The Path to Freedom (Task Force 125)

by Pietsch, Lisa; Gerow, Tina

  Sarah matched his tone as she pushed him away and marched out of the stateroom. “And you test my tolerance.”

  She proceeded to the helipad without looking behind her. She knew Hassan followed closely. Sarah was quite sure the sass he found appealing at first would soon wear thin. She only hoped she’d be able to gauge the time and place appropriately. Hassan was not a small man and she was sure he could do her serious damage if he ever got the first hit.

  When she arrived at the helipad, she turned to look for Hassan. He was so close behind her she practically bumped into his chest. She recognized the depraved look in his eyes. They gleamed with desire. Sarah breathed a small sigh of relief.

  Sass still works.

  Kadeem waited inside the helicopter and glared at Sarah as Hassan helped her into the aircraft. “Perhaps the lady would prefer to stay here today?”

  “The Sheikh is pleased with her company,” Hassan answered tersely in Arabic.

  Sarah snuggled up to Hassan and purred, “I adore the sound of your language. I wish I could understand what you’re saying.”

  “I was simply telling Kadeem although you are a pain in my ass and take entirely too long to get ready, I still take pleasure in your company.”

  Sarah smiled and whispered in Hassan’s ear. “It’s too bad he’s here. You’d be taking a whole lot more pleasure in my company.”

  Hassan gave her a sideways glance and a wicked smile.

  Yeah, I’ve still got an edge on you. Ego and libido will be your downfall.

  The helicopter flew low along the northern coast of Africa. Sarah guessed to avoid radar but left the technical issues to the pros. She hoped the team had found some way to track her. She hadn’t had any contact with Chris since yesterday morning and had been unable to speak with Vince last night. The knives in her boots kept her from feeling completely vulnerable.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Vince dropped two ice cubes into his coffee and sleepily climbed the flight of stairs to the bridge. Chris had all his radio and satellite gear set up there and Vince started every day with a status check on Sarah. “Mornin’, Chris. How’s our girl today?”

  “Just a sec, Vince.” Chris rubbed his face with both his hands and keyed his microphone again. “Sarah, if you can read me, please acknowledge.”

  Warning sirens went off inside Vince’s head. The tone of Chris’ voice sounded desperate. Chris always seemed chipper when he chatted with Sarah. “Talk to me, Chris.”

  Chris turned his chair to face Vince. “I lost her.”

  Vince couldn’t have heard him correctly. Chris always had contact. He must be overreacting. “Come again?”

  Chris held his head in his hands. “I have no GPS signal from her watch, can’t find the boat on satellite and have no audio whatsoever.”

  The muscles in the back of Vince’s neck tensed. She wasn’t just a teammate to him. She was more. It took a moment to bury his personal feelings but he did. Vince picked up his coffee, took one huge swig to finish the cup, and calmly but swiftly planned their next course of action. “Get your head out of your hands, agent. Map their last known coordinates and get them to Brian. We’re moving.” He pushed the intercom button. “All hands. Brian, I need you on the bridge now. Jason, prepare the war gear and weapons. Will, get your kit ready.”

  Vince heard the thump-thump-thump of someone bounding up the stairs.

  Brian burst through the door to the bridge. “What’s going on?”

  Vince glowered at Brian. “We lost Sarah.” He pointed at Chris. “Get the coordinates from Chris and get us there, balls to the wall. Chris, call Araxos and see if they can get a fix on her signature.”

  “Uh, Vince?” Chris interrupted.

  Vince had his hand on the doorknob. “What?”

  “We’ve got company. Small, fast mover and six personnel coming up on our aft.” Chris tossed Vince the binoculars.

  “Shit. We may have been made.” Vince focused the binoculars on the same Zodiac they’d seen before. Only this time it was loaded with six guys and they were armed to the teeth.

  If we’ve been made, Sarah’s been made.

  Jason exploded into the room. “What’s up? What’s happening? What’s going on?”

  Vince grabbed the shotgun and ammunition Jason held and tossed them to Brian. Then he took three earpieces from Chris’s desk. “Plot your course, get ready to move. We need to finish these pirates. I’ll tell you when to go.”

  Vince turned to Jason and handed him an earpiece. “Get me two shotguns and an AK for Will. You get an M-60 on that fly deck now.”

  “You got it.” Jason tore out of the room.

  Vince left the bridge and slid down the stair rails.

  Will was waiting when his feet hit the floor. “What’s the situation?”

  “Follow me.” Vince gave Will an earpiece and crossed to the aft deck. “Chris lost Sarah. No GPS, no audio. The Zodiac is back and packed with six armed men. We finish these bastards off and get to Sarah’s last known location to try to track her down, if it isn’t too late.”

  Jason arrived loaded with two Benelli shotguns and an AK-47. He handed Vince the shotguns and a large ammo pouch. “You got five rounds in each weapon and here’s an extra two-hundred.”

  Will grabbed the AK-47. “What have I got?”

  Jason pointed to the rifle. “You’ve got seventy-five rounds in the drum, one in the chamber.” He handed Will another large round magazine for the rifle. “Here’s an extra seventy-five rounds.” Jason spun and ran up to the fly deck. Vince heard him through his earpiece. “Boss, I got two thousand rounds upstairs. If we can’t finish them with what we’ve got then it’s time to retire.”

  Vince laid his ass on the line every day and the only way he could keep on doing it was knowing he had a crew as competent as this one. He focused on the job. Now was not the time to imagine what might be happening to Sarah. “Jason, stay out of sight until we need you. Will, we’re gonna ambush these bastards as they try to board.” He cocked both shotguns. “If we can keep their gear and boat, all the better.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sarah peered out the window of the helicopter in an effort to get her bearings from the terrain below. They flew inland for what seemed like hours. With a glance at her watch, she determined they’d been flying due south for the past forty-five minutes. They now flew over what appeared to be a military camp.

  Camouflage netting mixed in and under the trees hid something, Sarah wasn’t sure what. The untrained eye wouldn’t notice, but Sarah did. She pretended not to and made silly comments about the terrain. All the while her gut twisted. What sort of situation was she flying into?

  She hadn’t been as concerned about her safety on the boatafter all, she could always jump.

  Vince did say they wouldn’t leave her in the water for long.

  But now, she flew into the heart of enemy territory, without any identification, to a continent where you couldn’t spit without hitting a terrorist training camp. To say she was apprehensive would be an understatement. She prayed her charms would be enough to carry her safely through this leg of the adventure.

  A large estate appeared beneath them. An immense, Mediterranean-style home stood at one end of the property. Stables graced the other and several outbuildings stood at each side of a large grassy yard clearly used for helicopter landings. The grounds were lush and full of trees. Outside the perimeter of the estate, the ground was bare. Dread sank to the bottom of her belly. She wouldn’t stand a chance in such bleak terrain if she tried to make a break and run.

  Two men dressed in black with white turbans stood on the ground just outside rotor range.

  I hope this isn’t my welcoming committee.

  When the rotors stopped, Kadeem jumped out of the chopper to hold the door open for Hassan.

  Hassan stepped out and then reached in to help Sarah down the stairs.

  One of the men who stood a few feet away widened his eyes when he saw Sarah.
<
br />   Not expecting me? Oh, good.

  The man ran to Hassan and addressed him belligerently in Arabic. “What is this woman doing here? Why would you bring her with you?”

  Hassan bristled and responded in Arabic. “You forget yourself, Assad. I have killed better men than you for such insolence.”

  “Forgive me, Sheikh, but I am concerned only for your safety.” He nearly whimpered after Hassan’s reprimand.

  “The woman poses no threat to my safety. She is here as my guest and will receive the respect due to a guest in the house of Sheikh Hassan Abdullah Mohammed al-Rashid. I trust you understand?”

  “Yes, of course. I beg the Sheikh’s pardon.” The man bowed low as Hassan and Sarah strode past him.

  Close one. I don’t think I’d care to hear that tone in Hassan’s voice again. This is a dangerous game. I only hope I can play it out.

  “What a scary man. You really pull out all the stops, don’t you? In the United States, we keep dogs to scare away strangers.” Sarah linked her arm through Hassan’s and gave him one of the admiring gazes he seemed to adore as he led her away from the helicopter.

  “Do you like dogs? I have two.”

  “Not if they’re as scary as he is.”

  Hassan chuckled. “No, they are quite friendly.”

  “Then I would love to meet them,” Sarah squealed in delight.

  “Ah, here they are.” Hassan pointed toward two beautiful specimens of the Saluki breed as they sprinted toward them.

  The dossier had noted he’d kept Salukis and described all about the breed, how it was bred for its speed and skill in the desert. If she didn’t understand Arabic, she certainly shouldn’t know about Salukis. “Oh, they’re magnificent. What breed are they?” Sarah played her socialite part as she bent to pat a very friendly black and tan dog.

  “They are Saluki. Prized by the Bedouin, I keep them in honor of my ancestry.”

  “Really?” Here’s my chance to lay on a little ditz. “So, are you one of those men who wear the long flowing robes, ride camels and live in those black, carpeted tents in the desert?” She smiled playfully.

  “The Hollywood version but, simply put, yes. My family has a long, proud Bedouin history.”

  Her appearance of ignorance seemed to amuse him. Relief radiated throughout her body. Apparently she could get away with a whole lot more than the men around him as long as she put a kittenish spin on whatever she did. Of course, sleeping with their boss did give her a distinct advantage.

  “Where are the horses? Do you have Arabian horses? I’ve never seen an Arabian horse up close before.”

  “Then you have never seen a true horse.” Hassan stood and smiled indulgently at Sarah. “I have some business I need to attend to inside. Why don’t you go to the stables and find a pretty horse you’d like to ride? I’ll be down shortly to ride with you.”

  “That sounds dreamy,” she enthused as she kissed Hassan on the cheek. She patted the flank of one of the dogs. “Come on, let’s go.” She jogged and laughed as the dogs ran circles around her to the stables.

  Well, he seems to be enjoying me so far, as long as I continue to play pussycat, I might stand a pretty good chance of making it out of here alive.

  Sarah had seen stables before but Hassan’s stables put the farm stables in South Dakota to shame. Every inch of wood had been polished to a high shine. The floor of the center aisle was made of fine marble and so spotless you could eat off it.

  Even the horses were different. Arabians were nothing like the quarter horses and mustang ponies Sarah had seen in the United States.

  Sarah counted twelve horses. Of them all, one stood out as the finest. The gold plate on his stall gate was engraved in Arabic. She looked around to be sure she was alone with the horses.

  “Mu’tazz Asad. Mighty Lion? You look more like a puppy than a lion to me.”

  His eyes were large and a soft brown. When Sarah looked into them, she got the impression this was a very intelligent horse. Though he was a stallion, he was gentle and particularly friendly. He stood taller than the other horses, majestic with his solid black coat glistening in the sunlight coming through the high windows. His long mane draped down the side of his neck and his tail almost reached the ground.

  Sarah glanced around and found a very tidy line of bins. She reached into one and grabbed a handful of oats. After her new friend relieved her of the oats, she rummaged for a brush and began to stroke his neck. He sidled up to the gate so Sarah could brush more of his back. Sarah chuckled at the animal’s antics. Mighty Lion acted more like a pet dog than any horse she’d ever seen.

  “Stunning creatures.”

  She recognized Hassan’s voice behind her and continued to run the brush over the horse’s neck. “Yes, they are. All of them.”

  “I meant you and him.”

  “Oh, I see. Am I another animal for your stable?”

  “I would never dream of keeping you in the stable,” he asserted. Hassan wrapped his arms around her from behind and growled. “But I am seriously considering taking you in the stable.”

  “If it pleases the Sheikh, who am I to question?” She pressed herself back against his long powerful body, feeling his arousal against her ass.

  “Are you still angry with me?” He nuzzled her neck.

  “Oh, I’m still angry.” Sarah turned in his arms and pulled him closer to sandwich herself between him and the stable wall. “But that won’t stop me from having my way with you.”

  She reached to unbutton his pants and free his impressive erection. She stroked him gently at first as she reached up with her other hand to unbutton his shirt.

  He busied himself with unbuttoning her shirt and caressing her breasts through the delicate white lace bra.

  She opened his shirt and pressed against him, raining a trail of soft kisses down his bronzed chest and rippled abs.

  ~~~

  Sarah stood and stretched her legs. Her lips felt swollen and her shirt was still open.

  A gentle finger touched her lips and then traced a line from her bottom lip to the center of her heaving breasts where the yellow diamond rested. “You wear this every day. Have you no other jewels? Am I the only man who has given you jewels?” He seemed dismayed and shocked by the possibility.

  “Yes, you are.” Sarah turned away from his gaze. The men she had been with before Hassan were either poor, cheap or inconsiderate.

  Hassan gently gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. He lifted her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. Sarah did all she could to mask the pain of years of wasted faith in other people. She’d given her love to men who’d tossed it away like yesterday’s news. Now when she’d decided to withhold her love from the equation, fate dealt her a new hand entirely.

  Funny how the worst man I’ve ever been involved with treats me better than all the rest combined.

  “Then I shall make myself a very difficult act to follow.”

  Hassan’s comment touched Sarah. “You already are.”

  Tragic you are either not long for this world or you’ll spend the rest of your days locked up in Cuba.

  Sarah shoved the thought to the back of her mind and focused on her act. “Now this is the horse I want to ride.” She pointed at Mu’tazz. “Where are the saddles?”

  “You have excellent taste.” He smiled.

  “Yes, I do. And so do you.” She gave him a saucy wink as she buttoned her blouse.

  “Can you ride an English saddle?”

  “Of course, doesn’t everyone?” She thanked her lucky stars she’d taken riding lessons and had chosen the English style and learned to post.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sarah stood by and waited as a stable hand readied the horses for her and Hassan. Once he finished, she and Hassan saddled up and headed off at a canter.

  They never left the compound, yet found isolation in a lush forested area.

  Sarah marveled at the hard work that must have gone into creating this fertile oasis
in a desolate North African desert. Everything sat silent except for the sounds of birds and the horses’ hooves.

  “Are you all right?” Hassan spun in his saddle and asked from several yards ahead.

  “Yes, your estate is beautiful. Go on. I’ll catch up.”

  “Sarah, come in, damnit!” Sarah’s heart leapt and hammered against her ribs when she finally heard the voice she’d been waiting for.

  “Hey, stranger. What’s the big idea leaving me high and dry?” she whispered.

  “Technical difficulties. Our pirate friends came back for some fun. We know where you are and can be there within thirty minutes if we have to.”

  “Thirty minutes? It took us over forty-five to get here.”

  “Brian’s friends have fast boats and even faster helicopters.”

  Brian’s friends? Navy. Ah, the Sixth Fleet. Good to know who has your back.

  “We’ve got a great picture of the top of his organization now. We’re also getting some great satellite feed of the camp you’re in.”

  “So, it is a training camp?”

  “Yeah, from the satellite pictures, it looks like a staging area for something big. The boss wanted to pull you out tonight, but if you’re okay, we’ll leave you in a little longer.”

  “Yeah, I’m cool. Don’t stay away so long next time.”

  “No problem, babe. Big Daddy will take good care of his girl. Do you know where you are?”

  “Northern Africa is all I know.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re in Libya.”

  “Aw, shit.” Terrorism wasn’t an exception in Libya. More like the rule.

  “Look, Sarah. You need to know something. This isn’t the first operation we’ve done this way. You know, with a Honey Pot. You’re the second.”

  “Yeah, I know. So, what happened to the first? Did she play her cards right and retire on the jewelry?”

  “No such happy ending. She fell in love with the target, and lost her nerve. She didn’t have the guts to choose between herself and the guy. When it got ugly, she thought she could negotiate her way out. He didn’t see things her way.”