The Harlequin Protocol by Liane Zane

Author:Liane Zane [Liane Zane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: An imprint of Zephon Books
Published: 2024-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Seven

Hands shook Olivia awake none too gently. She woke with her cheek pressed against dirty metal, a blinding headache making her eye sockets hurt.

“Kdyby hloupost nadnášela, tak se tady budete vznášet jako holubička.” If stupidity floats, you will float here like a dove, said a woman in Czech.

The server from The Wild Stallion.

“Better free my hands and feet then before I bump into the ceiling,” said Olivia in Czech, her voice hoarse.

The woman sniffed and moved away. But a moment later, Olivia felt a blade catch on the zip ties around her wrists before they snapped. The woman helped her to sit upright before turning to free Olivia’s ankles.

Olivia, wincing as she rubbed her wrists, looked around them. They rode in the back of an unconditioned panel truck. Silent women, mostly teenagers lured by Bryk with promises of modeling jobs, slumped against the sides of the truck, either watching them with disinterest or gazing into an imaginary distance. Sour sweat and sharp fear mixed in a suffocating miasma around them. Olivia’s nose wrinkled against her will.

The women that Bryk trafficked.

Olivia looked back at the woman who’d freed her. Despite the sweat slicking her skin, she exuded a coolness that Olivia admired. The dark-haired server sat on her heels studying Olivia with a glittering, impenetrable gaze.

“Though perhaps I deserve your scorn. I was trying to rescue these women, not join their ranks. But something tells me you”—she lifted her chin toward the server before continuing—“don’t need rescuing. You look like a model, but you move like someone trained to fight. Czech military?”

The woman scowled and refused to answer. Instead, she appeared to listen as the truck ground to a halt. Then she made her way to the rear of the truck through the passive women, gripped the short rope on the lift gate, and tugged. The gate rose a meter.

It hadn’t even been locked.

The woman, whom Olivia was more certain than ever was an embedded Czech military intelligence officer, dropped to the ground and disappeared.

Well. That was friendly.

Olivia began urging the women in Ukrainian and Russian to follow her as she maneuvered through them to the rear. She jumped down and swiveled to see that not a single woman had moved. If anything, some of them had shrunk farther into the recesses of the box truck.

A warning shout from the trees on the other side of the road drew Olivia’s gaze.

Just as something hammered the side of her head, sending her to her knees.

Eyes watering and nausea pouring up her throat, a kaleidoscope of unreal sensory input swamped Olivia in a massive wave of dizziness.

Hissing echoed around her before a dark fury erupted from the woods even as other men rushed from the road bracketing the stopped truck.

Olivia’s jaw dropped.

The Czech officer bent and scooped a handful of dirt from the side of the road, flinging it at the gun-wielding man looming over Olivia. He hesitated as the gritty soil blinded him.

The Czech didn’t.

She ripped the long-barreled weapon from his hands, swinging its stock into his head in a quick, smooth movement.

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