Page 56 of Captured Innocence

The unknown soldier shifted the weapon into his other hand, crouching low and moving from foot to foot. I tried to get a good look at the man who’d covered his face in dirt and blood. He was smaller than I’d expected, but still managing to pack a punch.

Since our arrival, I’d heard at least six different dialects, which was unexpected. I imagined it was required to keep me from learning the rival’s identity. The fact this soldier remained quiet wasn’t shocking.

My instinct told me that this was the one I wanted to interrogate, and it would be an absolute pleasure doing so. I took a deep breath, calculating the distance. Then I pitched my body forward, able to surprise the enemy. We both went down with a hard thud, his weapon flying out of his hand, but he was determined to continue fighting. Pitching and twisting, he did everything he could to regain control.

That just wasn’t going to happen.

I was shocked when he managed to grab another knife from his jacket, but I was too quick, pounding his arm against the cement, waiting to hear bones crack. The full weight of my body was pressed against his, the enemy’s breathing ragged, becoming an effeminate wheeze.

I slammed his hand several more times then twisted his wrist, prepared to snap it.

After few grunts, I was finally rewarded with a plea.

“Stop. Please stop.”

The cry stopped me in my tracks, the melodic voice decidedly female.

CHAPTER 17

Seconds before…

Sophia

I hovered in the shadows, the sound of gunshots screeching through the air from all directions. Was someone coming to save me? I continued digging the knife into the soldier as I tried to catch my breath. Fear was a great motivator, the threat of being raped then slaughtered pushing my adrenaline to ungodly levels. After I was certain the second assailant was dead, I yanked off his hat, tugging my long hair into a ball and shoving the thick canvas on my head. It was too large, but that was fine.

The only way I might be able to get out of here was if I was disguised, only that was almost impossible. I glared around the prison, noticing a small portion of the floor wasn’t covered in broken cement. After scraping my fingers through the soldier’s blood, I shifted toward the dirt floor. It was wet from recent rains and a leak in the roof, the mixture now mud. I painted another portion of my face with that before returning to the soldier, my breathing still labored as I fought to remove his jacket. Then I grabbed his weapon, moving to the corner a few feet away from the steel door.

Waiting.

Listening.

There were additional shouts, more gunfire. Then all was quiet. Dread tore through me as beads of sweat mixed with grime and blood, trickling down both sides of my face like war wounds. I tried to hold in my scattered breathing, but my nerves were shot, the severe tension even forcing my teeth to chatter. Seconds later, I could swear I heard voices.

Another wave of terror tore through me, but I did everything I could to shove it aside, my father’s voice whispering in my ear.

“Never allow your enemy to smell your fear. They will eat you alive because of it.”

I scanned the area then rushed to the smaller of the two soldiers, struggling to get him to his feet. Goddamn, the asshole was dead weight, but if I could use his body as a shield or if it could buy me time, it was worth the struggle. I’d just gotten his body in jerked in front of me when another loud single pop of a gun shattered my nerves.

The lock had been shot off.

I remained where I was, shaking like a leaf. As soon as the door was thrown open, all I needed to do was pitch the body forward. Then I scuttled backwards, retreating to the corner once again, waiting to see who or what walked through that door. When he did, I sucked in and held my breath.

The bastard was at least six foot four and outweighed me by an easy one hundred and fifty pounds. He was dressed in all black, his face obscured by what appeared to be night vision goggles. I was hopeful yet not stupid. This could be another enemy, another ploy. I had no way of knowing.

He stood just inside, peering at me as if uncertain what to do. For a second, our eyes locked and I was frozen, my mind nestled in a fog.

He studied the area then returned his gaze toward me. I issued a throaty growl, keeping my fingers wrapped around the makeshift knife I’d created. I lunged forward, shocked when he threw a hard punch against my jaw. Pain exploded in my head and I was pitched backward, gasping for air. I remained quiet, biting back any sound as tears formed in my eyes from the intensity of the pain. Any yelp and he’d know I was a woman.

You can do this. Fight. Keep fighting.

I didn’t hesitate, launching myself toward him a second time.

Suddenly, there was a second man, just as large and menacing as hell. I couldn’t risk who they were.

“Go, I have this,” my mystery man snarled. Wait a minute. Did I detect an accent? Italian?

We stared at each other for a few additional seconds, sizing each other up. He wasn’t certain what to do with me. Then he reacted without hesitation, pitching himself in my direction, knocking the weapon from my hand. Another wave of agony tore through me, but I refused to allow him to beat me.