by Fiona Quinn
“This is life or death, not Go Fish.”
“Still, all that happened was we applied science to get you on her team. It worked. But your feelings were not constructed out of thin air. They came from your natural affinity for each other. You fell for each other. That’s happenstance helped along by science and my excellent people skills.”
He moved farther into the room to sit at the table with White. “I’m going to agree with you because, selfishly, that makes me feel better.”
“And she won’t be in your life for much longer. You have the pills.”
“Let’s change the subject.
“All right. If you didn’t put it together, Davidson Range belongs to D-Day’s father. It’s her pop’s safari hangout for when he and his buddies want to do some large animal hunts and to take their mistresses, but we needn’t go through all that. No women who aren’t living there as domestic workers will be there at the time Echo goes in. From London’s descriptions to me, the domestic staff is housed on the opposite side of the compound. They’ll be at a safe distance.”
White pulled out a map and laid it across the table.
Ty scooted his chair closer beside her, leaning over to take in the terrain.
“The photos you supplied and the video tour from London’s interior designer were helpful. Though, obviously not enough information. It was still a good step forward. You arrive on site Saturday. You’ll have a little over twenty-four hours to gather all the information you think will serve your unit. Most importantly, we need to know where Omar is sleeping. The Davison group will arrive on Sunday in time for cocktails. Kira will host the evening. You’re there in the guise of bodyguard, correct?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good because your ideas for filling the roles of photographer or translator won’t get you the tour with their head guy of security. We anticipate the strike Monday night, depending on the decisions made by Echo and Foxtrot. You won’t be there. Monday morning, you’re back in the air. When you get on the plane, you will already have sent off your reports to your Delta Force brothers. The jet is off to Dar es Salaam for refueling and then a return flight home. Everyone will stay on the plane during refueling. It’s part of the agreement with the Tanzanian interior department, and it’s because of the dogs and possible Western foods and flowers. A twenty-four-hour trip, and you’re back to the States. I’ll send you a thumbs up when the Unit successfully bags our guy. No message with it. It’s just a courtesy until you get to the Echo hot wash to talk through the mission.”
“Who’s on the plane?”
“You, Rory, Kira, Princess Beatrice.” She dipped her head while amusement twitched her lips, “London and Archie, the pilots.”
Ty tipped his head. “Archie?”
“London’s infant.”
“Wait.” He leaned forward. “There’s going to be an infant involved in this scenario? Kira mentioned London had a new baby, but I didn’t think she’d be bringing him along with her.” Ty’s posture became rigid; kids in harm’s way set his system on fire.
“No, the baby won’t even be on the same continent. You’re flying out before the attack.” White looked him in the eye and waited for the answer to sink in. “After you leave, the when of the operation is the commander’s to figure out. I’m just the intelligence.”
“Smartypants?”
“Ha!” she said with a grin, obviously liking the label. “So Archie was born in April, that makes him somewhere around three months old. Expect a screaming infant to interrupt your sleep.” She paused. “Is Rory okay around babies? I really should have asked that earlier, though we can always handle that differently at that juncture.”
“Rory tends toward the macho. He has identified women and children, especially babies, as his to guard once he thinks they’re part of his pack. If they’re not part of the pack, he ignores them.”
“What happens to make Rory think they’re part of the pack?”
“If I hold them.”
“Ah, yes. Well, you’ll have to decide how that best suits the mission.”
“I haven’t said this to you,” Ty said, placing a hand on his heart. “But thank you, sincerely, for giving Echo this opportunity. Man, I’d love it to be me with Omar in my crosshairs.”
“Put it out of your mind. That’s not going to happen.” She paused and waited to catch his eye. “Look, I’ve read through your files. I know who this guy is to you. I know that you were the operator in the tent with Storm. I liked her—a lot. When I was new in the field, I got an opportunity to be on a team with her. She was fantastic.”
“Still is.” He felt his hackles start to rise.
“I’m sorry. I said that poorly. What I want to say is that I understand you want to be the one to pull the trigger. But—and Ty, this really is a major but—you fit a need. You’re the right pick for this leg of the mission. As a matter of fact, your doing this well means the difference between getting our mark or not. The CIA has been trying for nearly a decade to line up our sights with this guy’s forehead. I want this. I’ve been laying the groundwork for this mission for two years. This is my shot. I planned this out meticulously within my power. I’ve come to the end of my capacity to help and have to live vicariously through the Unit. But that’s par for the course with my assignments. Now you get a taste of the flavor of my work. Not being there to see it through can be frustrating. We can do this—you and I. You. Mostly you.”
“No pressure.”
“Oh, you’re not afraid of a little pressure. I have faith in you.” She turned her attention back to the map. “The interesting thing here, as you can see, is that, once you’re there, you’re there. The national borders hem movement in this way. The water hems you in this way. The refuge, which has very strong laws about entering, is in this direction.”
“Are there lions and things?”
White reached over to her computer, pulled up a list, and read them off. “Indigenous wildlife includes vervet monkeys, sitatunga, bushbuck antelopes, and genets. Chimpanzees, elephants, giraffes, black-and-white colobus monkeys, and African grey parrots. Sounds lovely.” She stopped and smiled. “If only you had time to go on safari.”
“I’m on my own safari. I’m hunting a trophy.”
White put her finger on the map. “Not that you need this information, but I’d like you to see that once Omar is at the Range, he’s trapped. The escape would have to happen along this single road out. If he were escaping overland, the kinds of wildlife that he might encounter could be deadly. There are a couple of small day sailboats at the dock here for a water escape. But I assume that would be a last-ditch scenario.”
“There’s no motorboat?”
“Not according to Foxtrot. There are hippos in the shallow waters and crocodiles.
“Huh. Yeah. That wouldn’t be a good exfil.”
“Besides the sharp teeth, there are other dangers to keep someone away from the water. Omar would catch diseases if he got in there: diarrhea, cholera, dysentery, typhoid, polio bilharzia. To be clear, I don’t care what takes Omar out, us or nature. It’s all good. You’re up to date on all your shots?”
“I don’t know. What shots?”
“Knowing the Army, you have them all. You’re a K9 handler, so you’ve had your rabies vaccines. That’s good. Just, if anything bites you, try to identify it. And we’ll get you dosed up. There’s a long list of deadly vipers in the area. Just do what you can with identification. Best if you can take a photo.”
“Wonderful.”
“I’m told Foxtrot has antivenom with them. Let’s not let it get to that because you could blow your cover and the op if Foxtrot needs to swoop in and save your ass.”
“Let me just take some notes.” He picked up his pen and scribbled on his notepad: Try not to get bitten by the deadly snakes.
White circled her finger on the map. “I want you aware, you’re kind of trapped within the walls of the compound, so I’d keep track of that pilot, make sure he’s healthy,
happy, and has a good rapport with you. I’m trying to find out more about him to give you areas of interest that you share and maybe a special treat that you could offer—cigars or scotch… I told you how gifts work to create a debt. I haven’t discovered anything useful yet.”
“Yes, ma’am. Weather?”
“Clear skies. Low wind.” She popped her eyebrows at him to say that she’d learned about the parachuting adventure when they stole the Russian helicopter. “Daily high temperatures are around 71°F, lows around 56°F. I have your wardrobe packed. I’ve added some fleece.”
“No sticky notes this time?”
“I think you can figure it out. Once you get there, the wooing is over. You’re in combat prep mode.”
“What are Tanzania’s threat levels?”
“I put together a risk matrix for you. I’ve emailed that to you, but as a general rule of thumb, there are always the risks of violent crime and crimes of opportunity in the populated areas. Terrorist groups continue plotting possible attacks in Tanzania. The State Department tells tourists that terrorists may attack with little or no warning, targeting embassies, police stations, mosques, and other places frequented by Westerners. We’re watching some unrest that’s been bubbling up along the border, where the leadership vacuum created by Momo Bourhan’s death has escalated clashes between various Islamic radical groups. Foxtrot hasn’t seen anything on the ground that is a specific cause for alarm. Also, members of the LGBTQI community have been targeted for harassment and arrest. And oddly, those detained under suspicion of same-sex copulating could be subject to forced anal examinations.”
“Is anyone in our party from the LGBTQI community?”
“Your pilot is transgender. He/him.”
“Noted. All right. That pilot is our way out, so I’ll keep close tabs. And this section on the map. You said that’s carefully watched.”
“Watched with high-power guns. No one is allowed in this area without permission. They’ll assume you’re a poacher if they see you. Though, if you were going to be here with London for a few days, she would definitely take you here. It’s one of her favorite spots. Coffee?” White stood up and moved toward his kitchen area.
“You can drink caffeine this late?”
“I don’t have a clock that tells me it’s late. I have a clock that tells me my work isn’t done.” She ran the tap to fill the carafe. “For example, London Davidson’s eight hours ahead, and she likes to chat in her afternoon, which is middle of the night for me. She’s tired. Her nanny’s taken some sick leave, and London doesn’t trust others with the male heir. So for the first time, she’s taking care of her infant all by herself.”
“I see.”
“She’s also sad because she loves the preserve because of the orphaned elephant calves. She goes over and feeds them their bottles and her quick turnaround time negates that. She has to be in D.C. to plan Christen’s celebration thingy. And she’s not feeling warm and fuzzy about that. Expect her to be a little passive-aggressive. She is normally, to some extent, but this series of events has turned up the heat on this particular coping mechanism. I know that’s one of the things that you dislike, So that’s your warning.”
Ty pointed at the map. “What’s going on in this space over here?”
“The other preserve to the east of the Davidson’s Range is called Rubondo. It’s on that island out in the lake, and you don’t want the party to go there even if, for some reason, it’s suggested. It could mess up our mission trajectory by some unforeseen accident. This group’s last meeting was broken up when Christen shot her brother Karl. I applauded that outcome. But on this mission, we don’t want to miss our opportunity because of crocodiles.”
“And hungry hippos.”
“Right. Keep track of Rory. He’s the one I’m most concerned about.”
“And Omar shouldn’t expect help from the people in the area because they’ll think he’s a poacher and kill him.”
“Omar shouldn’t run in that direction. But again, if he’s mistaken for a poacher and the rangers shoot him dead? I’m fine with that. Though I’d really like to interrogate him, then watch him sit in his max prison solitary cell. Not your worry. You’ll be flying in to protect the lady, so she doesn’t feel distressed. You’ll recon and send the info to Echo. It’s on them to figure that all out. London comes in with the party of her husband’s associates. She gives them a welcome dinner, one more sleep, then the eight of you—two dogs, a baby, a pilot, a co-pilot, two women, and you fly to Dar al Salaam. Flying back to the U.S., you tell Kira nice knowing you, you’ve been called out on deployment, shake hands, and move on from her.”
As if Ty ever could.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ty
Kira was staring hard at her phone. Her face had gone still. Holding her brows high and rigid, the blood had drained from her cheeks. She looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, paralyzed by what she was seeing.
Ty pretended not to be aware.
She laid the phone on the seat next to her then said, “excuse me,” as she made her way down the aisle to the back of the jet.
They had taxied out onto the runway in Spain where they’d stopped for refueling. The pilot said he was just waiting for the all-clear, and they’d be in the air on their next leg to Tanzania. They had brought a third pilot along, so they could swap out and grab some shut-eye over their long flight. One of the co-pilots was waiting for them to get into the air, then he was headed toward the bedroom to take a nap.
Kira slid past him on her way to the bathroom.
With a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, Ty reached for the phone, where he read the text.
London: I know who it is! I happened to be walking by William’s office and overheard a conversation William had with Nadir. The guy is called Omar. I haven’t met him, but he’ll be at the Range. Kira, because I love you, I’m sharing this with you even though it would probably make William very angry with me if he found out I did this. Make sure to erase this text immediately. And when you meet Omar, you can’t show any reaction. At least this way, you can get to see him without having to act like his intended. I found a picture of him. He’s the one on the right. The guy on the left is an English oil friend of Karl’s. That guy isn’t involved with our event. Remember shhhhhh. I’m trusting you.
Beneath the text was a picture of none other than Omar Mohamed Imadi.
Intended. Shit.
Rage roiled Ty’s blood.
Obviously, if London had to identify which man it was in the picture, Kira had never met the guy. Surely with her INFJ extrasensory intuition, when Kira did meet him, she’d know that her uncle had set her up for a horrific future.
Ty had been right. Kira was heading to Qatar, where her family would arrange a marriage for her. He’d met wonderful families where that was how the couple came together. Heck, look at Kira and him. That’s precisely what they were, an arrangement. The goal wasn’t marriage, but someone who knew them both, with careful planning and meticulous intervention, had brought Kira and Ty together.
But Omar.
White had said that Kira’s uncle was the money and brains behind many corrupt events that impacted the world market. Nadir had been one of the orchestrators of the helium crisis last year that put computer manufacturing as well as MRIs and other medical equipment at risk.
Shrewd and without a moral compass, Nadir still could have held his family as sacred and protected them.
Nadir had to know who Omar was.
He had to know what a sick, twisted, dangerous son-of-a-bitch Omar was.
And he was offering Omar his niece?
Ty felt physically ill.
He vowed he’d never let Kira get trapped in a marriage with a vicious terrorist no matter what else happened.
Echo had this. Kira would be safe.
Underneath that, a voice in the back of his awareness added, she’s mine. But Ty distracted himself from those thoughts.
The fu
ture part of this equation didn’t matter right now.
The goal was the same: capture or kill. Move forward.
Ty placed the phone back precisely the way he found it.
Kira came back a moment later. Ty didn’t think he could handle the sadness he read in her eyes. He’d hold her and comfort her, but the crew would see, and they worked for William Davidson. He would do nothing to mess up this operation.
The pilot announced they were ready to take off.
Sitting down in her seat, tugging her safety belt into place, Kira gathered her hair and pulled it to one side. She leaned back in the padded leather chair, closing her eyes until the plane had reached elevation and had straightened out.
Once the pilot announced they were free to move about the cabin, Kira pulled her file box around, opened it, and extracted a photograph file.
“What are those?” Ty asked.
“The guests. On each of the guestroom doors, there’s a picture frame for the occupant.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It helps the drunk guests get back to the right room.”
“I see.”
“It also helps the house staff. If a guy with a mustache brushes by a staff member and says, I need fresh towels, the staff member can get that taken care of without memorizing all the guests’ names and corresponding rooms. It’s a trick that the designer came up with, and it seems to work well.”
She pulled off a sticky note from Omar’s room and exchanged it with one for another man whom Ty didn’t recognize.
“Rethinking room assignments? Can I see?”
Kira placed the photographs in Ty’s outstretched hand. As he flipped through, Ty found a picture of himself that Kira had taken outside of the restaurant on their first date. According to the sticky note, his room was next to hers. That made sense from a security point of view. It would be hard to guard her if he was anywhere else. Still, knowing she was on the other side of the wall, and she’d never sleep in his arms again was a stab in the heart.
