by Amy McKinley
“I don’t want to be here,” she’d whispered just loudly enough for me to hear.
My heart hardened as I stared at the girl I was supposed to train. My hands were tied. I couldn’t help her if she needed it. Sweat rolled freely down my back as we baked under the sun. She was tiny with a mass of long, black hair, maybe a year younger than my fifteen years. Pretty. “Then why are you here?”
She shrugged her bony shoulders, her whiskey-colored eyes huge in her face. “We were paying respect to my mother’s family in Ankara, and then… My father says I have to learn to fight. In case…”
So her mother was Turkish. My mind nagged me. Who is her father? In case what? An air of wealth surrounded her—she wore stylish clothes and carried herself in a way that suggested education. Could she mean in case of an attack on her life?
With my peripheral vision, I studied the tall, dark-haired man talking with Jamal, who ran the mercenary group. I took in the way her father stood and how his attention rarely strayed to those of us in training. He carried himself with an aura of importance. I couldn’t get a read on the type of person he was, but it didn’t matter. I was to train his daughter to defend herself and fight back.
Our band of mercenaries traveled between Jamal’s base camps. There was one there, one near Caracas, Venezuela—where we would go in a few months, and a third that I didn’t remember much of. That’s where I’d started. It was in a desert, brutally, scorching hot. I’d lost time there.
My stomach growled. I ignored it. Nothing would come of breaking from training. There were four more boys close to my age, only a few years older, there. They barely kept us fed, except for when we completed the tasks required. Then, there would be a feast. My abs tightened, and I willed the weakness away.
The waif of a girl held her defensive position, as I’d instructed. I focused on that, not what or who her father was or my never-ending hunger. I doubted her father would be any help to me. The faster I got her up to speed, the better. I’d had plans, and they hadn’t concerned her.
Three times, fate had brought us together. It wasn’t a coincidence. With a concentrated effort, I let go of the past and focused on my other objective for Samir in Venezuela. I needed more information and would get it that morning. I pulled out the small tablet I’d brought on the off chance that something went wrong during our mission to rescue the American hostages. It had, but seeing Kara again was almost worth the botched job.
I powered up the tablet and checked the time. The Skype ping sounded at exactly 0900. I accepted the video call, and Samir’s face filled the screen. He looked to be of Venezuelan descent with his brown skin, short, dark hair, and kind brownish-green eyes. After we exchanged greetings, we got down to the business he wanted to hire me for.
I directed the conversation where I needed it to go. “Who is it you want me to rescue?”
The strained smile on Samir’s face fell. “My daughter.”
“Is she with her mother?” I’d had Chris do a background check on him, but I hadn’t had a spare moment to read it yet. I would. Nothing would happen until I got all the information.
“She is. Mostly.” He ran a hand over his face. “We have a nanny who helps out when my wife is away on… business.”
That sounded cagey. “I won’t agree to take this job unless I know everything.” And I wouldn’t take the kid from the mother unless there was a damn good reason.
Samir scrubbed his face with his hands. I couldn’t make out much in the background other than it looked like he was sitting in an office. A knock sounded, and his gaze darted up then softened. He clipped out a response. A half smile curved his lips, directed at whomever had entered, before he returned his attention to me.
“My wife is Kara, and from my understanding, you two have history.” He paused, maybe in hopes that I would respond. “A lot is going on, but the most pressing concern is our daughter. I’m afraid she will be caught in the middle of what’s happening around her.”
Kara has a kid? A daughter. I sucked in a deep breath and forced my heart to return to a steady beat. Out of all the women I’d been with, she was the only one who’d infiltrated my worthless heart. “Why would you want your daughter taken from Kara?”
“Not taken from her.” Samir’s shoulders slumped. “I was on a business trip and called Kara to check in before my flight home. I could hear men’s voices in the background. She was whispering and told me not to return, that it was too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous for who?”
“Me. Kara is privy to information that I’m not regarding her father’s dealings. While I know Kara can take care of herself, I worry our daughter will get caught in the crossfire.”
“What exactly did Kara tell you to make you stay away?” From your daughter. The accusation shouted inside my mind. Anger burned hotly beneath the blank stare I’d perfected over the years.
Samir’s brows furrowed. “The call cut off or she hung up, so I’m not sure. I check in and talk to my daughter every night, but Kara isn’t always there. I think she worries the line is bugged.”
“Wouldn’t you know if Kara was safe? Or your daughter?”
He leveled a stare at me. “Not necessarily. My daughter should be—there is the nanny, Andrea, if Kara isn’t by her side. There is a lot about my wife I understand and respect, including her short stay in the training camp during her youth.”
Interesting. I wonder exactly how much she shared. “I won’t get involved unless Kara is on board.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll need verification from Kara personally. Is there anyone we can or can’t trust in the household?” I knew where the house was, so there was no need to confirm. Lucky for me, I was already in Caracas.
“We trust Andrea, but that’s it. There is one other thing.” Samir looked to the side of the screen.
Someone else was in the room with him, listening. “Who else knows about this?”
He pursed his lips, and a moment passed. “My business associate, David Meyer. I’m here with him in Washington, DC.”
“David Meyer of Meyer Ancestry Labs?” I’d heard of them. They specialized in collecting genetic data. If anything, it was information to file away in case it was important later.
“Kara knows where I am. But her warning not to come home has me very concerned. There are things… Her father, Ahmed, is up to something.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get word to Kara and have her contact you. Then will you agree to help?”
“Most likely, so long as I have confirmation from Kara about extracting the child.”
“I’ll make sure she finds time to speak with you.”
“What can you tell me about Ahmed?”
“I know very little about Kara’s father’s business dealings, other than the ones we are involved in together. Those are more of an investment for him than anything else, and I don’t see how that’s where the threat is coming from. The gray area is when Ahmed involves Kara. Usually, I’m kept in the dark. This time, she was anxious.”
“Worried about what? Which business deal?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t have anything coming up that involves Ahmed, so I’m unsure, and she couldn’t say. Just that it wasn’t safe for me specifically to come back.”
We disconnected the call with an understanding that Samir would get the confirmation from Kara that I needed. If I’d known they were married, I would have asked her myself last night. I wondered why she hadn’t brought it up. I leaned back against the chair. What the hell is going on?
I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around Kara having a kid. Part of me was angry with her, with Samir. He had the only woman I’d ever wanted. They’re a family. I rubbed absently at the ache in my chest.
Kara’s attack was mission-based. I knew not to take it seriously. Contact with her outside of that one-off would be digging a deeper hole and would open the door to the past and invite my team in. I dreaded the remote possibility of that happening.
&nb
sp; I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell them who I was or where I came from. I didn’t want to risk losing the guys who’d become my family. Maybe I wouldn’t have to share everything. I would fill them in on what they needed to know to keep them safe, so that they would have a grasp of the mission I would embark upon alongside the original rescue and recovery.
Something about the timing of Samir contacting me along with the hostage mission nagged me, and I wondered if they were intertwined.
I typed a few things on the tablet, searching for information about Kara and Samir’s wedding. Their presence on the internet was very small, but I got what I wanted.
My finger hovered over the button to connect me with my team. There were a few things I had to share with them. Drumming my fingers on the desk, I ran through how much to tell them, discarding the majority of my past, which shouldn’t have been necessary. With a few taps on the keyboard, I had Jack on the screen.
“Did you locate him?” Jack referred to the missing hostage.
“No, not yet. But I have another development that may be related.”
Hawk moved into the screen’s field too. Good—I would need both of them. I ran my hands through my hair and tugged on the too-long strands before spilling part of my connection with Kara. “Remember that call I took before our meeting with Rich?”
“The one Stella answered?” Hawk leaned forward, his blue-gray eyes bright against the contrast of his brown skin.
“Yeah, that one. I had another meeting with the guy a few minutes ago, and I took the job.”
“We need to finish this one first,” Jack interrupted.
“I think the two may be connected.”
“How so?” Jack’s eyes narrowed.
“The guy’s name is Samir Medina, and he wants me to extract his young daughter from Venezuela and a potentially dangerous household. Before you ask, there’s more. The house is owned by Ahmed Hernandez, who is a political advisor to the Venezuelan president. Ahmed’s daughter, Kara, and her husband live in the same household as the ambassador.”
“How does this relate to the hostage that’s gone missing?”
“Kara is the woman who ambushed the rescue. She was after the same man, or more specifically, what he had on him.”
“Who is she working for?” Jack’s gaze narrowed further.
“Not positive.” Acid churned in my gut. “Possibly her father.”
“How exactly do you know her?” Hawk, normally quiet, zeroed in on the root of the problem.
“Remember that job we did in Afghanistan?” At their nods, I spilled the only part I wanted to share about how Kara and I were acquainted. A flash of long black hair, soft skin, and full lips hijacked my mind until I ruthlessly shoved the images away. “It was right after that when we’d gone to DC to debrief. I ran into Kara in a bar, and we spent the night together.”
Jack tapped a pen against the desk. “How does the husband know about you? Could this be a setup? Was she married at the time?”
“No, it’s not, and she wasn’t married then.” I’d done my research after talking to him. “Shortly after, though. About three months, to be exact.”
“We don’t take kids from their parents unless there is a damn good reason.”
One like our upbringing. Jack hadn’t said it, but by the somberness that fell around us, we were all thinking about it.
“I told Samir that too. He’ll find a way to speak to Kara or record the call so I get confirmation. I know her voice.” Damn well.
“This still doesn’t explain why things are bad in her household. Or why Kara was after our hostage. Who is this woman?” Jack shot Hawk a look before facing the camera once more. “Makes me wonder what the American had from George Hammond’s company.”
I ignored Jack’s question about Kara. I couldn’t go there with him.
“We’ll push back on Rich to learn more,” he said. “You see what you can find out from Samir.”
“The hostage may have been recovered, just not by us.” Hawk aired my concern.
“If I can get Kara and her daughter out of there, I have a feeling we’ll learn a hell of a lot more.”
Jack nodded. “Agree. Hawk and I will be leaving tonight. We’ll reconvene at”—he checked his watch—“oh five hundred.”
I closed down my tablet and stowed it in my pack. What are you involved in, Kara?
6
Keegan
Hot, bitter coffee slid down my throat as I mentally went over the details of our botched rescue mission almost two days ago. Dawn was fast approaching, and in my tiny hotel room, there was little noise from the city street below. With the sunrise, the criminals were mostly back in their holes.
My hand gripped my 9mm at the slight sound of the doorknob turning. I pointed to where the intruder would enter. Jack and Hawk were due to return any second. It should be them, but I would never assume. I’d learned that lesson long ago.
Through the gun’s sight, my gaze trained on the door. It swung open, and Jack and Hawk stood there, guns raised and smirks curving their mouths.
“You guys are idiots.” I lowered my gun and gave up fighting the grin tugging at my lips. Hawk shut the door behind him, and I set my weapon on the table.
Jack eyed my drink. “Got any more of that?”
I nodded to the small carafe I’d made in anticipation of their arrival. We had to strategize. After getting coffee, they sat at the chipped, round table with me.
“How are the men you pulled out?” I needed some good news to offset the shit-show of a mission.
“Battered and dehydrated, but they’ll recover quickly,” Jack answered. “About the missing guy, Henry Adams… We don’t have a visual anywhere, but since Kara is also hunting him, trailing her would be a good place to begin.”
“We’ll start at her father’s home.” I finished the last of my coffee then stood to gear up. It’d be better to head out before the sun was high in the sky.
My phone vibrated from a text. Jack’s and Hawk’s must have, too, as they were looking at their screens. I tapped in the code to unlock my cell and reveal a group text from Chris. An encrypted email was found on George Hammond’s server, from the former partner of GH Envirotech’s Caracas branch to his partner, George, in the States. Chris said he should have the encryption broken within the hour and would continue to search for others. I bet good old George was holding out on us. That pack the missing American had contained something he didn’t want anyone to know about.
“Hopefully, we’ll learn what’s in the bag Henry had.” Hawk said what we were all thinking.
“We’re supposed to hang tight until Chris gets the information from the email,” Jack said.
I was itching to get out there for another glimpse of Kara, even though it was dangerous. Seeing her again had been like imagining a forbidden but desperately desired drink of water while stranded in the desert. I would have given everything to consume that water.
Ambient light spilled through the window as the sun inched higher, and the pressure of our mission, the need for action, increased with each passing minute. The streets were no longer silent and eerie with anticipated malice, as people woke and went about their days.
Jack crossed his arms over his chest, and a speculative gleam lit his hazel eyes.
I prepared for the inquisition that I knew was coming.
“So this woman, the one who attacked you during the rescue, who does she work for?”
I didn’t want to get into it, but I could evade for the time being. It was safer for them if I did. “I already told you who her father is. She probably works for him. Whatever is in that backpack that Henry was so desperate to retrieve must be big. My guess is that’s why Kara was sent to recover it. There must be a political connection to the contents. And her father is one of the advisors to the Venezuelan president.”
Jack appeared to mull over the summary, and I held my tongue. I should tell them, but what good would it do? What I needed over everything else was to get t
hem out of there and away from the Dark Wings’ reach.
The heavy weight of Hawk’s gaze beckoned, and I skimmed his features. We had one thing in common, and I’d given it away that night he’d shared his darkest secrets with the team. By the way he watched me, I knew he remembered my reaction to his father’s betrayal when he offered a trade—Hawk for the debt he owed to save his skin.
I shuttered my expression, effectively locking him out. There would be no good in sharing with them, not about the Dark Wings. I’d been forced to take a vow, and breaking it would bring detrimental consequences to my brothers. Hawk was the quiet one. He wouldn’t call me out. Not now. It would take a lot for him to press me for information because he’d planned to take his history to the grave and probably would have if it wasn’t for his past that had come knocking at our door. I hoped with everything in me that the same wouldn’t happen to me.
“About Kara.” Jack broke into my thoughts. “Why—”
The buzz from our phones stopped him and brought a short reprieve from further questioning. He wouldn’t let the coincidences with Kara go. If I could get Kara and her daughter home, I would have a better shot at keeping everyone safe and separate from Kara, her father, and the Dark Wings.
“Chris got it.” Jack scrubbed his face. “Drone prototypes. The company was making insect-sized surveillance drones for the US in a foreign country. The wording is vague. We aren’t sure if there was anything else to the drones. Regardless, this changes everything.”
That’s what had to have been in the backpack that Henry Adams and Kara were both so intent on possessing.
Hawk tossed his cell on the table and stood. He made his way to the open window and the hot breeze that wafted through it. Noise from the street below carried to the second floor we were on. It was a busy area, useful to get lost in.
I skimmed the message and got the same details. It seemed that George Hammond wasn’t honest in his quest to retrieve his four employees. The email was from Henry Adams, and we could assume he was the next in line behind George’s partner, who had died. Henry wasn’t all that innocent after all.
