark to make out his face. The door slid open. More hands grabbed her. Screaming, she tried to pull herself away, but they were too strong and easily hauled her inside. The next thing she knew, a sack was being thrown over her head. It didn't stop her. They pinned her shoulders down on the van's floor, but she kicked up, scoring someone in the jaw.

An angry hiss rang through the van.

Another chuckled. "I like humans. They always fight back, even when its futile. Makes them so much more delicious."

She did not like the sound of that, and cursed them out, swinging a fist blindly. Suddenly, a wrist grasped a hold of both of her wrists and pinned them above her head. His full weight laid over top of her, making sure to secure her legs neatly under his to ensure no escape.

A chill ran down her spine. His freezing cold breath spilled over her neck as he laughed at her struggle. Terror froze her solid as sharp teeth grazed over her skin.

What the fuck? Are they some freaky vampire cult?

"Don't, Sid," someone from deeper in the van called. "He wants her alive."

Sid, the man holding her down with strength Jack hadn't prepared her for, dragged his tongue from the base of her throat up to her ear. "Just one bite."

"You fucking freak! Let me go!" She fought with everything she had--and then his fangs sank into her flesh. She cried out, struggling to buck him off. He took her blood one gulp at a time, and her strength was taken away from her every passing second. Just when she thought she was going to pass out, he retracted his fangs and licked her clean, humming in satisfaction.

"And now she's not fighting. A win-win, if you as me." The sick fuck moved away from her, leaving her with a shiver.

She tried to reach for her wound, but while he had been. . . feeding, the others--she estimated there were at least three in the back with her and another driving--had tied her hands to a buckle in the floor. She tried to put things together, understand what was going on, but she had lost so much blood it was hard to concentrate. Even then, she wasn't sure she could understand. Someone had just drank her blood! That kind of shit didn't happen in real life! Vampires weren't real.

Then how do you explain his fangs retracting, Zoey? She felt them shrink back to regular canines while his teeth still had hold of her. She couldn't deny it.

What kind of nightmare have I gotten myself into?

The panic was rising. She felt it in her chest, slowly seizing control of her body. Jack had warned her in dangerous situations that this feeling would be the difference between life and death. She had to shove the panic aside. Had to swallow her fear. She needed to think.

She had already decided there were four vampires in the van with her, all silent now that Sid had had his way with her. It sounded like there was a fifth who wanted her alive. They had used zip ties to bind her. They were prepared, professional maybe. This van smelt clean, not new. They might have rented it.

She didn't know what to do with all of this information, but if she stored it, she might be able to sort through it all later. Give it to the police. . . If she lived long enough to talk to them.

Right now her goal was surviving whatever the fuck was going on. The authorities could wait.

The van came to a janky stop. A pair of hands held her wrists together while another cut her ties. They dragged her out of the van then slapped a pair of zip ties on her wrists again, taking no chances. Two men, one on either side of her, lead her inside a building. Judging by the dry air, it could have been a warehouse. She strained her eyes to see through the burlap sack but there was little light to give her the slightest inkling of where exactly she was.

Another door opened then she was shoved into a cold metal chair. The sack was pulled from her eyes, revealing a small room with a single fading light hanging from the ceiling. The walls were brick, the only window barred, giving her a tiny peek out to the meadow beside the building. With dusk on the horizon, she couldn't see much of anything.

A man slipped out of the shadows, tugging a startled yelp out of Zoey's throat. She hadn't noticed him at all while surveying the room. He wore black cargos and a tight turtleneck that made his already pale skin look sickly. It was his eyes that frightened her, though; they were utterly black, not a peep of white.

My God, they really are vampires.

Silently, he took a seat opposite her and laid down a few photographs on the table. Her eyes widened when she saw a picture of Jack and her at the grocery store; they were picking up snacks for movie night. Another one was at her home, Jack sitting on the couch beside her, watching some god-awful, cheesy horror movie. The next one surprised and confused her: Rowan and her sitting in his Rover the day he picked it up; they were still in the parking lot of her garage. There were more pictures, but she didn't recognise the other men. One was built like a bodybuilder with jaw length blonde hair and unusual red eyes; he was making out with a woman she didn't know in a car. Another showed a man with dark green hair and yellow eyes, thinner than the last man but had arms that looked like they were cut from marble. The man with cobalt blue hair stood out the most from them all, both in his frame and sharp looks.

She lifted her eyes to the man sitting across from her. "What do you want?"

He narrowed his soulless eyes on her. "Answer my questions then we'll see what it is exactly I want from you." His accent was strange, unlike anything she had ever heard. Maybe from some small European country. Regardless, she didn't like his tone; it was cold, indifferent to the undoubtedly immoral choices that had led him to this moment.

His gaze honed in on the wound on her neck and he scowled in annoyance. "It appears one of my men took liberties they shouldn't have when they brought you here. This complicates things. I would answer my questions truthfully if I were you."

She wanted to snap at him and remind him he hadn't asked her anything yet, but she was afraid if she started getting snappy now, he'd make her regret it.

"What is your relation to his man?" His finger landed on a picture of Jack.

"He's. . ." She had to swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. "He's my brother."

He took a moment to process then moved on to Rowan's picture. "Same question."

"He was a client," she replied truthfully. She didn't know what was going on, how Jack wound up in the same stack of pictures as Rowan and these other men, but she knew admitting she was close to Jack was dangerous enough, she didn't want to push her luck by admitting she was crazy about a man she barely knew. Which she was seriously reconsidering after this encounter. "I detailed his car."

The man watched her carefully, digesting, picking her apart piece by piece as if he could somehow read her mind and tell she wasn't giving him everything.

Sweat trickled down her spine.

"What are you doing in his car?" he asked methodically.

She licked her lips. "I was showing him all the stuff I did for him. He gave me a ride home afterwards; it was raining, I wasn't going to say no."

After another intense minute of his critical stare, he seemed satisfied with her answers and gestured to the other pictures. "Are you familiar with any of these men?"

"No."

"Hmm." He collected all of the pictures except the ones of Jack. "Tell me about him. Your brother. Where does he live? Any hobbies? Lover?"

"He's married to his job," was all she gave him. She didn't like where this line of questioning was going. It couldn't be good for Jack.

The man waited for her to say more. She didn't. A hiss slipped through his teeth as he bared his fangs at her. She jumped back in her chair, biting back a scream. "Do you value your life, human? If you do, you'll tell me more about this man."

"What do you want with him?" It seemed to her that he didn't even know his name. They had nothing on Jack. They could only get to him if she spilled it. Which meant she was likely to die today because she wasn't going to tell them anything about him. She tried not to be scared, and fought against the tears running down her face.

"These men are extremely dangerous." He gestured to the pictures tucked away on the table. "Your brother is not like them. He is their weakest link. I know this man--" he found Rowan's picture "--will do anything for his team, even give himself up to save another. I want this man and his team. If you give them to me, I will let you and your brother live."

Her instincts had been right to not mention Rowan in any other manner. She didn't trust the vampire's promises. She knew that Jack was going to get caught in the crossfire of whatever this was and she would do anything to protect him even if she didn't understand how Rowan could be dangerous or how Jack knew him.

He gave her a minute to compose herself, but even as she had stopped the tears from coming, she wasn't talking. He quickly realised that and growled fiercely. Abruptly, he stood up and walked out the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The silence that followed filled her stomach with dread. She was trapped, alone and afraid, in the middle of nowhere.