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“This might not just be about money. I think you already suspect that.”
He held his surprise back. He hadn’t expected that; it was an idea he and Adam had only briefly touched on.
“Adam told you.”
She shook her head. “Tara is the heart of your family. Without her, it’s broken.”
She was bang on and he wished she wasn’t for it changed everything, including his decision to send her home.
“These could be men with a grudge against the House of Al-Nassar. After all, your family has a long and deep history in Morocco. Someone has more than likely been hurt along the way. What better opportunity than a chance to bring you down by taking the sister you and your brothers adore and bleeding you for some cash.” She shrugged. “Simplistic, I know, but not improbable.”
“Don’t make me sorry,” he said, hoping that by not escorting her back to the plane he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
“There’s no time to waste,” K.J. said, swinging around and striding ahead of him. She didn’t stop talking and her comments trailed behind her.
With no choice but to follow, he did, even as his eyes drifted downward and he found, in spite of the situation, that he couldn’t take his eyes off the endless length of her legs, which were enticing despite the fact they were covered by faded, beige-cotton pants. That and the generous curve of a hip only confirmed that in no way could she be mistaken for the man he had only minutes ago hoped she was. He pulled his gaze away. He was engaging in exactly the kind of behavior he abhorred and the behavior his sister, Tara, would have berated him for. No playful calls of “it’s a guy thing” would ever quiet her criticisms and attempts to get him and his brothers to toe the line. But all of those looks and comments in regard to the opposite sex, at least in Tara’s presence, had only been made in jest, brotherly teasing of a sister they all adored.
“The first twenty-four hours are critical,” K.J. said over her shoulder, as if telling him something he didn’t know. She stopped, pivoted on one heel and faced him with more determination on her face than he’d seen on anyone in a long time. “You know that time is a luxury you don’t have and I’m a problem you didn’t factor. That’s why you’re angry, and I don’t blame you.”
The admission and her logical, calm attitude in the face of what he knew had been insulting, even contentious words, surprised him.
“Whether you want me or not, I’m here. There’s no time to get a replacement and I have knowledge you don’t have and objectivity that you desperately need. I believe that’s why you made the call to bring me here. Am I right?”
“What do you know about the Middle East other than your studies?” The words revealed all the disdain and upset he was feeling. “What experience do you have?” Her education meant nothing. It wasn’t experience and therefore, to him, not real. “You grew up—” He was going to say in Midwestern America; the truth was in the way she said certain words.
“Morocco.” She cut him off and he guessed she was being deliberately vague. He could hear the edge in her voice.
“Really?” he said and didn’t soften the sarcasm that laced the word.
“Really,” she repeated and turned to face him. “At least, a few years anyway. Six years total—as a child and then a number of years in my last years of high school.” She seemed to draw herself taller. “My father was an economic counselor in the American Embassy in Rabat. A few years later he returned, accepting another position in the Moroccan Embassy.” She eyed him with a challenge in her eyes. “Are you done?”
His jaw tightened. She was right, there was nothing more to say.
“Good,” she said and began to walk away then stopped. “By the way. Call me Kate.” She threw that over her shoulder as if it were an afterthought. “One phone call?”
“So far.”
She stopped.
“So the call came in shortly before 4:00 a.m.?”
“Correct. I alerted Adam immediately and got a plan in place. Apparently that was a mistake.”
His phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it for just a split second as dread roiled through him.
“Yeah?” he snapped and then his hand stilled as his pulse seemed to speed up. He couldn’t believe their audacity and knew it didn’t bode well for them to have contacted him twice in such a short period. They weren’t following a normal pattern. “You’ve been paid, release...”
Kate shook her head, mouthing something at him. He didn’t know what it was, didn’t care. He needed to focus on this, on what the kidnappers wanted and on how to get his sister out of their clutches.
“Put him off,” she mouthed.
He gave her a brief nod. It wasn’t anything he didn’t know but at least it was confirmation they were on the same page. “I can’t get it together right away.”
The call ended shortly after and somehow during that brief time he and K.J. had formed a shaky alliance. “This time they want a quarter million,” he said to her. It was double what they had first asked for and it was nothing in the scope of what his family was worth.
“By when?”
“Forty-eight hours or they’ll kill her. There was no drop information.”
“This is their second request and you paid them once.”
He stopped, surprised, and then realized that Adam would have told her.
“You negotiated with them successfully.” She nodded approval. “That’s promising. I suspect they’re a fragmented group but, even so, they’re testing your limits, prodding you, making you more vulnerable by not giving you the drop site, making you worry.”
“Making me react emotionally.”
She nodded, as if his response were normal. “The next contact should give us a drop. They have their initial demand, still I doubt if they’ll chance playing it out any longer. And that call? They were tormenting you—nothing more.”
He thought of what he had done in those first desperate hours when he’d heard his sister was missing and what his first thought had been to do now, but there’d been no drop site and Kate was right. She knew her stuff. It was clear in her perception and instant analysis of what had transpired in the short time in which they had been together.
“Surprised?” she asked with a smile that was more a lifting of her lips as no emotion showed in her beautiful yet deadly, intelligent eyes. “Small. Unorganized.” She wiped a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail from her face. “Not so much unorganized as brought together temporarily for a common goal. What I mean is...”
“This isn’t what they do regularly. They have no cause.”
“Exactly. I would say that they’re rough men needing money. Colleagues of some sort...”
“And none of that matters.”
“All of it matters. We need their profile to get in their heads, find out who they are, to ultimately find Tara and get her out safely.”
She was right and he didn’t want to admit it. Yet he was beginning to believe that, despite his doubts, what she had in her head, the profiling ability she spoke of, would be invaluable in finding Tara.
“Satisfied?”
He nodded, his mouth set. “But you do what I say, especially if this takes us, like I suspect, into the desert.”
“Thanks,” she said pertly, an edge to her voice.
He had no idea if that was a yes or a no. The only thing he was certain of was that she was staying.
“Let’s get going,” she said briskly. “I need to be briefed on everything that’s happened since you last spoke to Adam and anything you might not have told him.” She looked at him with eyes that seemed to rip through the protective layers that shielded his emotion from the world. “I need everything.”
But as she said those words they emerged into the crowded main area of the airport and nothing was said as they made their way past a queue of passengers dressed in everything from blue jeans to sundresses and burkas. The crowd thinned near the doors leading to the outside, where the air was thick with the scent of the heated rubber of airplane tires and exhaust fumes.
The driver had them loaded and they were leaving the airport within minutes, but it was as they exited the airport and a few miles away that chaos erupted.
Chapter Three (#u776862c2-f61c-5978-8ae6-2449639215c3)
“Dell,” Emir said to the driver of his Hummer. He put his hand on his shoulder. “This is K. J. Gelinsky, she’s here to help us get Tara back.” He turned to Kate. “Dell’s a good friend. He’s had my back more times than I can count.” He knew that didn’t explain everything to Kate but it gave her a reason to trust this newcomer.
The big, blond, broad-shouldered man had a grim look that, combined with his size, made most people back away. But despite that, his unsmiling face and rather utilitarian brush cut, there was a warmth about him few people except his close friends ever saw. His distinctive look with his bleached-blond hair was a striking contrast to his swarthy complexion, but no one would dare comment on the look, for Dell’s size intimidated most people. Emir knew Dell could be deadly but he also had a soft spot for women, children and cats. In fact, he’d seen the big man stroke a tabby, murmuring to it like it was a baby.
“K.J.?” Dell asked her as if hinting there should be more to her name than just initials.
“K.J.,” she agreed with an easy smile and a “don’t mess with me” look in her eye.
Emir bet there were few people who called her Kate. It wasn’t anything she had said but rather the way she owned the initials and the odd way she had looked when he’d called her Kate despite her having given him permission. He wondered why she’d allowed him the privilege. Was it merely because he was her boss or...? Whatever the reason, it was irrelevant under the circumstances.
He still had reservations about her. There was no proof of her abilities other than an expertise in martial arts and what Adam had said. Despite that, he had to admit there was something in her demeanor, a confident air, that took the edge off his doubts. She acted like someone who knew the Moroccan culture, exactly as she had claimed, and she moved with the fluid ease of a local, regardless of her foreign look. None of it mattered. The only thing that did was that she could do the job and that, with her, they could bring Tara home.
But something was off. Oddly, it wasn’t doubts about Kate that had him on edge. It was something else and he knew she felt it, too. The ease he had felt radiate from her in the airport and even just now, when she’d met Dell, was gone. Now she was tense, her attention taking in her surroundings.
As he looked at her, a silent communication leaped between them. Yet there was nothing tangible, no action to take, and he didn’t feel comfortable with that. He could see that she was equally as disconcerted. Her brow was furrowed and her hand was on the seat in front of her, the other on the holster of her gun. He suspected that she, too, was considering the possibilities of a threat that might not yet be visible.
He leaned forward.
“What’s going on?”
Dell shook his head. His attention was focused on the road but a tendon in his neck stood out and his grip on the wheel was tighter than required for the driving conditions of a low-traffic road bordering the outskirts of the city. Tension seemed to run through the vehicle. “I don’t like that Rover,” he grumbled. “Don’t ask me why.”
The Land Rover was the only vehicle besides theirs on the road. It was ahead of them, having turned in from a side road only minutes ago. From the moment it had moved in front of them there seemed to be an instinctive reaction by everyone in the Hummer. It was a feeling that was common in the field, one he’d discussed with his brothers and one they had all agreed had validity. Instinct was what many modern men ignored and one in which the Al-Nassar brothers and their associates had committed to never sweeping aside. In fact, it was what had been the difference between success and tragedy on a number of occasions.
Other than the fact that it was moving slowly along the road, there was nothing overtly threatening about the Rover. The back window was tinted and they couldn’t see inside. That fact alone had Emir moving his hand to the shoulder strap beneath his jacket and the reassuring feel of gunmetal.
He looked at Kate. She didn’t look at him, but instead her attention was riveted on the steel-gray Land Rover. Something was off and he didn’t like it.
“Why in Allah’s name are they moving so slow?” Dell asked, his voice troubled.
“Something’s not right.” Kate pulled her Colt from its holster.
“I’m going to pull back,” Dell said as the Land Rover maintained its rather slow speed, as if taunting them to pass.
In the Hummer the tension had just moved into overdrive, everyone poised for a threat that had yet to be determined.
The silence in the Hummer was thick. Emir glanced at Kate. There was no give in her posture and her jawline and lips were tight, her eyes focused ahead, her gun in her hand. Tension seemed to tick between them like a bomb about to explode. His finger twitched. Behind them was a stretch of empty road, but that could change at any moment.
Without warning the Rover stopped and Dell had no choice but to hit the brakes or go around. Without a backward glance to see if they were on board with the decision, Dell put the Hummer in reverse, taking them away from the Land Rover.
Emir’s instinct sent prickles down his spine. None of this made sense. His eyes were fixed on the vehicle ahead of them that was now flipped around so that it blocked the road.
“What the...?” Dell reached for his gun and the driver’s door almost at the same time as their vehicle stopped. “They’re blocking us.”
He had no worries about Dell, who, as a former soldier in the Moroccan military, knew how to not only take care of others but how to take care of himself. It was the guidelines Emir had used to hire many of his security and why it had been such a shock to hear of Tara’s kidnapping. He’d surrounded her with the best.
His hand was on the door handle and his other pulling his gun from its holster when a shot was fired from someone in the Rover. It narrowly missed Dell. They’d been right to suspect trouble, but they hadn’t been quick enough to avoid ambush.
Kate flung her door open almost simultaneously with Emir as he leaped to the ground on the other side, using the door for cover.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her crouch before she jumped to the pavement and fired, taking out the Land Rover’s left rear tire, crippling it.
Emir moved forward, keeping his head down as he used their vehicle for cover. Ahead of them, the passenger door of the Land Rover hung open. He peered over the edge of the hood of the Hummer and saw what looked like a hand, the black metal of a gun gleaming over the door. He fired, one shot and then two, and ducked down.
Silence.
He glanced behind him, mindful of their proximity to the airport. There was the possibility that at any moment innocent travelers could be heading out of the airport and directly into the line of fire. And almost as bad, possibly worse, there could be police. They didn’t need the confusion or the procedures of police involvement complicating the situation and taking valuable time away from the search for Tara. This was their business and no one else’s. He gripped his gun grimly, determined to end this and end it soon. Whoever these renegades were, they were obviously out of sync with what was going on and, more obviously, by the law of coincidence, somehow involved with Tara’s kidnappers.
He took in the scene in front of him, the threat and the results of the threat that still remained. Twenty-five feet ahead and to the left was a body. He dove, taking cover as gunshot sprayed over the pavement. A glare from the passenger side momentarily blinded him as sunlight sparked off the metal of the opposing weapon and confirmed that someone was still alive.
“We want at least one of them alive,” Kate said. She had moved around to his side and behind him. “I’ve counted two. Not giving us good odds,” she muttered, “that we don’t easily kill them both.”
It was the ideal situation but it was also hard to control. The most they could ask for was that he, Kate and Dell came out alive. That was mandatory. Emir refused to accept anything else. He set the bar high when it came to keeping his employees safe.
Another shot was fired. This time it was clear that the weapon was different. It was a handgun. He’d seen the glint of the short barrel and then nothing—a single shot and silence. It was hard to tell how many there were. He wasn’t as sure as Kate that there were only two. No more than three, he suspected, but they were keeping down, out of sight. So far there was no visual, so he couldn’t pinpoint it.
A shot from the passenger side and then another and as he raised his gun. It was obvious that the choice to keep one of their attackers alive might not be theirs to make.
Emir fired and the man’s gun clattered to the pavement, but no body followed. Instead the passenger managed to fling himself into the driver’s seat even as Kate fired again and again. The Land Rover peeled away, veering right then left as the smell of burned rubber and gunpowder knifed through the air before the Rover careened to a stop about four hundred feet away from them. The vehicle listed slightly to the left with one tire flat and its right side jammed against an embankment of dirt and discarded cement.
“Stay here,” Emir said to Kate.
He nodded to Dell. “Cover me.”
But as he came up to the vehicle, there was no movement. The Rover had pitched on its side. The smell of gas permeated the air. Emir moved to the right, away from the driver. Everything was still. He inched along the driver’s side where the man was slumped. Dead, unconscious or feigning—it wasn’t clear. The only thing that was clear was that he wasn’t moving and that, for now, he didn’t pose a threat. Still, one couldn’t be sure. Emir held his gun in one hand and pulled the driver’s door open as he jumped back, both hands on his gun.
Nothing.
He moved forward, jammed the gun in the man’s ribs and took a closer look.
“Dead,” he muttered.
“Bad luck,” Kate said as she came up behind him. “Or not.” She held her handgun in one hand, her other free. “He probably wouldn’t have given you anything, anyway, whether he knew where she was or not. You know that. It was all a long shot,” she said matter-of-factly.
Emir looked at her. He wasn’t surprised that she was there. Somehow, despite his command to stay, he had known she would back him up. In an odd way, it both infuriated and pleased him. The thought ran through his head even as he assessed the truth of what she’d said. It was clear that, somehow, in some way, these men were connected with his sister’s disappearance. Otherwise, none of it made sense. Now it was possible they might never know how they were involved or, more importantly, what they might know.
She moved past him, poking her head into the vehicle, looking at the corpse, her movements quick and decisive as she went through his pockets.
He went up beside her. “Any ID?”
She shook her head.
“We don’t have a lot of time and we don’t want to get caught up in the bureaucracy of airport security.” He looked back to where their vehicle sat and then above, where the roar of an approaching plane reminded them of the nearness of the airport.
Over two hundred feet away the man who had been on the passenger side lay sprawled on the pavement. With no thought to Kate, assuming only that she’d follow, he sprinted back the way they had come, his long legs easily covering the distance between the two vehicles. He heard Kate behind him, her breath coming in short puffs, and whether she could keep up or not—for now, it was not a consideration.
He stopped by the body, bending to get a closer look, but it lay facedown. He turned it over—male, he already knew that, and there was nothing unique about his clothing. The passenger had been thirty or so, and was dressed to blend in, in brown cotton trousers and boots. Like the man they had just killed, his T-shirt was brown, as well, and it, too, had no identifying markings. There was nothing but a slim gold ring on his right hand that might be used to identify him.
Emir eased the corpse down after a quick check of his pockets and gave him a final once-over, this time only with his eyes, looking for clues they might have missed. He stood. He hadn’t expected answers but he had hoped that there would have been something—one clue that might bring him closer to finding Tara.
