Dangerously Hot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#4)

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Dangerously Hot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#4) Page 13

by Harris, Lynn Raye


  Now she could feel her nipples beading as she thought of it, feel goose bumps forming on her flesh. She dropped her arms and wrapped them around herself, hoping to hide her reaction from him. He was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite fathom.

  “I think I’d better take a shower,” she said. She left him sitting there and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and then twisting the lock at the last second, as if he was the one who needed a barrier between them when she was the one who couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the night they’d spent together.

  It was only when she turned around and looked at the shower that she realized she’d forgotten toiletries and fresh clothing. Lucky sagged against the door and let out a frustrated breath.

  It was going to be a long, long mission…

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Today, twenty men. Four women. Same place.

  Abdul Halim lifted his head from the message on his phone and gazed out the window of his high-rise apartment building. His contact was telling him that twenty-four Westerners had arrived today and checked into the Royal Baq Hotel, the place where the government liked to corral the media. It was ostensibly to protect them, but Abdul Halim knew that it was also to control their access. The king and his government preferred to paint a picture of complete and utter control of the situation in Qu’rim when nothing was further from the truth.

  He could see the Royal Baq Hotel’s domes from here. This influx of Westerners was not unexpected, but still he found it prudent to keep a watchful eye on their comings and goings through his contacts at the airport.

  There were more new arrivals in the city than ever these days. Reporters come to stir up the world about the situation in Qu’rim, no doubt. Certainly some of them were CIA and MI6 operatives who were here for other reasons. And then there were the military teams like the ones that had been sent for him so many times before. He did not doubt that the Americans in particular would try again now that he’d seemingly returned to the land of the living.

  But first they had to find him, and that was not going to be easy. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke. He’d spent a lot of time building this life he had now. He was a wealthy Qu’rimi citizen. He had contacts in the government. He provided a service to both sides of the conflict, though he would prefer that part stayed private.

  Yes, it made his goals a little more difficult to achieve, but it enriched his coffers so he could realize his ultimate aims in the end. He was a man with a plan, and he was on the brink of his greatest triumph. Soon the Freedom Force would be the equal of any nuclear power on the planet. They would not dismiss him so easily then.

  Yet he still worried about the tiniest things. He picked up his phone again and hit redial. His brother answered.

  “Any news?”

  Farouk blew out a breath that no doubt contained cigarette smoke. Abdul Halim liked a cigarette now and again, but Farouk always had a lit one in his fingers. His brother knew precisely what he meant.

  “Nothing. We’ve let too much time go by. We’re still searching for her near military bases in the US. But so far there’s nothing.”

  Abdul Halim gritted his teeth. It had been three weeks since Farouk had sent word to the network that Lucky Reid had to be found, and yet they’d had no progress.

  He told himself that three weeks was nothing to worry about. He had bigger things to concentrate on here. Bigger goals. He could not spend his time worrying about the slim possibility that the United States government was somehow using Lucky Reid to find him. She’d seen his face once, briefly, and she’d been in a lot of pain when she had. Besides, he was careful not to be photographed, ever. There were no pictures of him circulating in a file, nothing anyone could set in front of her and ask her to find him.

  He needed to stop obsessing over this and move on to other things. Indeed, it was time for a diversion in Baq. Something to occupy the Qu’rimi government and their supporters. The populace—and the reporters—needed something new to worry about. And he needed something to look forward to.

  “Keep looking.” He did not like loose ends. “And inform the faithful it is time for Baq to feel our presence.”

  ***

  Everyone was in country and checked in by 2100 local time. The guys ranged around the room Kev shared with Lucky, all looking relaxed but on edge in a way that only a special operations team could be.

  Matt had decided after a perimeter check that this room would do for their meetings. They couldn’t meet often, not the full group, but the first night was crucial as they confirmed plans and discussed findings. Several of the guys had gone out that afternoon, ostensibly to see the sights but really to check the city’s defenses. Baq wasn’t an especially large city, but it was packed with military equipment and personnel.

  The king was scared and with good reason. The situation in Qu’rim was rapidly deteriorating—as evidenced by the bullet holes in those buildings earlier—hence the reason they’d moved up the go date on this op. Kev only hoped the situation would hold out while they searched for their needle in the haystack.

  Another team had been sent to the desert to help with security at the mine. It was all very hush-hush, but surely it was a move the Freedom Force would expect. This mission, however, was something he hoped they never considered possible. Sending the only person in the world who could identify their leader into a war zone with a counterterrorism force at her back bordered on insanity at the best of times. At the worst of times, well, he had no idea how to quantify it.

  It was just fucking psychotic. And maybe that’s why it would work. If Al Ahmad didn’t see it coming, then maybe they had a chance.

  “I’ve made contact with the embassy,” Matt said. “Lucky and Kev will go over there tomorrow so Lucky can apply for a teaching job through the embassy. She’ll be assigned to a girls’ school near the palace where intel indicates that Al Ahmad’s daughter goes. The school is very exclusive and small, so every student there will attend the same classes. There’s already one English teacher, but she’s about to be reassigned.”

  Kev glanced at Lucky. She was frowning, and he knew she was thinking about the teacher who would be moved simply so she could get into place. It couldn’t be helped, though. They needed whatever access they could get, and this was the way it worked. The teacher would get another job—and maybe she’d get her old job back when they were gone, assuming the country hadn’t disintegrated into all-out civil war by then.

  “The hotel is being watched,” Knight Rider said. “Not that we didn’t expect that.”

  “Two different groups, we think,” Iceman added. “Obviously, the Qu’rimi military is watching. As for the other group… could be the Freedom Force, or it could be the Opposition.”

  “We need to assume those are one and the same at this point,” Kev added.

  Matt nodded. “Agreed. We have no idea what information they’re sharing, but if Al Ahmad is behind the rebellion—and all the indicators say he is—he’s got his fingers in the hierarchy.”

  “Do we have any idea how old his daughter is yet?” Lucky asked. She’d been quiet the entire meeting so far.

  Matt looked over at her. “Unfortunately, no.”

  “You guys aren’t making this easy.”

  “They’re still sifting the data back home, but so far we’ve got nothing else, chère.”

  Kev frowned at the way Matt hesitated for a moment before he went back to the briefing. It could just be that he felt badly about not being able to give Lucky more information, or it could be that he knew something he wasn’t sharing.

  Whatever the case, Kev’s senses went on high alert. They talked for a few more minutes, everyone reporting in on his findings, and then they split into twos and threes, going back to their rooms so they could start fresh in the morning. The guys would take short shifts during the night to stay awake and monitor the channels and perimeter for any suspicious activity.

  Kev, of course, didn’t hav
e to participate in that. His sole duty was Lucky. But when he walked Matt to the door, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was sitting on the bed, leaning back against a pillow she’d propped up, her eyes closed.

  “What aren’t you saying, Richie?” he asked as they stepped into the hall.

  Matt looked up and down the corridor before meeting his eyes again. “It’s nothing she needs to know, you understand?”

  His heart thumped. “Yeah.”

  “Her name is on the latest intercepts.” He shrugged. “He’s looking for her, but he doesn’t know she married Marco. They’re still looking for her maiden name.”

  A cold chill snaked through him, turning his spine to ice. “Jesus.”

  “The good thing is they’re looking Stateside.”

  That was a good thing, but just knowing that Al Ahmad was actively searching for her now… it lit a hot fire deep in Kev’s belly that he couldn’t extinguish.

  Matt put a hand on his shoulder. “Go back inside and keep her safe. That’s your job. We’ll be with you all the way, man.”

  Kev went back into the room. Lucky looked up as he shut the door behind him and gave him a little smile. She looked tired. She couldn’t be called pale, not after several months in the Hawaiian sun, but she seemed more sallow than he’d yet seen her. For a minute, he wondered if she’d heard them talking. But that was impossible unless she had supersonic hearing.

  She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and he thought back to when she’d come out of the bathroom earlier, nothing but a towel wrapped around her body, her tanned legs smooth and lean beneath the white cotton. Her hair had been wet then and she’d pushed it back just like that.

  His dick had gone from zero to sixty in about half a second when she’d leaned over her suitcase and the towel had ridden up her thighs. She’d dragged out some clothing before clutching it to her and retreating to the bathroom again. When she’d emerged, she’d been covered from neck to ankle in a long dress that skimmed her curves.

  She was still wearing that dress, and the blue swirling pattern set off the golden undertones of her hair to perfection.

  “You feeling all right?” he asked, shoving away thoughts of her in a towel before he embarrassed himself.

  She wiped her hands along the tops of her thighs. “I’m fine. Just tired. And worried.”

  He walked back to the desk and sat down. Then he rubbed a hand through his hair and yawned. “Yeah, I understand. It’s eleven at night here, and we’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. Why don’t you get ready for bed? We need to start early in the morning.”

  She looked around. “I haven’t wanted to address this before now, but where precisely am I supposed to sleep?”

  “The bed?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And where are you sleeping? They only gave us one bed.”

  Of course he had no intentions of sleeping with her, but to hear her state so baldly that she didn’t want him in the same bed—especially after that explosive couple of hours they’d shared in his townhouse a lifetime ago—rubbed him wrong. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, considering she’d thanked him for the stress relief the morning after, but it bugged him more now than it had then.

  Still, that wasn’t what they were here for. This wasn’t personal. It was a mission and it was critical. He tamped down on his anger and hurt—yeah, he could admit he was hurt—and gave her an even look.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Her eyes widened. “It’s made of tile.”

  “And I’ve slept on worse. Besides, I’m equipped for it.”

  He stood and went to his duffel. When he pulled out a sleeping bag, her jaw dropped.

  “You brought a sleeping bag?”

  “And a first-aid kit, ammo, MREs, and a lot of other things you wouldn’t believe.” He dropped the bag on the floor near the door. “This is a mission, not a spa retreat. If I don’t get the soft bed or the hot-rock massage complete with New Age music and incense, I’ll live.”

  Her expression tightened. “I’m fully aware this isn’t a spa retreat.”

  She rubbed her hands along her arms and her eyebrows drew down as she studied a tile in the floor. Naturally, she made him feel like an asshole. Which he deserved for snapping at her.

  “Poor choice of words. I just meant I’m prepared, same as always.” Some of it he’d brought in and some of it the CIA had made sure the team got once they arrived.

  Kev unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his hips. Lucky was looking at him again but she averted her gaze when his tightie-whities came into view.

  Just as well. If she watched him undress, he’d probably get hard. And then what?

  He walked over and took a pillow from the bed, and then went back and climbed into the sleeping bag. Then he put an arm behind his head and lay there staring up at the plaster ceiling and the whirring fan.

  He very much feared, as she stood and began to pull the covers down on the bed, that this mission would be the death of him. And not for the usual reasons.

  ***

  An explosion jolted Lucky awake and she shot upright in bed, her heart pounding hard as she tried to process what she’d heard. Her gaze slid over to the window to find Kev standing there, his face lit with an orange-and-red glow. Outside, she could hear the blare of sirens and the shouts and screams of people.

  It took her another moment to process that what she’d heard had been a bomb blast. A shudder of horror rolled through her. “What happened?” she asked, though she knew.

  Kev looked her way. “I’m waiting to hear from Iceman or Hawk, but it was a bomb in the city center. There’s no doubt about that. But where and how and why—I’m guessing we don’t know that yet.”

  “It’s the Freedom Force.”

  He came over to the bed and sat down on the edge. “We don’t know for certain. But yeah, this is one of their tactics, and so far the Opposition hasn’t used bombings in the city. But with the pace of the unrest accelerating—it was only a matter of time.” He swore softly. “I’d hoped we’d be gone by the time it started.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d been in a city wracked by bomb blasts—she’d been active duty, and she’d spent time in the Middle East on interpreter duties during Operation Iraqi Freedom—but it certainly didn’t bring back any fond memories.

  She brought her knees up and hugged them. “Do you think he knows we’re here?”

  Kev shook his head. “Us specifically, no. But he knows there’s a price on his head. And he wants to finish this so he can bargain with the Chinese and drive the king’s government out.” He blew out a harsh breath. “And then there’s the possibility that the Opposition has the manpower to escalate things now and it has nothing to do with Al Ahmad. For all we know, he’s fled the region.”

  She thought of that beautiful, evil voice and his latent narcissism and knew it wasn’t true. If he’d returned from the dead and sown the seeds of unrest, he’d want to stay around and see it come to fruition.

  “He’s here. He’s too arrogant to flee when his plans are working. Besides, he escaped death once before, so he’ll feel invincible. The CIA thought they had him, didn’t they? Claimed their sniper put a bullet in his brain and they watched him go down? Well, they obviously didn’t. And Al Ahmad is the kind of man who would stroll through the center of a battalion dressed as a poor beggar just to laugh and say he’d fooled us all.” She shook her head. “He’s here. And he’ll stay unless he feels threatened.”

  Kev was looking at her with his head cocked to the side. She never found out what he might have said because there was a knock at the door. He got up. After a whispered exchange through the crack in the door, he opened it the rest of the way and Iceman walked in. Hawk was with him. They were both winded.

  No one turned on a light. She thought she should find that odd, but considering this group, perhaps not.

  “Bomb in a market stall about a mile away,” Iceman said. “One person killed. No one ha
s claimed responsibility yet, but it seems to have been a warning.”

  “The government’s had a military checkpoint near that market for weeks now. We can be thankful it didn’t go off tomorrow morning during rush hour,” Hawk added. He tapped Iceman on the arm. “Let’s roll, dude. Knight Rider needs us out there.”

  “Thanks for letting us know,” Kev said as he let them out again.

  “We’ll have your back tomorrow,” Hawk said, and then the door closed and they were alone.

  Lucky’s heart was beating hard and fast when Kev came back over to the bed. This was getting real, fast. And it was just a small bomb a mile away. What happened next? She ran her hands over her arms as dread tap-danced down her spine.

  “Are you scared?”

  She met Kev’s gaze. “I’m not thrilled, but I’m not scared.” Yet. She fisted her hands in the covers. “We came here to do a job. We’re going to do it.”

  His teeth flashed in the darkness. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, you want me to slide in next to you and hold you tight or can you manage to go back to sleep on your own?”

  She wanted him to slide in next to her, but not to sleep. The visceral tug in her belly—and lower—had nothing to do with sleep. Lucky bit her lip to keep any sound from escaping. He was teasing her again, trying to make her laugh, but she wished he was serious. Still, she couldn’t show him how pitifully needy she was where he was concerned. She simply couldn’t handle the rejection right now.

  “Go away, Kev,” she said tightly.

  He laughed softly, like it was nothing but a joke. She heard him get into his sleeping bag, and her heart throbbed with regret and frustration. She turned on her side and punched her pillow viciously.

  It would be a long time before she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The city seemed subdued the next morning when Lucky finally dragged herself from bed. Her eyes felt like they had sand in them, and her reflection in the mirror made her groan. The bags under her eyes could qualify as extra luggage today.

 

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