That bastard Turik set his rifle aside and had the nerve to crouch at Lee’s knee. “Ah, Tess,” he muttered, his hand to her forehead and his fingers to the pulse at her neck. “Don’t frighten your American friend like this. I know you and you’re too stubborn to die.” He ran a hand over her face and peered at Lee. “May I take her, mate? I have something with me that may do the trick.”
Lee couldn’t believe his eyes. This was Turik, the murderous Taliban sniper suddenly on his knees and asking to help? “Don’t hurt her,” he growled, even as Turik didn’t wait for permission to lift Tess out of his arms.
He seated himself on the same couch with Tess on his lap, the last place Lee wanted her to be. God, the man was arrogant. Lee would’ve made a grab for the rifle, but Tess’s awful condition made him stay. If this was to be her last breath, he wanted to be there for her.
“My beautiful, stubborn Lady Tess,” Turik muttered. “You’ve always been smarter than me and tonight, you’ve taught me yet another lesson. For that, I am most humbly in your debt.”
Nothing the man said made sense. The world had shifted again, and Lee had no choice but to let this strange, cruel assassin help. Lee would’ve let Satan himself help if he could’ve saved Tess.
Turik produced a small metal flask no bigger than a perfume bottle from an inner pocket. “One nip should do the trick. I say, my good fellow, would you mind? My hands are a bit full.” He tilted the bottle for Lee to open.
Turik didn’t have to remind Lee how full his hands were. Lee uncapped the bottle quickly and Turik pressed the flask to her lips, tipping it barely enough for one drop of the coal-black liquid to drip forth.
“Come now,” Turik whispered into Tess’s ear. “Do be a good girl and drink up. We’ll have none of these dramatics. Don’t be a twit. Swallow. You’re frightening your lover. You are lovers, aren’t you?” he asked Lee pointedly.
Lee couldn’t answer, not to this guy, not something so intimate. Turik knew damned well what Tess meant to Lee. He held his breath, his heart a gaping hole at the very real possibility she was already gone, that he’d lost his reason to live.
Turik pushed the bottle farther between her lips and tilted it upward. She coughed as her throat worked an automatic swallow. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, all the while eyeing Lee. “I must admit I didn’t expect you to be such an honorable gentleman, Agent Hart. You’re quite the fierce fighter, too. Duly noted. I’m impressed.”
I don’t give a shit what you think. Lee stared into the deep brown eyes of his enemy, an English-speaking, brown-skinned, native son of Afghanistan.
The man liked to talk. “Did you know Tess and I met in London?”
What the hell could Lee say to that? Why hadn’t she told him?
“Ahh. I can see by the look in your eyes you didn’t know. Tess is still keeping her secrets, is she?”
“I just barely met her.” Defense for her came easily to his lips. Lee tamped down his panic. Tess would’ve gotten around to telling him all of her secrets.
“Yes, she was studying the history of her British forefathers and the Afghan lore of the other side of her family—I daresay the more romantic half. I was enthralled with world economics. Somehow, we found each other before we came to our senses. We parted friends and went our separate ways.”
Tess moaned, and Lee wanted her back in his arms. Secrets or not, she belonged with him. “You’re not her friend. You tried to kill her.”
“Yes, I did, but we were once the truest friends. She’s a treasure among women,” Turik said reverently. He’d dropped his guard, gazing into her quiet face. She’d resumed breathing. Lee detected the lightest inhalations beneath that heavy wrap. His gaze drifted to the rifle at the other side of Turik.
Of course, Turik noticed. “We’re not so different, Agent Hart,” he said, his voice suddenly low, his gaze as filled with cunning as Lee’s. “We’re both in love with the same woman, but don’t assume that just because I’m here, I don’t also wage my own internal jihad at what my country asks of me. Surely you do the same?”
That sincere introspection was not expected. “You and your buddies are killing this country and you’re ruining everything good in it,” Lee countered, his jaw clenched tight. “Explain to me how terrorizing innocent people helps anyone.”
“You will never understand our ways.”
“You’ve got that right,” Lee retorted, catching a glint of something else in Turik’s eye. Something dark and deadly. He bit his tongue, remembering whose house he was still in. He and Tess weren’t out of the woods yet. “It looks like you care for her. Why’d you take a shot at her at the palace?”
Turik framed the side of her face with his free hand, the bottle now stowed out of sight in some hidden pocket within his robe. “I never intended to kill her that night. She has given me too much to think about. Do what she said. Look around, Agent Hart. What do you see?”
Lee glanced around the fine art and décor of the gaudy room. All he saw was the bloodied prayer rug and the bastard who’d hurt Tess. His fists clenched with restrained rage. “We don’t have time for this. She needs a doctor.”
“Bloody hell,” Turik muttered. “Look with your eyes, man, not your heart.”
All Lee had was heart, damn it, only Turik was holding it. None of the ancient bullshit mattered. Not even Nizari’s death mattered. Only Tess.
“My God, you’re a worthless sot. You really are in love with her, aren’t you?” Turik peered into Lee’s brimming eyes. “Take her then, but trust me. Tess is strong. She needs rest and care, but she’ll not die from these wicked stripes. Hold her while I have the supreme honor of telling you what I see.”
With that, Turik relinquished Tess into Lee’s waiting arms. Lee cradled her again, his heart breaking when she whimpered at the jostling. Pressing a kiss into her hair, he kept his eyes on the two murderers in the room. Only now, he wasn’t so sure about the one. Turik had an air of dignity Lee hadn’t expected for the cold-blooded assassin. The man acted as if he had nothing to fear from Lee or Nizari.
When Turik took hold of his weapon again, Lee noticed it was a modified, magazine-fed, gas-operated, semi-automatic M14 sniper rifle. The reverent way Turik handled it shot a wave of déjà vu through Lee. The man loved his weapon, and it showed. That friend he’d just tucked under his arm with a loving caress was American-made, accurate as hell, and effective at extremely long ranges with out-of-this-world takedown capability. Lee would know. It was his weapon of choice, too.
“Now I see what Miss Culver wanted me to see.” Turik turned to Nizari, his brow spiked. “This is your home, my esteemed leader and noble friend? Your sanctuary from the world? I see now why you have kept it to yourself.”
Turik toured the room, stopping in front of a glassed-in cabinet filled with shards of dingy carved ivory. “Ah, so this is where they really ended up.” He stroked his chin and nodded at Lee. “Imagine that. We were told they’d been destroyed, but here they are. May I introduce you to the Begram Ivory panels of... what?” He turned back to Nizari, who’d grown exponentially paler and quieter now that Turik held his weapon again. “The first century? Earlier than that? Speak up, Hasim. I’m certain you have more lies to tell.”
Nizari’s shoulders sagged. His gaze dropped to the floor between his knees.
“Perhaps it is better you don’t speak. Let this room speak for you and your less-than-noble deeds.” Turik motioned to the tapestry covering Tess. “That priceless work of art belonged to Bayazid Roshan, if I’m not mistaken. Do you know your Afghan history, Agent Hart?”
Lee shook his head. This stupid conversation vexed him. He needed to get Tess to a doctor, not sit around and be forced to listen to an extreme trivia game.
“Ah, I see. You do not. And that is why your country shall fail to conquer mine,” Turik said somberly. “For all your shock and awe, you American soldiers have not taken the time to truly study or understand the enemy you seek to destroy. No matter. We have time tonight, a
nd I shall be glad to teach you. Bayazid Roshan was an enlightened intellectual who fought for independence in my country many years ago. In the sixteenth century, I believe. But wait...” Turik strode purposefully to an alcove tucked into the opposite wall. “I’m impressed, Hasim. You have the ancient Buddha of Nuristan. Amazing. I was told this alabaster statue was destroyed at the onset of the fatwa, but I see that is not the case. Interesting.”
Turik marched from treasure to treasure, some ancient Afghan treasures and artifacts, some from far-off China and India. He spent a particularly long time at a round green plate with a gold-embossed face of what looked like Alexander the Great. His eyes suddenly turned cold and dark. “I think your time here is at an end, Agent Hart.”
That didn’t sound good. Lee’s gut clenched at the ominous warning.
“See to it that you take extremely good care of our girl. Be gentle with Lady Tess. She’ll make you angry enough to curse the day you met her, but she’ll love you deeply and purely like none other.” Turik’s voice softened as he came back to Tess and knelt, his hand tunneled into her sweaty hair. He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Love her,” he admonished Lee quietly. “Love her as much as I do. Can you promise to do that?”
“If you loved her so much, you’d let me get her to a doctor,” Lee growled, wanting to knock this pompous ass to his butt.
“You’re right,” Turik said softly, his eyes full of tender emotion, “but do love her. That’s all I ask. Make her happy if you can. Dance with her in the morning and make love to her when the sun sets. Make babies. Many, many babies. She has a great love for children.”
Lee nodded, his hands wrapped around Tess to lift her with him when he stood. If Turik was letting him go, he intended to seal the deal and split. But first...
Lee jerked his chin toward Nizari. “What will happen to him?”
“Ahh...” Turik turned to face the real devil in the room. His eyes narrowed. The soft smile left his lips. “The noble Hasim and I have much to talk about.”
Lee caught the insinuation of what he hoped was more than just a friendly conversation in Nizari’s near future. Rising to his feet, Lee turned his back on the Taliban’s best assassin and banker. With Tess curled against his broad chest, Lee had what he’d come for.
He’d barely cleared the inner doorway when he heard footsteps on his heels. For one fraction of a second, he feared he’d been lied to, that Turik might kill him with a garrote. He kept walking.
The house had become eerily still. Angling Tess through the outer door, Lee paused for a second. The sleek, shiny BMW parked at the other side of the house had to be Nizari’s. His gut told him Turik didn’t travel in style. Good enough.
Lee didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He rested Tess carefully in the passenger seat. The arrogant man had left the key in the ignition. Why not? Who would dare steal from a man who thought he was better than God?
Lee cranked the ignition, and drove away. He aimed the headlights toward Kabul. Behind the smoked glass of the devil’s car, he was invincible. He just hoped the guards at Camp Eggers front gate gave him enough time to explain who he was before they shot him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’m fine.” Lee brushed Jordan’s concern aside. He’d traded Turik’s now bloodied scarf on his arm for a roll of white medical gauze, opting for real treatment only after Tess was taken care of. Jordan requisitioned a pair of scrubs for him, a welcome relief from his bloodied clothing. A shower would feel good, but for the moment he sat in a waiting room at Camp Eggers medical facility.
Tess had been loaded with antibiotics and painkillers, her three lash marks cleaned and treated. She rested blissfully unaware in a room one door down the hall. Hunter had a concussion from a near-fatal bullet to his hard head. Eric had a tidy hole through his left chest that had nicked a lung. Nothing critical. Both were shot full of drugs and resting in rooms a little farther down the hall.
Alex was the problem. He’d been in emergency surgery since Lee had returned to Eggers. In all the uproar of the Taliban ambush, he’d stepped on a dying sheep and shattered his right ankle when he fell. That didn’t stop him from blowing more of the enemy away until they’d retreated, but it did set poor Seth and Jordan up for a royal dressing down when Alex finally got to his feet. He always came up fighting mad and spitting nails. Top that with the disaster of Lee and Tess’s disappearance, and both Seth and Jordan were screwed just because they were the last men standing.
Jordan snickered. “I can hear it back at the office now. The boss lost a fight with a fluffy sheep.”
“How long are they gonna keep him in there?” Seth asked. He looked like hell, his face covered with grime and sweat from the battle. But then, they all looked like hell.
Lee shot him a disbelieving look. Seth tended to talk too much when he was stressed. That was the third time he’d asked the same question. “Be glad he’s still in there. The last thing I remember was you diving over the hood of our Humvee like Beau Duke sliding over General Lee. You want to tell me what happened?”
Seth dipped his head. “I don’t exactly remember. I just thought, umm, they killed Eric. Made me mad.”
“No shit. You charged into the night. I thought you went down with Eric. Scared the hell out of me.”
“Yeah well,” Seth mumbled. “I did kill a lot of sheep out there.”
“Don’t let him kid you,” Jordan cut in. “Beau Duke nothing. Seth was a flaming Rambo on steroids. He took care of the whole west flank. How many’d you take out, Seth?”
“Sheep?” Seth asked.
“No,” Jordan growled. “I don’t care about the damned sheep. How many Taliban?”
Lee had to smile. Seth was still frazzled from the battle, dealing with the after-effects of its intense overload of adrenaline and fear. They all were. Lee had expected to find Eric dead for sure when he’d shown up at the hospital with Tess. That only sheep and Taliban had died was due to a freaking miracle called Seth. When he’d seen his buddy go down, he turned into an avenging angel, charged into the flock and ended the war. Guess he’d gotten past his anxiety issues.
“Seven,” Seth answered. “I killed seven Taliban and eleven sheep. I feel bad about the sheep.”
“Good on you,” Jordan said proudly. “You saved Eric’s life; mine, too. If you weren’t just a civilian contractor, they’d be giving you a medal right now.”
“I don’t need a medal,” Seth muttered.
“No, you don’t,” Lee said, “but I’m damned glad to know you, man.”
Seth looked more confident than he had in months, his eyes clearer and his back straight. Just maybe he’d finally remembered the man he was. He nodded to Lee. “What’s that bastard Turik like anyway?”
That was a tough one. How did you explain a privileged Afghan young man who’d been educated in England, loved a reckless American woman, and truly believed the divine law of Shari’a, but served his country in the same profession as the men on The TEAM?
“I guess I respect him,” Lee said simply. “I don’t like the guy, but he’s not like any of the other Taliban I’ve met.”
“Hey, a couple other American soldiers showed up here at the hospital. Some Marines found them when they were out on patrol,” Jordan said. “Talk about Rambo. Those poor guys are singing your praises to anyone who’ll listen to them. It sounds like you made up your mind to be a hero tonight, too.”
Lee changed the subject. He was no hero. “How’d the Taliban get to me and Tess so fast? It’s like they knew where we were in the convoy.”
Jordan scrubbed a hand over his face. “Damned if I know. I saw a couple guys dragging you off through the sheep once I came to. There were so many explosions going off, I thought I was seeing things.”
“They get the rig?”
“No, but they messed it up some. We’d a been in a world of shit if the guys from Eggers hadn’t shown up.”
“The reliquary’s still safe?” Lee asked.
Seth
blew out a tired sigh. “It’s in the commander’s safe, waiting for Tess to wake up. Alex was mad as a hornet because of the ambush.”
Lee smiled. If Alex was mad, all must be right with the world.
A female orderly entered the small waiting room. “Excuse me, but we have a few empty beds at the moment. You’ll have to give ’em up if we get casualties, but you’re welcome to them if you’d like a place to sleep.”
“I’m outta here.” Seth rolled out the door behind the orderly. “Point me to a rack.”
“You need to get that arm looked at,” Jordan reminded Lee for the hundredth time.
“I’d rather wait, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah right.” Jordan thumped Lee’s uninjured shoulder lightly. “Go give her a kiss and get some sleep. She isn’t going anywhere, and the boss is still getting bolted back together. You’ve got time.”
Lee eyed his big-mouthed friend. Jordan was right. He was beat, but the last thing he needed was an infection. He let out a deep sigh and pushed to his feet. It had been a long damn day, but kissing Tess was a good idea whether she was awake or not. He said his goodbyes and made his way to her room.
She lay on her side facing the door, sound asleep and her hair gathered in a ponytail. Lee was angry all over again that Nizari had struck her three times with that whip, but thankful it hadn’t been more. He debated returning Nizari’s BMW to Turik, but decided against it. Spoils of war. Let Turik come and get it if he wanted it.
She looked a little better now, still pale but not as white. He traced her soft cheek with the backs of his fingers so as not to wake her. Tess had become everything to him. Silly woman had even said she was going to rescue him. Damn, she was a force to be reckoned with. He leaned down and kissed her sweet lips and told her so. “I love you, Tess. You’re safe now. Sleep as long as you want. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 27
