Stand Fast (DEA FAST Series Book 3)

by Kaylea Cross

  Chapter Nine

  “Go get ‘em, tiger,” Zaid murmured as he pulled the door open for her.

  Jaliya shot him a grin and continued past him and Prentiss where they would stand guard outside the hotel dining room doors until she’d finished.

  Their team had returned safe and sound after the op last night, bearing prisoners who had given her team the tip that had led to this hastily arranged meeting. And since FAST Bravo had some downtime this afternoon, Zaid and Prentiss had kindly volunteered to escort her here for this lunch meeting and act as her personal security detail.

  Given the circumstances, she was nervous about it, but having Zaid nearby made her feel safe and bolstered her courage. Her boss had increased her responsibilities and given her more operational latitude over the past few weeks, because he’d said she’d earned it.

  She was determined to prove he’d made the right decision. She was going to uncover the identity of The Jackal if it was the last thing she did, and cut off a major stream of revenue for terror groups in the region.

  While she did that, it was nice to know she had two men she trusted watching her back outside the hotel dining room.

  So resolved, she strode into the posh restaurant with her head held high and the need for vindication burning inside her. With the special police chief’s murder in Kabul last night her team’s list of possible suspects involved with The Jackal had led her next to this man, a local politician.

  In the interest of time efficiency, David was meeting with another suspect, a wealthy businessman whose office was only a few blocks from here. They were going to meet up and discuss their findings after they finished their individual appointments.

  While Jaliya didn’t dare to hope that the man she was about to meet might actually be her elusive quarry, she had enough evidence to at least link him to The Jackal. He absolutely knew something important about their target. Whether or not she could pry it out of him was another matter.

  She spotted him seated at a table over in the corner, a tall, slim man dressed in a dark suit. She headed straight over. “Thank you for seeing me,” she told him in English, pasting on a smile as she approached his table.

  He rose from his chair, his dark brown gaze raking over her long-sleeve sweater and cargo pants in stark disapproval before he also put on a smile. “It is my pleasure. Please, sit.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

  Her research had shown Mr. Yasin to be a proud, calculating man who surrounded himself with sycophants to constantly stroke his ego, as so many politicians did. He was dirty for sure. Just how dirty, she intended to find out.

  Yasin sat back down and regarded her with a slightly patronizing expression, his thin lips all but disappearing into the neatly-trimmed beard he wore. “So. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?” He folded his hands on top of his menu and waited for her response.

  She’d set up the meeting with his assistant just that morning, so he wouldn’t have had much time to investigate who she was. Commence phase one of ego stroking. “I’ve heard a lot about you since I arrived in Kabul months ago. Because of that, I wanted to meet you in person.”

  He leaned back slightly in his chair and draped an elbow over the back of it in a pose redolent with self-assurance. “Then I’m glad we had this opportunity.” He signaled a waiter over and addressed him by name before looking at her. “Shall I order for both of us?”

  He probably thought he was being intriguing and sophisticated, when all it did was make him look even more like a controlling asshole. “Thank you, yes.” Commence phase two.

  She continued to make small talk with him while they waited for their meals, putting him at ease and making him drop his guard. The whole time they ate, he talked about himself and what he’d done for the city, going on about how everyone else was corrupt and not to be trusted, while he was the shining example and the only man who could bring peace and security back to the city.

  It damn near turned her stomach, but she kept taking bite after bite, nodding when appropriate and making sure to appear she was hanging on his every word.

  As soon as the waiter cleared their plates and brought Yasin a cup of tea, she put her Ms. Nicey-Nice persona away.

  “That was delicious, thank you,” she said, placing her napkin on the tablecloth.

  “You’re most welcome. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

  Phase three. Flatter his ego before dropping the hammer. “I know you’re a busy and important man, so I won’t take up any more of your time than necessary.”

  “Not at all. It’s not often I get to enjoy lunch with such charming company.” An indulgent smile crossed his face and she mentally rolled her eyes at his overinflated sense of self-importance before continuing.

  “I’ll be blunt about my reason for asking you to meet. I wanted to find out what you know about The Jackal.”

  His smile faded, a trace of anger flashing in his dark eyes before he masked it with amusement. “I know the same as what everyone else in Kabul does. Terrible, the things he’s done.”

  “Yes, terrible.” She didn’t trust this man’s word one bit, but she wanted to feel him out before she showed her cards. “I understand your office has made attempts to locate him over the past forty-eight hours.”

  “Of course. It’s my job to ensure the security of my constituents and foreigners such as you who stay in our beautiful city. Any means I have at my disposal to bring someone like him to justice, I will use.”

  Uh huh. She kept her expression impassive and dropped the hammer. “Does that include refusing the donations he has contributed to your office?”

  The amusement bled away, leaving a cold expression that even eight months ago would have put her stomach in knots. But she had a lot more confidence in her abilities now than she had back then. “We received anonymous donations,” he said in a clipped tone. “There is no evidence to support any of it coming from him.”

  Now she gave him an indulgent smile. “Mr. Yasin, please. We both know exactly who it came from, because your office and mine have both traced the funds back to companies linked to The Jackal’s reputed network. I’ve seen the wire transfer records myself.”

  His eyes hardened and his jaw flexed before he answered. “I see you are no ordinary reporter. What agency are you working for?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you understand both your government and mine have been watching you closely. Your office received a donation from that same shell corporation as before after the hotel bombing the other day, and again this morning. Curious, that you should have received another deposit into your business account the day after an important public servant was assassinated.” She cocked her head and eyed him. “Don’t you think?”

  “I think that you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snapped, his cheeks reddening above the line of his beard.

  “No?” She quirked an eyebrow. You’re such a cockwomble.

  “No.”

  “Well. I suppose we’ll just have to leave it to the investigative journalist I spoke with to get to the bottom of it. He seemed incredibly keen to begin work on the story when I met with him this morning.”

  When the color drained from his face, she knew her threat had hit home. He was dirty and now people outside of his corrupt little circle knew it. Once exposed, his credibility in this city—in all of Afghanistan—was shot to shit. And that likely put him square in The Jackal’s crosshairs.

  “Well, thank you for lunch.” She stood and pushed her chair back, satisfaction surging through her veins. “I’m fortunate to be in a position to provide you a certain amount of…protection, should you decide to cooperate in our investigation. If you decide you want to make a deal, your assistant has my contact info. Think about it. ”

  Giving him a tight smile, she grabbed her coat and headed for the door, doing a mental fist pump. That dumbstruck and stricken expression on his face had been priceless. She’d bet a year’s salar
y that he’d call and ask for a deal within the next twenty-four hours.

  Already riding high on the wave of her success, the sight of Zaid waiting for her outside the dining room doors made her heart flutter.

  “All done here,” she said.

  He gave her an assessing look before nodding and transitioning back into sentry mode. “Prentiss is bringing up the SUV. I told him we’d meet him at the corner.”

  “Sure.” She followed him outside, her mind churning. Yasin was pretty adept at covering his tracks. She and her team had to be better at uncovering them before he could destroy whatever remaining evidence linked him to The Jackal.

  She and Zaid were a few steps down the sidewalk from the hotel when a familiar voice came from behind her. Jaliya glanced back to see Yasin and his security agent emerging from the lobby onto the front steps. Yasin’s face was dark as a thundercloud, his strides quick and angry as he started down the steps.

  Someone shouted. She stiffened and whipped fully around, caught a glimpse of two men as they burst out of a vehicle in front of the hotel, automatic weapons in their hands. A ragged gasp locked in her throat.

  Yasin froze on the steps. His bodyguard reached back to shove him to the ground and reached for his weapon, but it was too late. The gunmen opened fire.

  Strong arms grabbed her around the shoulders and yanked her sideways as the bullets flew. She bit back a cry and braced for impact, but Zaid twisted them and managed to get a hand up to cradle the back of her head before it could bounce off the concrete. They hit the sidewalk together and he rolled on top of her, covering her with his body as they hid behind the flimsy cover of a bench.

  Screams and shots filled the air. She made out the sound of pistols returning fire and the automatic weapons stopped. Tires squealed. Then an eerie silence took over.

  Her heart thudded in her ears and her lungs were tight. After a few moments of quiet Zaid lifted his head to glance behind her. “Don’t move from here until I tell you to,” he muttered, and rolled off her to crouch behind the bench, drawing his weapon.

  Jaliya rolled to her stomach and peered beneath the bottom of the bench, uncaring about her scrapes and bruises. Yasin and his bodyguard lay sprawled on their backs on the hotel steps, their blood running in crimson rivulets down the treads. People were racing out of the hotel to help them. One of the gunmen lay dead on his side on the sidewalk, his weapon still in his hands.

  She swallowed, shock rolling through her in a dark wave. The Jackal? Had he known about the meeting? Had he or his men followed her here?

  Beside her, Zaid was already on his phone to Prentiss. “Meet us one block north.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, reached out to grab her under the arms and hauled her to her feet. “Let’s go.” His tone brooked no argument and she had none anyway.

  Her mind was in a fog as she jogged behind him, his hand locked securely around hers as he led her alongside the hotel to the street behind it, and turned left. They’d just assassinated Yasin in broad daylight, in plain view of no fewer than a dozen witnesses. Would they have killed her too if Zaid hadn’t tackled her?

  Cold seeped into her bones. If she’d been a few seconds slower, she and Zaid might be lying in their own blood on those steps right now too.

  Barely aware of moving, she blinked as the SUV suddenly appeared before them at the end of the alley. Prentiss brought the vehicle to a rocking stop.

  Zaid ripped open the back door before shoving her into it. He was right behind her, sliding into the back seat before slamming the door shut. Prentiss took off, speeding them away from the scene.

  Jaliya gripped the door handle and tried to steady herself. I’m okay. I’m fine. Zaid’s okay too.

  “You get a good look at them?” Prentiss asked.

  “A good enough look,” Zaid responded, looking all around them as his teammate drove. “Two gunmen and a driver. Driver and one of the shooters got away.”

  “Get the plate?”

  “No.” He was so calm. But she wasn’t. Not inside, at least. Inside, she was shaky as hell.

  Zaid reached for her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. She was cold, her breathing slightly choppy. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  She met his gaze and nodded. “I’m okay.”

  No she wasn’t. She was shaken, but putting on the best brave front she could. And she was too smart not to realize that her involvement in this investigation might have just put her square in The Jackal’s crosshairs. She might even have been one of the intended targets back there.

  “We’ll get you back to base real soon,” Zaid murmured, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

  She nodded, still not trusting her voice.

  Her hands were clammy, her lips stiff. What she wouldn’t give to feel Zaid’s strong arms around her right now. If they’d been alone she would have crawled right into his lap and burrowed into him, because then she’d feel truly safe.

  Squeezing his hand once instead in silent thanks, she let out a slow breath and turned to stare out through the windshield. “So he definitely wasn’t The Jackal.” She hadn’t thought Yasin was, but now yet another lead had been violently eliminated—this one right in front of her.

  “No.”

  She clenched her jaw tight and took a deep breath. Zaid was still holding her hand tight. She didn’t plan to let go until she had to. “Well. I guess the good news is, our list is one suspect shorter now.”

  Two lead suspects killed within the space of a few days. There had to be a leak somewhere. But where? They had to completely lock down the flow of information to try and isolate the source within the taskforce, reducing their group to only U.S. personnel and a few select others they trusted.

  Now it was a race against the clock to find the leak before someone else wound up dead.

  Chapter Ten

  Jaliya paused outside the door to the team rec room that night as the sound of male banter came from inside, and questioned her decision about coming here. She’d dragged a male analyst from her team with her just in case, even though she had tons of work waiting for her on her desk. She should have stayed in her makeshift office here on base and attempted to make a dent in the paperwork instead of doing this.

  But after witnessing the assassination earlier, she hadn’t been strong enough to stay away. The part of her that ached to be close to Zaid again had compelled her to come, even if she’d only be able to interact with him in a non-intimate way. Seeing him but not being able to touch him would be torture, but not seeing him at all was unbearable.

  “Are we…going in?” Her analyst prompted, sounding confused.

  “Yes.” Raising her hand to knock, she jumped back when the plywood door suddenly swung open.

  A big man wearing an AC/DC shirt and jeans stood there, blinking at her. Agent Logan Granger. His reddish-brown beard made him look like a Viking, or maybe a Highland warrior.

  He seemed surprised to see her standing there, whether because he hadn’t known she was coming, or because she wasn’t wearing her hijab. “Hey. Are you guys…here for game night?”

  She flashed him a smile. “And pie. If that’s all right. Agent Khan invited me earlier.”

  “No, yeah, of course. Come on in.” He stepped aside to let her pass. “I was just on my way to grab some munchies. I’ll grab some pie if I see any.”

  Once inside the room, Jaliya scanned it and felt totally out of place. The entire FAST Bravo team was there, minus their commander, and a couple other guys she recognized as SOF operators from around the base.

  She was the only female here. That was…awkward.

  She got a few curious glances but the room was so full she couldn’t see Zaid. Damn, she should have brought a female analyst with her. This place all but reeked of testosterone.

  Then, over in the far corner of the room where a long table had been set up, she finally spotted Zaid. He looked up and caught her eye, then stood, and the smile he gave her made her heart swoon.

  “Hey,
you made it,” he called out over the noise, causing all his teammates to look over at her.

  “I did.” Probably a mistake, but no point dwelling on it now, and she felt better just being able to see him.

  He waved her and her colleague over. “Come on, I saved you a seat.” He patted the back of one between him and Prentiss.

  “I’m gonna go grab something to drink,” her colleague said.

  “Sure.” Even though a large part of her wanted to turn around and head right back through the door, she walked over and sat down between Zaid and Prentiss.

  “How’s it going?” Prentiss muttered as he raised his coffee mug to his lips.

  “Good.” Still a little rattled by the shooting whenever she thought about it, though. “You guys got the whole night off?”

  “So far,” Zaid answered. “Can I get you anything? I’m betting you haven’t eaten. Granger just went to grab snacks.”

  “Yes, I just saw him as I came in. I’m okay, thank you. Maybe some tea, if you have some?” She’d kill for a cup of Earl Grey.

  His slow smile heated her insides. “So very British. I can find you an iced tea. Will that work?”

  She barely kept her horror from showing. “Sure.” She loathed the icky sweet bottled American version, but she just couldn’t force herself to drink any more water today, and even a fake, sugary form of tea was better than coffee. Vile stuff.

  “Okay, hang tight.” He walked off, leaving her with Prentiss and six of the other FAST Bravo guys as they gathered around the table.

  “So, Rabani. Sure you’re up for this?” Hamilton asked as he pulled in his chair, his dark gray eyes filled with mischief. All the guys were in jeans and T-shirts rather than the usual tactical stuff she normally saw them in.

  “I’m not sure. What are we playing?” If it was strip poker, she was outta here.

  “Our own version of Taboo. Ever played the regular one?”

  “A long time ago.” Growing up, her family used to play games together in the evenings and on weekends. She missed it, and being over here for so long made her miss them all the more. It had been over a year since she’d been back home to Michigan.