Get a sneak peek at Secrecy Order, a title in the Marc Wayne action adventure sci-fi technothriller series. Check out the first two chapters of Secrecy Order.
Chapter One of Secrecy Order
His box was being pried open.
Marc Wayne wasn’t certain how long he had been folded inside the small rectangle, but he felt desperate for water. He squirmed, trying to encourage blood flow to his numb feet. Cramped, different parts of his body had taken turns screaming in agony during the transport. Mercifully, a few areas eventually lost feeling due to pinched circulation. Not as courteous, his neck, shoulders, and hips shrieked with pain.
With a final snap, the wooden lid broke open and Marc squeezed his eyes closed against the sudden rush of blinding sunlight.
“Son of a…” the oath seamlessly streamed into another language that Marc guessed to be Arabic. He recognized cheekia, slang for guns. And dhimmi, a word meaning Christian set apart for religious tolerance by the Koran.
Someone roughly grabbed his shirtfront and jerked Marc upright. Spasms wracked his legs with searing pain. Dragged out of the box and to his feet, Marc wobbled weak-kneed, needles of circulation returning to his lower legs, and keenly aware of an AK-47 pressed into his ribs.
Behind him he heard the top pulled off the second box and the lewd cries of men who found lovely Lei where smuggled weapons should have been. He didn’t know the language, but Marc knew the tone in those voices. When he heard Lei cry out in protest, he wheeled and lunged at the swarthy man who had his hands on her breasts.
“Leave her alone.” Marc barreled into the handful of men around the standing, but weaving girl. Strong arms grabbed Marc and held him. The circle of men laughed as he struggled against them while their comrade eyed the girl. A large bearded man moved in to stroke the girl’s dirty, but smooth cheek.
“Don’t touch her.” Marc yelled again.
Lei slapped the man’s hand. Angered and humiliated in front of the others, the bully quickly grabbed her wrists and spun her around so her back pressed against his chest. Her eyes wide with fear, Lei struggled. He gyrated against her while the others joked with words Marc couldn’t translate but still understood.
With his free hand, the bully reached down to the front of his pants.
“No!” Marc screamed against the violation of Lei. The college student who had trusted him to get her safely back to the United States and the man she loved. Jerking free from the men who held him, Marc charged Lei’s attacker like the Wabash Cannonball. Half the other man’s size, Marc’s momentum carried him headfirst into the brute’s kidney. Off balance, the target toppled off balance, and the two sprawled on the unyielding ground where Marc battered the man’s temple in hopes of evening the odds against his superior strength.
A thunderous boot to his ribs sent Marc rolling in the dust. He looked up just in time to see the rifle before the butt crashed against his head.
Chapter Two of Secrecy Order
“Yala, yala,” demanded a man’s voice from somewhere nearby. “What have you found?”
Marc groaned and rubbed his head. He winced when his fingers found a large goose egg that had risen along the side of his face.
“These two crates do not carry the weapons.” A heavily accented voice gave the report. “Instead, we found these two stowaways.”
For the second time, muscled arms grabbed Marc and jerked him to his feet. His head pounded and his vision swam. Squinting, Marc searched for Lei. The man with the lustful eyes that Marc had charged held her arms, but she appeared unmolested. Marc sagged with relief and turned his attention on the newcomer who stood in front of him.
Younger than Marc, this olive-skinned man wore clothing like the Bedouins around him, only cleaner. Intelligent eyes regarded Marc though his words addressed the others. “So you decided to rape the girl and then see who these people are and what they can tell you about your missing weapons?”
The others shifted uncomfortably.
“Bachir,” the man ordered. “Release her.”
“But …”
The newcomer spit empty sunflower shells on the bigger man’s shoes. With a look, he silenced the opposition. “Where will she go, my friend? Can she outrun your jeeps in this desert? Even your surefooted donkey?”
Released, Lei adjusted her clothes and came to Marc’s side.
“Forgive us,” the man said, “for not extending traditional desert hospitality to our guests.” His words generated hurried movement among several men. “I am Adi.”
Marc shook off the unwanted grip of his captors. “Marc. And this is Lei.”
A breeze blew from behind them and Adi wrinkled his nose. “You have been in these shipments for a while?”
“We are sorely in need of washing.” Marc brushed at his shirt.
“Come.” Adi turned and led the way.
Following their long-legged host, Marc eyed their surroundings. They were on a hillside overshadowed by higher hills fringing a canyon. Below, the rocky terrain flowed into a wide, dry wadi bed. Two donkeys, a camel, a rust-fringed Mitsubishi truck, and a dusty jeep were parked in the shadow of the hill they were making their way down. The threesome followed a shallow horizontal groove carved into the thirsty hillside. Gradually angling down, the man-made depression disappeared under the base of a rock-lined well.
Perched on the edge of the well, Adi tossed a bucket into the water below. Hand over hand, he pulled the rope that brought the filled container back to the top. Balancing the bucket on the rim, he removed the fabric tied about his head. He strained the water through his scarf into the trough of hewn rock that sat beside the well. Three times he repeated this process. With a wave of his hand, he indicated they should help themselves.
Marc put a hand on Lei’s shoulder. “Go ahead.”
Her cheeks still aflame, she bent to splash water on her face and he saw she trembled. Adi noticed too, and moved several paces away to allow them some privacy.
“I’m sorry.” Marc spoke quietly. “Are you all right?”
She threw another handful of water on her face to camouflage the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “Apes.”
“Ugly apes.”
Lei splashed water across her arms, rubbed her hands, and sat heavily on the well where she breathed deeply. Marc washed his own face, neck, and arms, grimacing when the water stung the wound on the side of his face. Noting the hole in his shirt earned during their escape, he cleaned the dried blood that had caked around his shoulder wound.
Adi approached and they followed him to a colorful carpet someone had spread nearby. He motioned for them to sit. Their host sat cross-leg across from them. Dishes of hummus, flat bread, cheese, olives, and oranges were set between the three, along with bottled water and hot Turkish coffee. Eagerly, Marc and Lei dug into the food.
“Who are you and why are you here?” Adi waited with his question until they had finished eating.
Marc took a long drink of water. “I’d like to ask you the same thing.”
Adi regarded them, his expression kind compared to the first men they had encountered. “What is that between you and me? Since you are enjoying my hospitality, I invite you to answer first.”
