Free At Last
Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.
A/N: Wow! Thank you for all of the encouraging reviews! I am extremely humbled that you liked my first chapter and I hope this story will live up to your expectations. It makes me a little nervous to continue, but I'm already working on an ending. I had intended to post the previous chapter before the weekend, but I went skiing with my family instead. ^_^ Anyway, this chapter is from Ranger's POV and it's almost twice as long as the previous one to make amends for its tardiness. Warning: There are some flashback/dream scenes of torture, but I believe I've written them in such a manner to maintain my 'T' rating. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!
"That had to be the longest night in the history of the world," Ranger said. "I was captured by Columbian rebels and tortured for three days and it was better than that dinner."
Fearless Fourteen
Chapter 2: Tortured Soul
Tank was right - our men should be celebrating. My mood was bringing everyone else's mood down. I knew I felt embarrassed by those snotty-nosed punks who almost toppled my business, but that was much, much better than if one of my own people had been trying to ruin me. As I rode the elevator up to the seventh floor, I thought about how idiotic I'd been. Hopefully - now that I was out of the picture for the rest of the night - the guys down in the control room and on the fourth floor would be able to loosen up and have a good time.
My biggest problem right now was that I hated to admit how much Stephanie's long stop at Morelli's house bothered me. I want my Babe so much that it's become a constant physical ache in both my body and my soul. I usually try to gloss over the subtle torture with heavy flirting and suggestive remarks, but it's getting harder and harder for me to push her away. Sure, we've had some close calls, but the physical flirtation has become the norm between us. Technically, though, I haven't done anything to steal her away from Morelli permanently.
Even though I'd told Tank that this is the way it has to be, I agreed with him that Stephanie should still be in my bed and not back in Morelli's tonight. In fact, although she and I shared my bed all week long, I didn't make a significant move on her. I almost had a taste of my Babe's sweetness this morning, but her damn cell phone rang and she just wouldn't ignore it. I couldn't believe my bad luck - it was Steph's father calling to complain that she still had his cab. She jumped right out of bed to pick up the passenger for her father and left me high and dry. Of course, my men have no idea what really goes on between me and Stephanie behind closed doors - and, truthfully, I don't want my men to find out that I'm such a fraud.
A while ago, when Stephanie first started working for RangeMan, I allowed everyone in the building to believe that she and I have an ongoing physical relationship. Actually, I've only made love to her the one time - in accordance with that ridiculous deal I made with her after I helped her bring in Eddie DeChooch. What a colossal mistake that turned out to be! Now Stephanie is the only woman I want to be with and I can't have her - not completely, anyway.
Honestly, though, I doubt that anyone would blame me for trying to get away with poaching from Morelli as much as I can. Stephanie has broken up and reconciled with that guy so many times in the past few years that I no longer feel as guilty as I should when I pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. I'd probably stop if she told me to - if I thought she really meant it - but my Babe usually lets my hands and lips roam pretty far before her misplaced guilt kicks in.
I know that the surveillance cameras all over my building have recorded the kisses and the touches and the barely-contained sensuality that Steph and I share when she's in my vicinity. Whoever is watching the monitors is sure to get quite a show and my Babe would kill me if she knew just how serious my men think our relationship is. I'm sure that even Tank is convinced that she and I are having sex on a regular basis up in my apartment. And it's entirely my fault that I've let the charade go on for far too long.
The fact is: My personal life sucks! It's a complete mess - and I can't figure out exactly how to clean it up. There's a phenomenally strong bond between me and Stephanie and I know she feels it, too. Sometimes it's like I'm addicted to some sort of exotic drug designed specifically for me. I hate myself for being too weak to give her up, but the last time I went 'cold turkey' and stayed away from her, I could barely function. Sure, I can kick ass all day long and take down bad guys until there aren't any left standing, but everything seems so pointless when I haven't had a 'fix' of my precious Babe.
Unfortunately, short of storming over to Morelli's house and causing a big ruckus, there was nothing I could do about it tonight. Stephanie didn't - and never had - belonged with Morelli, but he went after her first. In fact, they've already shared so much history together that she has difficulty envisioning her life without him playing the starring role. The harsh reality of my current condition means that Stephanie can't belong with me, either - at least, not yet and perhaps, not ever. Time will tell, but I sense that I'm running out of such time to eclipse Morelli in my Babe's heart.
When I entered into the peaceful sanctuary of my private apartment, I convinced myself that it would be best for everyone's sake for me to get some rest and start fresh in the morning. I took a very hot shower and stood under the pulsating streams of water for a long time, sighing as the tension in my neck and shoulders rinsed down the drain. Afterward, my robe, which was hanging on the hook on the back of the bathroom door, caught my attention. I rarely ever wore the thing, but Stephanie had begun to wrap it around her luscious body whenever she took a shower at my place.
On a whim, I shrugged into the silky soft, seldom-used robe and tied the sash around my waist. It still held Stephanie's special scent within the folds of its luxurious fabric. The robe really was comfortable and I made a mental note to thank Ella once again for being such a great shopper. Breathing in my Babe's delicious fragrance, I realized that I was behaving like a love-sick teenager in one of those sappy telenovelas my sisters watched on TV. It was both disgusting and pathetic, but I kept the robe on anyway.
The smooth leather cushions of my living room sofa made a soft creaking sound as I flopped down onto them and turned on the large, flat-screened TV. Flipping through channel after channel, I tried to find something - anything - that would take my mind off of Stephanie. Not surprisingly, there was nothing good to watch on any of the 400 channels after midnight. I finally settled on an Animal Planet show about the jungle cats of South America.
That turned out to be a big mistake. The sights and sounds coming from the TV transported me back in time to one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. I dozed off while watching footage of the lush, green habitat where the elusive felines roamed and I was powerless to prevent the screaming growls of mating jaguars from flowing into my subconscious mind. It was impossible for me to prevent the dreams - nightmares, really - that followed ...
The only screams now were the ones happening inside of my head. I clenched my teeth together and bit down on the inside of my mouth to keep any sounds from escaping. Even after two days of beatings and a third day of electrical shocks to the most sensitive places on my body, I refused to give my captors the satisfaction of uttering a sound louder than a low grunt or labored breathing. The closest I came to cracking was after one of the torturers removed a fourth toenail from my foot.
"You will talk to me, my fine young Americano," said the velvety voice of Eduardo Lagos, commonly known as El Lagarto - the Lizard. His slightly lisping Spanish sounded much more refined than the harsh dialect of the Columbian rebels who had been torturing me. "My guards tell me that their methods of persuasion have not yet loosened your tongue, but sooner or later, everyone talks. Now it is my turn and I always succeed."
The Lagos family was closely affiliated with the powerful Norte del Valle drug cartel in Colombia. In particular, Eduardo Lagos ran a secret laboratory where he specialized in creating highly addictive designer drugs instead of producing cocaine like the rest of his family. U.S. intelligence operatives discovered that Eduardo, who had been a medical doctor, had recently developed a very powerful and potentially lethal new drug.
Apparently, Josef Mengele was an inspiration to Eduardo Lagos, whose long-term obsession was population control. The doctor-turned-mad scientist truly believed that he was on an important mission from God to rid the world of people he deemed unworthy of living - drug addicts, illiterate peasants, political enemies, and anyone else who annoyed him. Like Mengele, El Lagarto tested his experimental drugs on human subjects, often with gruesome or fatal results.
Our DEA operatives had heard the rumors that the new drug really was a sterilizing agent and that El Lagarto was pressuring his family's cocaine producers to add it into their shipments to the United States. Unfortunately, Eduardo's private army discovered and captured our special operations team that had gone in to investigate the situation in the northern jungles of Columbia. Now my entire platoon had the tasks of rescuing our comrades and then shutting down the lab and El Lagarto - permanently.
I was a seasoned lieutenant back then - recently selected for early promotion to the rank of captain - and I'd been on these types of missions several times already. Unfortunately, my training and experience hadn't mattered very much because there was a 'mole' in one of the agencies who knew about our mission and El Lagarto's rebels were ready for us almost as soon as we set foot in his part of the jungle. After a brief fire-fight, my team and I were captured, too. Thankfully, my second-in-command, Sergeant Pierre Santiago - also known as Tank - had escaped with one of the other teams and I knew he'd be back with more firepower ASAP. I only hoped they'd get here soon - one more toenail extraction and I'd have to bite my tongue completely off to keep from talking.
El Lagarto's red-rimmed eyes gazed glassily into my stony glare as he dragged his manicured fingernails down my bruised chest. Clearly, the madman had been dipping into his own illegal drug supplies for far too long, but it didn't matter now because we both understood that he possessed all the power and I possessed none. I was naked, shackled and chained to the wall. No amount of struggling would free me from his hellish prison.
In preparation for this mission, I'd read the complete file on Eduardo Lagos and I truly began to feel more fear than I'd had in a long, long time - not since my first, terrible days in juvenile detention. Although El Lagarto's tastes primarily ran toward effeminate teenaged boys, I sensed that he was ready to make an exception for me. My blood ran cold whenever he touched me; the lust in his eyes and the reaction of his body made his intentions quite obvious.
It took every bit of control I possessed not to flinch or react when El Lagarto took hold of me and whispered seductively into my ear. "I own you now," he said. "One way or another, Ricardo - yes, I know your real name, Lieutenant Manoso - you'll tell me what I want to know. And I want to know everything before I dispose of you. I've considered keeping you around as my new grown-up play toy, but the other boys would become jealous. Besides, I'd probably have to keep you drugged to control you and that's really not so much fun for me anyway. Now, we shall begin ..."
I awoke with a start. It took me a moment to calm my breathing and to realize where I was at that moment. The documentary about jaguars and ocelots had finished and now there was a different show on about a bunch of pet owners who coaxed a variety of dogs and birds into performing stupid tricks for a studio audience. I turned off the TV and breathed a sigh of relief that I was here in my apartment in Trenton and not in the jungles of Columbia.
Back then, Tank had led two squads of Army Rangers back to the compound to rescue me and the other captives. He, Bobby and Vince found me and freed me before El Lagarto had the opportunity to fully violate me, but not before that lunatic had abused me in several other ways. My head was so messed up that Tank had to pull me away from repeatedly kicking Eduardo's bloody corpse long after my tormentor had taken his final breath. That's the only time I've ever lost control of myself and even though those horrific events took place long ago, they still haunt me. Someday ... someday soon ... I hoped to break free.
It took a few months for my body to recover from the major injuries back then, but there were other issues which became obvious as time wore on. We later learned that Eduardo Lagos' final experiment was far more insidious than anyone had thought. From studying his computer files and notes, our scientists discovered that El Lagarto planned to sterilize all of the drug-addicted population of the world and that he also intended to prevent his enemies from procreating.
Not only had the crazy bastard mixed the drug into every sorry scrap of food he'd fed his captives, but he'd also sprayed it onto the foliage surrounding his compound. The whole area was contaminated. As a result, all of the soldiers, including me, on that ill-fated mission had ingested enough of the drug to be rendered completely sterile until our country's scientists were able to figure out how to counteract the poison with periodic injections of a specialized antidote. Unfortunately, the antidote caused nausea and fatigue, which we learned to combat with a healthy, well-balanced diet and a consistently rigorous exercise regimen.
There seemed to be few other side effects. To our great relief, El Lagarto's drug hadn't rendered anyone impotent. Everything worked just fine except for the fact that we all were 'shooting blanks' whenever we had sex. This was devastating for the married men and their wives, but the single guys only worried about their inability to create new life when they became serious with their girlfriends. Dr. O'Neill recommended that we all still use condoms for the sake of protection from other complications, but until he and his team of scientists figured out a real cure for our sterility, it really didn't seem to matter. There hadn't been any children conceived since that mission.
Only the fact that my older brother already had three sons, as well as the fact that I'd already fathered my daughter, Julie, helped me to cope with my personal situation. We'd already endured that the Manoso name and genes would live on beyond our generation. My condition was bearable and I was otherwise fine, or so I told myself, until I fell in love with a woman who was driving me crazy - Stephanie Plum. I would give her the world on a platter if she'd allow such a thing, but my Babe was the kind of girl who would want to have a child of her own eventually - and that was the only thing Morelli could give to her that I couldn't.
Making matters worse, I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost three o'clock in the morning. I checked my phone for messages, but Tank hadn't called me to say that Stephanie's location had changed. Like I said - my life sucked. I began to wonder if it was time to relocate to my Miami offices for a long, long while. Perhaps a change of scenery was just what I needed.
Sleep was what I needed now, but I almost feared lying back down. It had been such a long time since I'd had any dreams that I could remember, but dreaming about El Lagarto brought back too many dark thoughts and feelings. I was glad that the doctor assigned to our case was coming to Trenton soon. Perhaps Dr. O'Neill would have good news for us this time. I really needed to hear some good news.
Dragging my weary body to bed became my immediate goal and it was all I could do to crawl in between the cool sheets. I was thinking about how lonely my king-sized bed felt without Stephanie's warm body to snuggle up next to mine when I became acutely aware that the pillows still smelled like my Babe. Her scent lingered on them even more than it did on the robe. Burying my face in the pillow's softness, I allowed my tortured soul to enjoy the illusion of having Steph here in bed with me. Then I drifted off into a deep - and mercifully dreamless - sleep.
A/N: Okay, I realize that this chapter was rather angst-ridden and that there weren't any "Hooah!"s in here; however, it was necessary to lay the foundation on which I'll be building the rest of the story. The next chapter will involve a bit more of the Merry Men, but not so much Stephanie. Never fear - I'm sure she'll show up soon enough. Again, I'm very grateful for all your encouraging reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think of my story. Thanks!! :D