A farmhouse.

You and Rihanna slip into the trees and move forward just off the dirt road. Bright prison orange would not usually be the best colour for stealt, but after the water and mud you have encountered in your nightime flight from captivity you clothing is the colour of the nearby local dirt. You sneak forward until you can see where the track leads to. A large and dilapidated looking farmhouse lies ahead. Large and small barns and outbuildings are grouped around the central house. You see no signs of activity.

"Let's get closer." You say to Rihanna. "It's impossible to tell if this place is deserted or just run down from here."

"There are no cars out front." Rihanna points out. "Nor are there any animals in the fields."

"We just came through a big ass storm." You say, thinking aloud. "Could have taken any vehicles or livestock into the barns to keep them safe. If there are vehicles they'd have to be in that big barn. I'll check it out. See if you get a clear view of the windows and see if the place is abandoned."

You split up and you make your way to the edge of the treeline near the barn. Cradling your shotgun you run crouched over to the cover the big wooden barn provides. The main doors of the barn face toward the house so you look around the side and back for another point of entry. Around the back there is a huge amount of split logs piled up against the barn wall. Just above the top of the pile are some shutters that you might be able to prise open.

Scrambling up the woodpile is relatively easy. The shutters are old and loose and it's a simple matter to **** one open. The barn looks empty, so you slide you body through the gap and drop to the packed dirt floor. You crouch with the pump action at the ready as your eyes adjust to the gloom inside the barn. You are in a smaller storeroom at the rear of the barn, antique tools and junk is piled everywhere. You move cautiously to the door and edge it open to look inside the main area of the barn.

The first thing that catches you eye are a number of big motorcycles lined up near the main doors. Looking around further it seems the interior of the barn has been cleared fairly recently as there is not the accumulated junk here as there was in the backroom. Large crates are stacked reasonably neatly in the centre and workbenches are set over by the wall. You move into the barn and check the crates. Each crate is full of cut marijuana, fresh from harvesting. The workbenches have scales and tools ready on the surface.

You go over to the motorbikes, every one is a Harley-Davidson, chopped and customised and recently used. The only thing missing from them that you would expect is the luggage panniers and bedrolls. You count eight bikes.

"Shit!" You swear under your breath.

A distressed female scream comes from outside the front of the barn, immediately followed by the sound of male laughter. There are some gruff masculine shouts, calling out to one another. You run to the main doors and crouch, putting your eye to the crack between the two doors. Big, tough looking, bearded men are in the farmyard grouped around something. A couple of women are also out there and obviously part of the group. Everyone is armed, mostly with pistols and shotguns, but a couple have machetes.

The woman's scream comes again, this time accompanied by a shout in Urdu. You see one man bend down and pull Rihanna up by her hair. The men laugh and begin talking amongst themselves loudly.