by Kaylea Cross
“It was The Jackal.”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “Everyone knows it’s true.”
Zaid mentally rolled his eyes. Seriously? That’s the best the kid could come up with in terms of evidence? Zaid had half a mind to pull over right there and throw him out on his ass.
“Why would he want to kill such a high-profile victim? He was the chief of the special police,” Jaliya said.
“Because he was working with The Jackal. And The Jackal was afraid he would talk.”
Whoa. Zaid met Jaliya’s eyes in the mirror for a moment before she focused back on Barakat. Prentiss would only be picking up words and phrases from the conversation at most, but he would be able to tell from her tone that Jaliya wasn’t taking any bullshit.
“You have proof?” Jaliya demanded.
“I overheard a conversation. I recorded it on my phone.” Barakat held it out to her.
She took it. “Who else is working with The Jackal?” she pressed.
“Lots of people. I don’t know how many.”
“How many people in a position of authority are working for him?”
“All of them.”
It confirmed what Zaid already suspected, and what Jaliya must have as well—that The Jackal had his hooks into the majority of officials in Kabul and beyond. It was the only way he could have pulled off smuggling operations on that scale without anyone stopping him. Corruption was rife in this country. It was one of the main factors hampering their efforts at uncovering and locating The Jackal.
“Who is The Jackal, Barakat?” Jaliya’s voice was hard as iron.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I only heard rumors in the last few days.”
“I want names. Whoever you heard about, give me their names.”
A long, tense pause followed. “I don’t know if any of it’s true.”
“I’ll find out whether it is or not. Their names, Barakat. The more you give me, the more I give you in terms of money and protection.”
“Hey, two o’clock,” Prentiss murmured to him.
Before Zaid could answer, a small, beat-up pickup zipped out into the intersection ahead of them and stopped perpendicular to them, blocking the road. Zaid hit the brakes, a warning prickle lifting the hairs on his nape. He glanced in the rearview mirror but there was no one behind them.
Prentiss sat still beside him, his attention riveted to the pickup.
“Barakat, did you tell someone you were meeting me?” Jaliya demanded, her voice stern.
“No, I swear.”
Zaid paid only partial attention to the conversation, half-turning in his seat to look through the rear window. The street behind them was clear and there was no one on the sidewalks. When he looked frontward again the pickup driver had turned the truck to face them head on, and was speeding toward them down the center of the street.
Prentiss was already lifting his M4 from the foot well.
Shit.
Either the kid was lying, or someone had followed him here without Barakat knowing. Either way, Zaid was getting them the hell out of here.
“Hang on,” Zaid muttered, swiveling in his seat to look over his right shoulder as he hit the gas. The engine responded with a throaty roar and shot them backward.
Prentiss peered out the windshield. “He’s gaining on us.”
Zaid didn’t answer, all his concentration on reversing to the nearest exit off this street as fast as possible without getting into a wreck. His boot had the accelerator pinned to the floor. The SUV’s engine screamed as he raced through the darkness, turning the wheel sharply to avoid cars parked along the curb.
“He’s pulling a weapon. Down!” Prentiss barked.
Zaid vaguely saw his teammate reach back to push Jaliya downward, but she was already shoving Barakat flat onto the back seat. Zaid scanned for an exit, but the nearest street to turn onto was still at least forty yards away.
“Shooter,” Prentiss warned.
A heartbeat later bullets pinged off the front end of the armored SUV. Sparks flew, little flashes of light in his peripheral vision.
Dammit…
A round struck the windshield, cracking the glass but not punching through it.
Screw this.
“Hold on tight,” Zaid warned as the upcoming street loomed closer.
A moment later he hit the brakes and wrenched the wheel to the right, swerving them backward in a tight arc onto the cross street. He didn’t have time to shift into drive and pull out to get ahead of the pickup—it was nearly on top of them.
“Want me to take out the driver?” Prentiss asked.
“No.” If it had been just the two of them Zaid would have driven straight at the fucker so Prentiss could smoke him, but he wouldn’t put Jaliya and her informant at further risk. The safest option was to lose the shooter.
Zaid hit the accelerator again, rocketing them backward down the darkened side street. It was narrow, with a crap ton of obstacles in their path. The back bumper smashed into a garbage bin, knocking it flying. He veered left to avoid another vehicle, just as the bright beam of a headlight cut down the alleyway in front of him.
“He’s gonna fire again,” Prentiss said.
Two more bullets struck the windshield.
Jaliya popped her head up, staying out of Zaid’s line of sight as she peered forward between the front seats. “Any other vehicles with them?” Her voice was surprisingly calm.
“Negative,” Prentiss answered, his hands steady on his weapon, no doubt itching to roll down his window and shoot back.
The alleyway opened up into a street. Zaid floored it, hoping to gain some distance on the pickup.
“He’s falling back a little now,” Prentiss said.
Zaid didn’t let up on the gas, kept going until a car pulled out behind them. He slammed on the brakes and veered left, narrowly missing it, and careened up onto the sidewalk. Something else crashed off the back bumper, but now he could see an upcoming street.
As soon as he reached it he swerved backward into it, shifted into Drive and slammed his foot down on the accelerator, hunkering in his seat to see between the cracks in the windshield. The SUV lurched forward in a powerful surge that shot them into the darkness.
Prentiss slung around to look behind them but Jaliya beat him to it. “I got him,” she said, peering out the rear window. “He’s still coming, but you’ve got almost a block on him now.”
Time for some slick evasive maneuvers.
Zaid took a hard right at the next street, the back end sliding on the pavement as he made the turn, then a sharp left two streets after that.
“He missed the turn,” Prentiss said.
Not trusting that the threat was over, Zaid sped through the darkened warren of streets, zig-zagging back and forth in an effort to lose their tail.
“No sign of him now,” Jaliya said thirty seconds later, her voice full of relief.
Zaid wasn’t counting on their hostile welcoming committee giving up so easily. “I’m getting us the hell out of here.”
“Good plan,” Prentiss muttered as Jaliya let out a sigh of relief.
In the rearview mirror Zaid glimpsed Barakat finally sitting up. Jaliya was glaring a hole through the kid, and when she spoke her normally sexy voice was like ice. “We’ll take him with us back to base,” she said to him and Prentiss in English, “and find out whether that welcoming party was meant for him, or for us.”
Chapter Eight
Jaliya’s insides were still buzzing with the aftereffects of adrenaline from that car chase back in Kabul when she finally got Barakat settled in an interrogation room at Bagram seventy minutes later. He claimed he was innocent of any wrongdoing and had nothing to do with the attack, that he’d told no one about their meeting, for fear of reprisal for colluding with the enemy.
She didn’t trust him, but her gut told her he was telling the truth about that at least. He’d been visibly terrified when the shooter had opened up on the
SUV, flinching every time a bullet hit it, cowering flat on the seat with his arms over his head while muttering prayers to himself.
Not exactly the actions of someone who had expected the attack. So someone had either followed him to the meeting, or they’d followed her, Zaid and Prentiss there.
On the hour-long drive here, Barakat had given her another tip her team was investigating right now. Another possible suspect in the frustrating game of Find The Jackal. And another possible location for a large shipment, headed through Kandahar this time.
If, and only if her team could back up the intel about Kandahar, they had to get teams down there to check it out tonight.
When she was a few steps from the main door, David came through it with Colonel Shah and one of his men. “Jaliya.” He seemed to sag a little in relief, then raked a worried gaze over her. “You really okay?”
“We’re all fine.” Thanks to Zaid and his expert driving. She hadn’t had a chance to thank him for it. “I’ve got our young friend waiting for you in the usual room.” She nodded behind her.
His expression hardened. “Good. I’ll see you in the briefing room when we’re done. Everyone’s on the way there.”
“Perfect.” Her blood was up. So much so she barely felt the cold as she exited the building and headed back to her temporary quarters.
She wanted answers. If tonight’s attack was linked to the hotel bombing, then it meant someone wanted her dead. She was going to disappoint them.
“Jaliya.”
At the sound of that familiar, deep voice behind her, she stopped and spun around. Zaid was striding toward her at a rapid pace, probably just having filed a report at the vehicle depot, detailing the sequence of events tonight, and the damage to the SUV.
“Hey.” Her pulse accelerated at the sight of him.
He rushed up to her, his tall form throwing a long shadow over the cold, frozen ground. “Are they questioning him now?”
“Yes. Meanwhile, our teams are being assembled in the briefing room. We’re trying to verify whether his story about Kandahar has any truth in it. If so, you guys are going to have to move fast.”
He nodded and ran an assessing gaze over her face for a moment, then glanced left and right before grasping her hand. “Come with me.” He tugged.
“Where are we going?” she blurted, trailing after him. They had an important meeting to get to.
He didn’t answer, just led her to a shadowy area between two small buildings and crowded her against the wall of one, moving in tight until his body was pressed to hers from chest to pelvis.
The breath backed up in her lungs, and any protest she might have made died in her throat. With him this close and her still revved up from earlier, she craved his touch and the feel of his mouth on hers. Reaffirming that he cared, proving that she was safe. She curved her hands around his thick shoulders and peered up at him in the dimness.
A tiny amount of illumination cast by an overhead light somewhere far to the left lit his profile and glinted off his dark beard, allowing her to see his taut expression and the intense gleam in his eyes. Hunger.
A surge of desire swept through her, sweet and hot, spreading out from where his hips pressed into her lower belly. The thick outline of his erection made her pulse thud and her mouth go dry.
He didn’t say a word and he didn’t need to—the look on his face mirrored everything she was thinking, feeling. They wanted each other, and all the reasons they shouldn’t get involved didn’t mean anything now. She didn’t dare speak for fear of shattering the spell and the heady rush of anticipation that made her skin prickle with a million goose bumps.
Staring into her eyes while the tension between them intensified, his body heat wrapping around her in a sensual cocoon, Zaid raised one big hand to cradle her cheek. The show of tenderness in the face of all that hunger undid her.
“Wait,” she blurted. She couldn’t kiss him again without telling him the truth. It would be wrong otherwise.
He froze and searched her eyes questioningly. “What?”
“It was me you met online. I used my middle name for my profile. Yasmine.”
He stared down at her in bewilderment. “You…?” He seemed at a loss for words, and she didn’t blame him. “Are you serious?”
She nodded and bit her lip, waiting for him to say something else. Praying he wouldn’t be too mad.
Confusion filled his expression, and the spark of anger that ignited in his eyes made her wince inside. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say something before?”
She groped frantically for a way to defuse this. “I didn’t know for sure until we talked this afternoon, and then I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“But you suspected? All this time and you never said anything?”
It sounded really bad, she had to admit. “Yes. And then I felt too awkward to tell you. I’m sorry.” The sorry was important, and she hoped he believed it was sincere.
His brows crashed together in a fierce scowl, her apology doing nothing to neutralize the situation. “Why? Why’d you bail on me like that? I thought we had something real happening.”
God, her reasoning sounded so stupid now. “We did. Then you wrote something and I…jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
“Huh?” He scowled harder. “What did I write?”
She blew out a breath. “That the man should wear the pants in the relationship.”
He stared at her in stunned silence for a moment, then exploded, “I was joking.”
She winced. “I know that now, but I didn’t then. I thought you were like the guys my dad kept trying to push on me. Controlling and conservative and…”
His jaw flexed, the angry gleam in his eye making her want to squirm. “A dick.”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah. But now I know you’re not like that.”
He shook his head and pulled in a deep breath, as though having trouble putting it all together. “So you’re saying I lost the chance of getting together with you months ago because of a misunderstanding over a goddamn joke?”
Okay, he was still mad. Maybe if she apologized again— “Yes. But we’re together now.”
As soon as the words came out she cursed silently. Crap, she hadn’t meant to say that. She was supposed to be distancing herself from him, not giving him the green light to move forward in whatever this…thing happening between them was.
She rushed on. “And I really am sorry about all that. Truly.” She gazed up at him in earnest, hoping he would get over it. She couldn’t bear him being angry with her. Not after everything that had happened.
The anger faded and his expression softened. “Yeah. We’re together now,” he murmured, studying her face intently before settling his gaze on hers once more. “And if you think I’m letting you walk away from me a second time, you’re dead wrong,” he muttered, and brought his mouth down on hers.
Even though she was hoping for the kiss, the bolt of hunger that shot through her took her completely off guard. Her knees wobbled, her entire body melting until only the wall at her back and Zaid at her front held her upright.
He wasn’t gentle. And she didn’t want him to be.
As though driven by a need to claim her, reassure himself that they were both whole and alive after the attack, he plunged his tongue between her lips, taking total possession of her mouth. She didn’t resist, needing that same reassurance, because it was Zaid. The man who made her feel safe, who made her heart and body sing.
Strong hands curved over her shoulders and slid down her back, learning her shape, pulling her closer so that all her curves were melded with the hard planes of his body. Jaliya moaned into his mouth as sensation splintered through her, every nerve ending exploding to life, her nipples hard and aching, wetness forming between her thighs.
Even in her relative inexperience she recognized this for what it was: a claim being staked. If she’d been clear-headed and enacting her original plan to keep her distance, that possessiveness would have
made her bristle. Instead it made her melt, and there was no way she could think with the feel and taste of him making her mind go blank of everything but the deep, pulsing need inside her.
Desperate for more of him, she clung to the hard planes of his back and shoulders as she stroked her tongue against his, letting herself get lost in him, in this moment. He made it way too easy to forget the rest of the world. To forget that they had only a short time left together, and how much it would hurt when he left.
When he broke the kiss to stare down at her a minute later, one hand cupping her nape, she was dizzy and weak, her body on fire as she gasped for breath. All she could think about was finding a private room where she could peel his clothes off and explore that hard, powerful body with her hands and mouth.
Holy crap.
Breathing hard, her heart knocking against her ribs, she playfully narrowed her eyes at him and tried to dial back the hunger roaring through her. “Still not sleeping with you.” The words were too breathless to be convincing, but she still felt the need to say them. Just so he didn’t think she was caving on her principles.
His teeth flashed white in the dimness as he grinned. “Glad you’re sticking to your guns. But I’m still gonna do everything in my power to change your mind on that.”
She huffed out a weak laugh, both relieved and disappointed when he released her and stepped back. Clearing her throat, she reached up to make sure her hijab was still in place for the meeting they had to hurry to. Wearing it gained her at least a modicum of respect from the locals.
She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly to calm herself. “Well. That was quite an eventful evening. Thank you for getting us out of there so fast.”
He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”
His words hit a deeply buried part of her that she guarded closely. The truth was, she wouldn’t have felt that safe with anyone else. Even while the bullets had been flying, she’d been scared, but she’d had complete faith in Zaid’s ability to get them clear of the threat. And she’d been right.
When he kept staring at her she flushed and struggled to gather her scattered wits. “Well. We’d better get to the briefing.” They all had more work to do tonight. Finding The Jackal was her team’s number one priority.
