Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 Read Online Free Page A

been better than the scenarios I considered Aida would put me through.
     
    *****
     
    As soon as we taxied to the spot where we’d deplane, Eric came forward and removed the bindings on my wrists. My arms ached from the tension I placed on my muscles throughout the flight. I rubbed my arms, wrists and shoulders, which bore the sign of imprisonment. I itched to grab my cellphone out of my large tote, but Eric grabbed it before I could make a desperate call to Matt.
    “We will be going through customs. Do not make any statements or moves to alert the officers of anything. If you do, there will be consequences for you.” Aida stated.
    Eric stepped out of the plane and held out his hand for her. Tony pushed me forward. Eric held out his hand for me to step down and I refused, holding my arms around my waist. The oppressive heat made my pants cling to my skin. My curls tightened and shrunk within minutes while we waited for Tony.
    When Tony exited, he grabbed my arm, tucking it tightly underneath his arm like a romantic couple. The pilots removed luggage from underneath the plane and gave it to a couple of porters. There were four suitcases of various sizes, colors, and patterns.
    We entered the small facility, presenting ourselves to the customs agent. I waited nervously for questions to be directed at me. I saw Eric approach the officer, taking his hand in greeting. I detected an exchange of bills, rolled up to discretely fit in the palm of the agent’s hand. The agent softly curled his hand into a large fist, which he slipped into his trousers. Pushed forward by Tony, the agent commenced his interview.
    “Name?” The agent asked in Spanish.
    “Perla Mercurio?” I answered truthfully. He looked down, and I peered over to see he had a passport in his possession.
    “Date of birth?” He asked, looking up at me. I gave him my birthdate.
    “Purpose of visit?” I looked around, catching the eye of the other officer reviewing the contents of one of the luggage. My tote bag beside it.
    “Vacation.”
    “Did anyone pack your bag or ask you to bring a bag you didn’t pack?” He motioned over to the luggage. My eyes furrowed, and I looked over to see the array of summery clothing contained within. I heard a feminine throat clearing. Despite the fear I may have been transporting contraband and it would be Aida’s way of getting me arrested and convicted of a crime in a third-world country, I answered with a lie.
    “No. I packed it myself.” I stated with my eyes cast downward. The answer must have been satisfactory because the agent zipped and pulled it off the table.
    “Welcome to the Dominican Republic,” he offered with a terse smile.
    The agent handed me the passport. I’d never been to my mother’s home country, and this wasn’t the way I wanted to visit for the first time. I opened the passport to see my picture from my Pentagon security badge. The passport contained all the pertinent information, which accurately reflected my identity. Even my signature appeared inside the laminated page. How they acquired this official document without my participation, I may never know. Eric sidled beside me and subtly removed the passport from my hands. I looked over and watched him place it in his breast pocket. He looked stoically forward while Aida gave her answers.
    Aida responded to the agent in an exaggerated Italian accented Spanish. I rolled my eyes as she flirted with the agent. I looked over at Eric to see how he responded to her coquettish behavior. He watched indifferently, awaiting his turn. I deduced he had no feelings for her. After Tony concluded his interview, Eric answered the questions in Spanish. He tentatively answered in poorly accented Spanish, but he mustered through the light interrogation.
    Along with a couple of porters, who carried the luggage, Tony led us toward the front entrance of the building. Eric stood close beside me as Aida stood next to him. She held onto his arm like a gangly sloth