Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12)
Page 17
Gah! How stupid was she? He couldn’t wrap his mind round that one—that an intelligent, beautiful woman like Tess could fall in love with a cold-blooded terrorist who had no problem shooting down unarmed men and women on the street. How the hell did that work?
“How do you know this Turik guy?” Lee had to know the truth.
“I just told you.” A glint of hurt welled up in her eye. “Mohammed stops in at the orphanage sometimes. I know he’s Taliban, but he’s a good man, Lee. He’s a father. He cares about the children there.”
Lee studied Tess, hoping they’d passed beyond all the subterfuge and lies—that she wasn’t playing him. She’d done it so well before. It was hard to know if she was telling the truth now, and he had to face it. He’d jumped her bones in the heat of passion. He didn’t really know her.
“Lee,” she said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
He turned away, not ready to ask if she was lying because he didn’t want to know the answer. Besides, he didn’t need to understand the human-interest side of the guy who’d tried to kill her. It sure as hell wouldn’t matter the day Lee killed him.
Chapter Fourteen
Tess clung to Lee’s hand as they made their way down to the parking garage. He hadn’t rejected her completely, but she sensed a definite barrier between them. When Alex returned from Lee’s room, Eric and Seth were already there, and they were moving fast. Lee carried his backpack over one shoulder, his rifle in one hand, her hand in the other.
Knowing capable ex-military men had her back provided a small degree of comfort, but the sporadic bursts of automatic gunfire from the hotel and angry shouting from the street meant the battle wasn’t over. Alex still carried the plastic bag with a damp hand towel and some ice. As grouchy as he was, he’d done what she’d asked.
“Sit rep,” Alex demanded as they walked down the basement steps of the hotel and through the garage.
“Maybe fifty to sixty Taliban,” Eric replied. “They’ve got RPGs and are hitting the front of the hotel with all they’ve got. A few of them made it inside, but were repelled. The Army’s pushing back. Marines are already deployed and engaged in hand-to-hand with the enemy.”
They were covered in grime and sweat. Eric and Lee were dressed entirely in tan, from their desert-colored boots and camouflaged pants, to their shirts and baseball caps. Even their T-shirts were the same color. Weapons, too. Right down to their holsters, they were dressed to fade away. Alex, too, was in desert-colored business suit. Only Lee stuck out in relaxed jeans and a western shirt. Blood trickled down the back of his neck again.
“Where we going, Boss?” he asked.
“My place.” The power emanating off this man called Alex startled Tess. He seemed angry, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. He led. His men followed and she with them, the lone woman in a fast-moving group of soldiers with long legs. She had to run to keep up.
The Land Rover was gone from the parking stall next to Lee’s. Alex halted in that empty space and turned on her. “No more games. What the hell aren’t you telling me, Miss Culver?”
Tess stopped in her tracks, surprised at his vehemence and not sure what he meant. All the men faced her. Despite his earlier coolness, Lee clenched her hand in encouragement.
“What?” she asked.
“The Taliban specifically targeted you,” Alex growled. “You’re valuable to them. Why?”
“I might have something Hasim Nizari wants.” She shot a glance Lee’s way, not ready to trust his boss, but not ready to die, either.
“What?” Alex spat the one-word command. “Is that the artifact you two alluded to earlier?”
“Yes. It’s a reliquary,” she replied, suddenly timid and her throat dry.
“A what?” Eric asked.
“What’s a reliquary?” Seth asked.
Lee intervened, stepping between Alex and her. “It’s an ancient artifact that holds—”
“Bones,” Alex hissed. “Relics. Whose?”
She hesitated long and hard before she could form the words. “Roxana’s.”
“Who’s Roxana?” Seth asked.
“Alexander’s Bactrian wife?” Alex replied, a whip of scorn in his tone. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Another siren sounded too close. Heavy trucks rumbled overhead.
“Do you have her body, too? Her son?” Alex asked, his blue eyes like sharpened ice. He’d certainly connected the dots quickly. “Do you have Alexander IV or not?”
Tess nodded, powerless against the fury of the sudden desert storm called Alex. She’d underestimated him. He seemed to know the history of this land quite well.
“Boss, what’s going—?” Lee tried to speak.
“Are they mummified? Desiccated? Cremated? Ashes? What?” Alex didn’t let up.
“Mummies,” she whispered, her confidence shattered.
“You’ve got both Roxana and Alexander IV’s mummified remains? Are you absolutely certain?”
“I believe so, yes,” she admitted, her eyes meeting his despite her trembling. “Monsieur Favreau offered to match the DNA to—”
“That’s why Turik killed him,” Alex snapped. “He’s playing me, the son-of-a-bitch. Where are the mummies now?”
Lee positioned himself more fully between her and Alex before she could answer, but she caught the disbelief rolling off Alex’s tongue. Who’s playing you? Lee still seemed to believe he could help, but she knew different. She was the reason her friends had been murdered. Her arrogance had left a wake of sorrow she’d not seen coming.
“That’s why Turik shot the two curators,” Alex bit out. He didn’t ask. He told. “They helped you steal the reliquary, didn’t they? Turik wants it back. That’s why the Taliban are storming this hotel. They know you’re here. What’d you do, call him?”
“No, I would never,” she whispered as her heart broke all over again for the families her thoughtless actions had hurt. “I wouldn’t endanger you. Musa and Josef only told me Sherazi intended to give the Crown of the Dragon King to Nizari. Josef overheard him setting up the meeting. That’s why I was at the palace last night. I had to steal the crown from Sherazi before it was lost forever. This is my fault. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve put you all in danger. I need to go.”
“How’d you get the reliquary?” Alex bit out.
“Enough!” Lee roared, an angry finger stabbed at Alex. “Lay off, Boss! She didn’t kill those people, damn it. That bastard Turik did. This is his fault, not hers.”
The second Alex stepped forward, Lee’s shoulders squared, and he faced off with his boss. Tess cringed. Lee would fight because of her. Not good.
“And the nuns?” Alex snarled at her despite Lee’s protective stance. “Did you know them, too?”
“They worked at the orphanage,” Lee answered as he clenched her hand and intertwined their fingers behind him. She leaned into his back, hiding from his very intense boss. “Tess worked with them, but they weren’t involved in the heists. None of them were.”
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Alex cursed again. “He’s targeting everyone she knows to get at her. Do you have any idea what that reliquary means?”
She wept. The children had to be next. Poor Mina. Poor Jamaal.
“Leave her alone!” Lee roared. “Of course I know what this means. Turik’s scared shitless that there’s a damned slim possibility one of Alexander’s descendants still lives today. Big deal! Every conqueror from Adam down to Joe Blow spread his seed at every two-bit village and camel dump along the way. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Tess couldn’t speak. She’d turned into the coward she normally wasn’t. The deaths of her friends had sucked the nerve out of her. She’d wrought havoc wherever she went. It had to stop. “I need to leave,” she mumbled, but her voice was lost to a loud boom overhead that shook the concrete garage, sending showers of dust onto the friendly enemy combatants in the parking garage. She clutched Lee’s fingers. “I have to get to the children.”
He tugged her into his arms. Tha
t not-so-gentle reminder they were caught in a fierce battle seemed to calm Alex. “It means three things. The whole world of science and media will jump on the slim possibility that a descendant of Alexander lives today. Hope will once again blossom in this godforsaken country, and lastly...” He stepped around Lee to glare at Tess, “the Taliban will do everything in their power to destroy anyone stupid enough to rally behind the cause. Whoever those unlucky descendants are, they won’t last a day, and neither will your girlfriend. You already know that, don’t you, Miss Culver?”
“I do now,” she murmured, closing her eyes to shut him out. “Just let me go. I have to get to the orphanage. The children...”
A strong hand gripped her forearm. It was Alex. His anger was gone. “Lee’s right, this isn’t your fault, but now we know who Turik’s after and why. Hey, I brought what you asked for.” He handed her the bag of melting ice and the towel. “Are you ready to work with me now?”
She didn’t know whether to cry or—cry. His sudden kindness stuck in her throat. “The orphanage. If he’s killing everyone I know, the orphanage will be next. He knows how much I love Mina and Jamaal. Please. I have to get to them.”
Alex answered with one quick bob of his head. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. The guys and gals from Camp Eggers will protect those kids.” He’d changed in the twinkling of an eye. Stabbing a finger at Lee, he snapped, “You and me need to talk later about what the hell fraternization means.” Then he turned to Eric and Seth. “Go with Lee, and you’d better damned well keep her safe.”
“Yes Boss,” Seth muttered.
Alex pivoted on his heel and scrambled into the Humvee parked behind Lee’s. “Follow me.”
Lee tossed Eric the keys to his Humvee. “You got this?”
“You bet.” Eric caught them handily, trading his rifle as he opened the driver’s door. “Put this where I can reach it. Might still need it.”
Lee secured the weapon next to his seat while Tess set the bag of ice on the floor and fastened her belt, her fingers shaking as the buckle clicked. Seth rode shotgun. An engine roared and tires screeched behind them when Alex took off.
“Hang on,” Eric growled as he gave chase. The darkened windows were up and the air-conditioning on, making their escape from the hotel anonymous and half comfortable. Pulling out of the parking garage driveway, he exited into the back alley, following Alex instead of taking the main road.
“What’s got him so hot under the collar?” Seth asked as the Humvee bounced into traffic.
“Just keep your eyes open and your rifle ready. This might get ugly,” Lee muttered. Leave it to Seth to not comprehend all that just went down.
Tess leaned back into the seat, her world out of balance again and her head spinning. Just last night, she’d been the one to reach out to Lee. She’d been the comforter, and it had been a very good night. Suddenly, they’d traded places. She didn’t know who she was, brave crime fighter or simply a selfish fool who’d gotten everyone she loved murdered.
Her mind drifted to Clint. Where had he gone after he’d handed her over so easily to Lee? That had turned out to be a good thing, but he hadn’t known that then, had he? Was he so deep into drugs that he was helping Mohammed behind her back? The awful thought took her breath. She stared out her window, fighting tears and grief. Every evil thing that had happened circled back to her. Did Clint hate her so bad that he wanted her dead?
Lee’s head tilted toward hers and her body automatically responded, sidling closer. He pulled her into his side; his hand around her ribcage felt intimate and warm. Safe. The last thing she wanted was conversation, but he muttered against her cheek, “I can’t help if you won’t let me, Tess. I’ve come all this way for nothing.”
She caved. Lee was honorable to the core. She decided to trust him, and in doing so, Alex, Eric, and Seth. It was time to stop running.
Eric’s sharp eyes in the rearview mirror winked back at Lee. It didn’t matter who knew now that Alex had already figured it out. Lee cared about Tess. She was more than just a client.
“I didn’t know you had the mummies too,” he murmured into her ear as Eric tried to keep up with Alex’s speeding vehicle.
“I was going to tell you,” Tess whispered back, dashing her hand over her eyes and sniffling. “I got distracted. This whole day’s been… awful.”
Her voice was tight. He’d caught her crying, and she was trying to disguise it. He kissed her forehead, offering the only encouragement he could. He was the one here for her, not Turik. “You doing okay?”
She brushed his question off, reaching for the bag Alex had given her. “Let me take another look at your head.”
He obliged, bending over and leaning closer. “Is it a hole or a slice?” he asked, going for cavalier.
“It looks like something sharp hit it, but nothing is stuck in the wound as far as I can see.” Tess took the damp washcloth and wiped his neck and head, gently dabbing the wound. She ended by pressing a handful of ice into a towel and giving it to Lee to hold to the back of his head. “It doesn’t make sense. That reliquary has been in the museum for years. Why is it so important to the Taliban now?”
“Maybe it has to do with the mummies. Where have they been while the reliquary’s been under lock and key?”
“That must be what happened,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
“What?”
Violet-blues looked up at him through fluttering lashes. “There’s something else.” She gulped, uncertainty shifting across her features. “Monsieur Favreau worked for WAR. I do, too.”
Lee leaned in closer, thinking he’d heard wrong. “What war?”
“No. WAR. It’s an acronym for Worldwide Archeology Rescue. We are a group of concerned archeologists, history buffs, and regular people trying to save the treasures of Afghanistan before the Taliban destroys everything.”
He relaxed. That kind of war was okay. “Which are you? Archeologist or history buff?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m nobody. Monsieur Favreau was the archeologist. He actually worked some of the digs in this part of the world. He visited our orphanage one time. He loved the people of this country, especially the children. After the Buddhas of Bamiyan were destroyed, he was determined that depth of mindless destruction must never happen again. He was a charming man.”
Lee kept one eye on the road and the other on Tess. Alex seemed to be driving through every back alley in Kabul, heading north in a gradual circuitous route. No vehicles appeared to be following, but he’d caught Eric and Seth’s backward glances. All of them remained on high alert. Anything could happen, even away from the war zone they’d just escaped.
“Do you have the mummies or not?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded, biting her lip like she was thinking hard. “At least I know where they are. Jacque took me to see them. Not only have I seen the mummies, but I’ve seen the hands with the missing index fingers, and as I’ve told you, I know where those fingers are.”
“Wait a minute.” Lee stopped her. He’d caught the familiarity in her voice. “Jacque?”
“Yes. Jacque Favreau.” A mischievous twinkle sparkled in her eyes. “The French ambassador. He asked me to go with him into the Hindu Kush, and I said yes. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“How long was this trip?” Lee shook off the stab of irritation that cramped his neck. She thought this guy was charming? How the hell old was this Jacque dude?
“It took seven days. A week.” A sparkle still glinted deep in her eyes. “It was fun. I met a tribe of very interesting people. You would’ve liked them.”
“Would I?” Lee bit his bottom lip a little too hard, doubting he’d have been as enthusiastic as she was.
“Are you jealous?”
“No,” he answered quickly. Hell, yes.
“You’re funny. Monsieur Favreau was very spry and energetic, but he was in his mid-sixties. Hardly my type. Besides, he’s dead now so it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re jealous of a sweet old man who Turik killed?” She had the nerve to argue.
“I am not.” He pulled her into his side despite their seatbelts and changed the subject. Yes, the ambassador was dead, but still. The thought of Tess alone with a Frenchman in the very primitive Hindu Kush for a week irked the shit out of him. “So you’re fairly certain you can make a DNA match?”
“I was,” she mumbled, “but now I’m worried about Jacque’s assistant. Mohammed may be after him, too.”
“What’s his name?”
“Pieter Marchal.”
Lee tapped Seth’s shoulder. “Contact Mother. An assistant to the murdered French ambassador needs protection ASAP. Pieter Marchal. Make it happen.” Seth gave another backward glance before he started punching numbers into his satellite phone.
“Where are the mummies now?” There was no sense asking how young this Pieter guy was. Age didn’t matter when it came to a pretty woman, and Lee didn’t want to know.
“Would you like to see them?”
He nodded. “Sure. If that tribe kept the mummies safe all these years, maybe they can keep you safe, too.”
“Hmm.” She considered the idea. “That might be the solution.”
“It still doesn’t make sense though,” Lee admitted. “So what if you can prove these mummies are who you think they are? Does that mean this country is going to pin their hopes on some guy who’s been living in the mountains all his life, drinking yak milk and praying to Buddha, just because you tell them he’s a descendant of Alexander the Great? How will that save the world? It sounds more like you’re signing his death sentence.”
“You know about the Buddha?” Of everything he’d just said, that was what caught her attention.
“Ah, yeah.”
She wasn’t about to let this go. “You’re Buddhist maybe?”