but the images filtering through her mind sent the horror clawing inside her to a whole new level. She pulled in a steadying breath, desperate to find a way to remain calm and be strong for the other girls in the ten-by-twelve cell, because while she wanted to fight back, any sign of defiance would only get her—or one of the teens—killed.
She shuddered and let her gaze roam their prison. It consisted of four cement walls with a door on the one opposite from where she lay. From a small barred window above her head streamed a thin ray of light, cigarette smoke, and low voices that sounded like they were arguing, although she couldn’t make out the words.
Except for a brief stop at the outhouses lined up along the south wall that included lewd looks and a few comments she pretended not to hear, she and the other girls had been left alone by their captors.
Which was confusing, but welcome. However, she didn’t expect that would last much longer. The one thing allowing her to keep her fear under control was the fact that they hadn’t been searched. Knowing it would happen at some point, she’d seized the opportunity during a chaotic moment at the school to snag the satellite phone from the pocket of her burqa. Using the bodies crammed against her as a shield, she’d pressed the SOS button and sent out her distress signal.
Minutes passed, the only sounds being the hushed whispers and terrified weeping of her cellmates mixed with the low voices of the guards outside the window. Sarah leaned her head against the wall and watched the hallway while her hand searched through the folds of the cloth. Fatima looked up at her as Sarah’s fingers closed around the sat phone. Did she dare take a chance to see if anyone had called? If there was a message? If help was on the way? All she had to do was sneak a peek.
“Don’t ask why,” she whispered to Fatima, “but can you sit slightly in front of me?”
“Yes.” The girl moved enough to shield her from the guard’s gaze should he return.
With shaky fingers, she pulled the phone from her pocket.
Talia’s eyes widened at the sight of the phone. “What are you doing? If they know you have that, it won’t be good.”
“I know. I need to find a place to hide it.”
She glanced at the screen. Nothing. No response that her plea for help had been seen. Cold dread sent a wave of nausea through her. The SOS should have gone out to her brother, FBI Special Agent Caden Denning, and to their father, Lieutenant General Lewis Denning. Even if her father had ignored the message, Caden should have been able to track the phone and have help on the way before these monsters could blink. Caden might be in the United States, but he had a long reach. As did their father. She’d thought carefully about adding him to the SOS list, but had decided to do so “just in case.”
This situation was about as “just in case” as one could get, and for once, she was glad her father was who he was—although she’d bite her tongue in half before admitting it. Then again, if admitting it would get them out of here, she’d shout it from the rooftops.
Surely, the message had gone through. She pressed the SOS button once more and slipped the phone back into her pocket. Caden would do something. Her father? The last time she’d talked to him had been when he told her he disinherited her for going into the Army. She’d laughed. “I don’t need or want your money.” She needed and wanted his love, but that had never been within her grasp.
Because of her ongoing conflict with her father, Sarah had kept a low profile, never acknowledging her relationship to the powerful man. Just before she joined the Army, she’d dyed her blonde hair a dark brown and decided to go by a different first name, insisting her family get used to calling her by it. The only feature that might draw attention to her was her green eyes. Otherwise, with her flawless Pashto, she should be able to pass as a native. At least, that’s what she told herself.
The guard’s heavy footfalls sounded in the hallway once more and her adrenaline spiked. Another guard joined him. They stood at the door, grinning and pointing, talking openly about the girls’ futures. Bile rose in