by Alta Hensley
Her father gave his own smile. “He sends his regrets. Some last minute business came up that needed his personal attention.”
The evening continued as every other business meeting did. Casual talk with hidden words hinting at the true purpose of the gathering. Adira had realized long ago that her attending these functions as her father’s guest was simply to disguise the meeting as a casual dinner between friends. It was never the case, however, and the conversation always became hushed in tones, blanketed in code words, and at times, laced with warning and threats. And just like every other time, Adira would focus on her surroundings and take in the marine life innocently swimming by. She’d watch schools of large angel fish swim within inches of the shark and again wonder at the dichotomy of their coexistence. Sometimes she would watch the diners and make up stories in her head about their lives and what brought them to Dubai. Regardless of what she would do, she had performed this dance more times than she could count, and had mastered every step, every dip, every twirl in order to pass the time.
Tonight did seem a bit different, however. The Russians appeared more stressed than other business guests her father had entertained, even awkward. The security detail also seemed to be more on edge, as if they sensed something. The air in the room almost sizzled with tension. From where, she couldn’t exactly pin point. But her gut screamed at her to listen, and although she tried to obey, everything on the surface appeared to be the status quo. Her father was his normal calm and charming self, but something did seem unusual in the way he watched these men. Despite his words, his smiles, she realized he didn’t care for them at all. She could see it in his eyes.
Even glancing around the room, it seemed like more people watched than just the odd curious tourist. Her skin felt tingly, as if an electric eel had touched the glass behind her, sending a faint current through the pane to caress her skin. It felt as if her every move was being studied. Taking the time to look at each and every table in the restaurant, her eyes eventually locked on a man who sat in the shadows with another, and instead of heat from an imagined source, chills ran down her spine. Where had she seen that man before? She couldn’t quite make out all of his features due to how the dim lighting of the room obscured her view, but something… there was something about him that she recognized. The Atlantis Palm Resort rarely had regulars—unless you counted the Nazars—so the fact that Adira felt she recognized a man, any man, scared her. She looked at her father, hoping he would pick up on her discomfort, but his attention was directed fully on the men at the table. Still alarmed, Adira looked over at the man in the shadows again and was surprised to find him and his table mate no longer there.
“Adira? Adira?”
When she felt her father’s hand on her arm, she snapped out of her deep thoughts and found the entire table looking at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was watching… the shark over there. He seems to always pull my attention toward his direction,” she tried to explain.
“I was just telling them that the yacht was the perfect place for your party tomorrow as the very name honors you,” her father said, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his wine.
She nodded as she wiped her sweaty palms on her lap. “Yes, my father named the yacht Adira.”
“Lovely name,” one man complimented.
“Yes, Adira is a beautiful name,” her father boasted. “It means mighty and strong. Just like my daughter.”
Swallowing back the lump in the back of her throat, Adira didn’t feel particularly mighty or strong at the moment. Forcing a smile in appreciation of her father’s praise, she decided her fear was all over nothing. Surely security would have noticed if something was wrong, or if they were being watched or followed. Many attempts had been made on their lives before, and never once had security failed them. She had to maintain her faith that they would always keep her and her family safe.
Chapter 3
The car came to a stop and the Steeles waited until their traveling companions exited before following.
“Isn’t this just incredible?” Julie Jenkins asked, practically bouncing as she clung to her husband’s arm.
The young couple had introduced themselves on the shuttle from the JBR as the Jenkins, newlyweds from New York. They were on their honeymoon financed by his success on Wall Street. Drake had accepted the stockbroker’s business card and wished them the best while Maddox wished the husband, Robert—but call me Bob—had taken the time to do a bit of basic research on the culture of the country they were visiting. Mrs. Jenkins was wearing a skin tight sheath that clung to her every curve, thin spaghetti straps barely managing to hold the bodice from falling to reveal a very generous décolletage. The hem came to rest several inches above her knees. Hell, there was more fabric in the towel he’d used to dry off after his shower than was on this young woman’s body. Still, he managed to hold his tongue until she stood on her tiptoes to press her lips against Bob’s, whose hand dropped to cup a well-rounded ass cheek just as an employee beckoned for the couple to walk towards the waiting helicopter, his expression turning downright chilly with disapproval.
Any public displays of affection were severely frowned upon even in this supposedly tolerant city. Maddox knew the chances of ever seeing the couple again were slim but he sure as shit didn’t want to turn on the news and discover they’d not be sharing a conjugal bed for months.
When his father pointed out the window, drawing Julie’s interest, Maddox leaned forward to address Bob. “Your wife is a beautiful woman and it would be a shame to see that changed. You aren’t in Kansas—”
“We’re from New York,” Bob interrupted.
Maddox bit back a sigh. “If you want to get back to the Big Apple, I highly recommend you stop in the gift shop once we land and purchase your wife a present. Say a nice scarf that she could use as a shawl?”
“Why? As you said, Julie is a beauty and I like to show her off. Besides, we’re not Arabs.”
Good God, really? For some hotshot broker, the guy had about as much common sense as a horny teenager. “Do you have a phone?”
Bob nodded and pulled out the latest iPhone, passing it over. It took less than a minute for Maddox to pull up Google and a list of travel tips that any fool should have looked at before deciding to honeymoon in a middle-eastern country. Finding the story about a British couple who had been all over the news… the pair imprisoned for a month for nothing more than simply giving what would be considered anywhere else in the world as nothing more than a chaste kiss in public, he passed the phone back to Bob.
Maddox sat back as the rotors began to turn and the helicopter lifted from its pad. It seemed a bit ridiculous, as the ride out to the island would be short, their destination having been visible from the moment they’d arrived at the helipad. Still, Dubai was a city known for its extravagance, drawing the rich and famous from every corner of the world despite the laws that just waited beneath the surface, threatening to entrap uneducated idiots like the Jenkins. Within minutes, they were landing on top of the resort and a very different bride exited the helicopter. Julie even refused the hand offered to help her disembark, the newlyweds hurrying away without a single glance at the Steeles.
“What did you say to him?” Drake asked.
“Just showed the fool how to use his phone for more than checking the stock market.”
“For a hard ass, you sure have some tender moments,” Drake teased.
“You’ve taught us that a man takes care of what is his,” Maddox said as they exited the elevator after it had dropped them beneath the sea. Thick panes of glass formed the walls, the abundant sea life filling his vision had him sighing. “What are the chances there’s a nice thick steak in this joint?”
“I recall also teaching you to how to figure the odds, so you tell me,” Drake said as they stepped towards the maître d.
“Fish it is,” Maddox said, ignoring his father’s chuckle as he followed him to a table tucked in a corner. He knew part of his father’s bant
er was to relieve the intensity of their discussion less than an hour earlier. Though Maddox now understood the seriousness of their true agenda, he compartmentalized the information, filing it away for now. There were still a great deal of details to collect and analyze and that required his full concentration. After placing their order for appetizers, he sat back in his chair, using the dim lighting to shield him as he slowly scanned the crowded restaurant.
Every person at every table was scrutinized, most easily dismissed as nothing more than diners enjoying a very expensive evening out. However, the very air of the room seemed to stir as what could only be considered an entourage stood at the entrance, dark eyes doing their own scanning before stepping into the room and dispersing around it. Maddox knew that most of the room’s occupants wouldn’t notice, their attention being on the incredible, ever changing sea life that darted about behind the glass as they searched for Nemo. He tuned out the oohs and ahhs uttered as a large shark swam into view, its gills fluttering, its tail slowly moving back and forth. There were far more dangerous land sharks, and he had a feeling he was in the presence of several.
After a moment, he saw Fadil Nazar enter the doorway, a young woman at his side. Standing behind, their very coloring in sharp contrast with their Arab host, stood several blond men, one being the man Maddox had seen at the auction. His eyes followed the group across the room and watched as they were escorted to their table. The woman was the sole female in the group which, in itself, was a bit odd and yet he instantly recognized her. Adira Nazar, Fadil’s daughter and obvious hostess at this evening’s dinner. Not only did he recognize her from the photo his father had pulled up on the internet, he realized that his earlier claim had been correct. This woman could stand among a hundred, covered from head to toe, and yet those eyes were the same ones he’d seen briefly turned his way, the tilt of her head as she uttered a laugh from the back of a magnificent stallion at the exact same angle it was now as she slid into her chair.
A tray of oysters artfully arranged on a bed of crushed ice and seaweed was placed before him. Picking up a wedge of lemon and squirting it over the shellfish, he lifted one to his mouth, his actions mimicked by his father. While he ate another, he noticed the woman wasn’t even looking at the menu or her guests. Instead, she appeared to be staring at the glass wall. Surely she’d been here before, and yet they’d finished the dozen oysters before she seemed to give a small nod and relax a bit into her chair. Interesting, and yet he wasn’t sure exactly why. There was just something about her that seemed to draw him in… her eyes had been wide, her gaze unblinking… reminding him of the many deer he’d seen stepping out onto the roads in Texas and suddenly becoming frozen by the oncoming headlights of his truck. Seeing the shark turning to traverse back the way it had come, he grinned. It could be that Adira was a bit afraid of the fact that she and dozens of others were basically buried under tons of water, relying on engineering to keep the walls from cracking, turning the diners into dinner.
“You gotta admit it’s a beauty.”
“Yes, she is,” Maddox said, turning his attention away from the Nazars’ table.
Drake chuckled, tapping his knife against the rim of his son’s plate, causing Maddox to drop his eyes to the food. An entire fish, head to tail, sat on a bed of rice, steam pouring from thin slits sliced into its skin. “And the fish ain’t bad looking either,” Drake said, cutting into his entrée, the aroma instantly wafting up to tantalize a diner with its exotic spices.
Maddox, feeling a bit unsettled that the waiter had approached without him even noticing, took his first bite. Hell, it might not be steak, but he had to admit the chef had a magical touch. The baked sea bream was tender and flaky, each bite offering the perfect balance of spice, only improved when dipped in the accompanying garlic aioli. The men ate in comfortable silence, speaking only to compliment the food or thank a waiter for his attentiveness in refilling their glasses. After enjoying an elaborate concoction of chocolate and raspberries, liberally sprinkled with flakes of gold leaf to make the astronomical price seem worthwhile, Drake lifted his eyes to find Adira staring at him. Her eyes were no longer like those of a frightened doe, instead, her head was again tilted slightly, her gaze intense as if she were attempting to solve a puzzle. Though he knew most Arab women would remain respectfully silent during what had to be a business meeting, he wasn’t about to take the chance that Adira might make a comment about the man seated across the restaurant. Tucking his napkin beneath the rim of his plate, he said, “I’ll meet you on the roof.”
Taking a path that would keep him in the shadows, his lips twitched when his eyes settled on the Jenkins. Evidently Bob had taken—if not his, his trusty iPhone’s—information seriously, as Julie’s blonde hair was now not only covered by a dark brown pashmina shawl, but a hand clutched the edges closed at her breasts, ensuring not a single glance of her ample endowment would reveal an inch of bare skin.
Drake opened the hotel safe and removed a laptop and the bug zapper. As his son took the computer to the table in their suite, Drake flipped a switch on the small box, moving slowly about the room. Though they’d swept for any electronic equipment, or “bugs” after returning from the auction, before they’d uttered a single word about the reason for being in Dubai, Drake would sweep again, neither man willing to take a chance that their room hadn’t had uninvited visitors in their absence. While his dad finished his circuit, Maddox pulled off his belt and unhooked the large gold buckle. It was a bit ostentatious but even that served a purpose. People might ask about the design and congratulate him on his success of the rodeo circuit, but so far, no one had ever suspected that it served a far more important role. Slipping a tiny disc from the miniature camera hidden in the design, he placed it next to the one his father had handed over that had been in his lapel pin. A third disc that had been concealed in the band of Maddox’s Stetson joined the pile. Opening a port in his laptop, he waited until Drake gave him a thumbs up before inserting the first disc.
While they waited for the pictures they’d taken throughout the day to upload, Maddox exchanging one disc for another, they sipped from cups of coffee they’d ordered from room service. When the bar at the bottom of his screen scrolled to the right, he ejected the last disc, nodding at his father.
Drake pulled out his phone and dialed. It was almost midnight and though there was a nine-hour time difference between Dubai and Texas, he knew his call wouldn’t be awakening anyone on the ranch.
“Hey, good to hear from you,” the man on the other end greeted.
“Good to hear your voice, son,” Drake said. “Grab your brother. Maddox has some information he needs to send.”
“Sure, give me a minute,” Anson Steele said. It was more like five before his voice again came over the line. “What’s up?”
“We’re sending over a file. We need you to identify the men in the photos.”
“Men, not stallions?” This voice belonged to Stryder, the youngest Steele brother. “So you were right? That invitation was for more than the auction?”
“Yes,” Drake said with a sigh. “We’re about to launch the biggest operation we’ve ever attempted. Seems like Hadi Nazar had a different agenda than his son. It will take all of us to pull this off… if it can be pulled off at all.”
“I’m ready, shoot them over.” Though Anson’s tone was unconcerned, Maddox knew his brother would be at the computer, accepting the files, ready to run each photo through facial recognition software. Pressing a button, he sent the file, and while his father filled them in on the recent events, he could picture both his younger brothers thousands of miles away. They would have stepped behind a concealed door and walked down a tunnel before entering what the family called their operations center. The room wasn’t located in any part of the ranch house… it was part of a natural cavern system within the Chisos Mountains.
He again thought about the debt his father was repaying. Though aware of his father’s voice as he talked to his sons, Maddox slip
ped back in time until he was a twelve-year-old boy on the cusp of becoming a teenager. His world changed a month before he reached that milestone in his life. It had only been by the grace of God and the intervention of a certain faction that had allowed both he and his father time to escape the fire that took the lives of his mother, his little sister, and the two agents tasked with the responsibility of protecting their family.
That day had set him on a path that skirted the edge of legality. Yes, the Steele family bred stallions but, like the Nazars, beneath the surface, they ran a completely different operation. For two decades, first solely his father and then joined by his sons, provided a service for clients the government would at the very least frown upon and, at the most, arrest. Their clients were powerful, wealthy, and yes, corrupt. They would never be considered angels. Though the Steeles did have a line in the sand none would cross, they didn’t give a damn what your nationality was, what religion you practiced, or what business you were in. But they firmly believed that innocents should not be forced to pay with their lives for the sins of their fathers. That day had taught him that the only people he could truly rely on were his family—all sharing in the love of horses and willingly accepting the burden of providing what their own government failed to do. Protection for those drawn into the world without their knowledge or consensual choice.
A sharp whistle drew his attention back to the present. “Since when are the Russians into horses?” Anson asked.
“They’re not,” Maddox said. “But they are in Dubai and must be brokering some sort of deal with Fadil Nazar. Got any names yet?”
“Just one, Vasily Poplov. His picture is here several times. Standing next to that Brit snob, Legeaux, and again in some aquarium. I’m not getting any hits on the others yet. I’ll have to hack my way into additional sites and that might take a while.”
