by Kaylea Cross
“Not about that.” She was still pissed as hell about the article. How far did this corruption extend, anyway? Were they trying to set her up for the Taliban now too? “Did you hear anything else from Tom this morning? About what the State Department said last night? He told me he’d look into it and see if he could find out more.” Because they’d told her jack other than they were following up on the investigation. Until she found out the real story, until she learned who was involved and those responsible were brought to justice, it would eat her alive.
Hunter slid his hands into his cargo pant pockets, his whole demeanor softening. She didn’t want his pity, but his concern felt nice. “Nothing further that I’ve heard, but he’ll be conferencing with the rest of us during the briefing. And if he heard anything, either you or I would be the first to know. Tom’s good that way. He’s got lots of connections to call on so he’ll be digging right now along with the State Department, don’t worry about that.”
Why shouldn’t she? She was already worrying about another thousand things anyway. What was one more? She forced herself to nod.
“Briefing’s about to start,” he said, assertive and self-assured. “I’ll check back in later.”
“Okay,” she answered dully.
He started for the door, waving at Ray to stay where he was. “I’ll let myself out.” His gaze cut to her again and she couldn’t help but respond to the kindness she saw there. “Try to get some rest if you can. I promise you we’re on top of everything. You’ve already come this far, right? You can make it through the rest.”
Touched by his words, she forced a small smile. “Thank you.” Her eyes followed him all the way to the door, and when it closed behind him and left her alone with Ray, she already felt less safe.
Ray lowered himself into the chair opposite hers. “You all right? I can leave so you get some more sleep. We can go over all this later.”
“No,” she said, straightening her spine and grabbing the list of staff members’ names. It was hard to focus when all she wanted to do was investigate further into her father’s murder. If the State Department had any idea who was behind it, they were keeping it to themselves for now. “I’d rather have something to do to distract myself for the time being.”
Hunter was right. She was going to see this through all the way, and do it right. Fuck the Taliban and whoever had helped them capture her father. She wasn’t leaving until the job was done. And once this school opening was behind her, she was going to do whatever she could to help nail the bastards involved with her father’s murder.
Back in his room down the hall from Khalia’s, Hunter found the others all gathered around the small circular table where Gage had laid out all the necessary maps and documents. The two remaining members of his team glanced up when he entered. Hunter hadn’t worked with either of them before and normally that would have made him edgy as hell, but so far he had only the highest respect for their conduct. Tom had promised to send Hunter his best, and he had.
Blake Ellis was an ex Marine Scout/Sniper. Standing around six feet tall, he had medium toned brown skin and a quiet lethality about him. His hazel eyes met Hunter’s, relaying a calm professionalism he appreciated. He’d worked with Scout/Snipers in the field before and had found them to be some of the best in the world. Ellis’s expertise allowed them much more operational latitude and flexibility, which Hunter considered invaluable.
Beside Ellis stood Sean Dunphy, his spotter in various missions since coming to work for Titanium. Black haired, black eyed and tattooed, the ex Force Recon Marine was hell on wheels with a computer, among other things. With nothing more than a laptop and an Internet link, he could do things Hunter could never dream of. His technological skills were rivaled only by his field craft and shooting. Hunter looked forward to exploiting that entire skill set on the upcoming operation.
On the far side of the table stood the other team leader in charge of Ray’s protective detail, thirty-six year old Neil Braithwaite, a former Army captain. He straightened next to his three guys and nodded at Hunter. “Mornin’.”
“Morning,” he answered, and pulled out his phone to dial up Tom on speaker. “We’re all ready here,” he said when his boss picked up.
“Okay, go ahead,” Tom said.
“All right, then let’s get down to business.” Hunter looked around the table, meeting each man’s eyes. “We had a few developments overnight that need to be addressed. First off, Khalia got a call from a State Department official confirming that the owner of the illegitimate contracting company her father hired and an unknown Pakistani official were working with the TTP to capitalize on John Patterson’s capture and subsequent ransom.” Gage already knew all this, but the hard set of his jaw made it clear how disgusted he was about it. Hunter shared the sentiment. The whole Patterson debacle and subsequent riots had wound up costing Scottie’s life, and Hunter wasn’t going to get over that any time soon.
One of the men from the other team let out a low whistle. “For real?”
“For real,” Tom answered for Hunter, his voice carrying through the phone. “I’m checking with my sources and haven’t been able to uncover anything else yet. As far as we know there’s no new chatter yet about credible threats against Khalia, but that could change in light of the second development this morning. Hunt?”
All eyes turned to him once more. “On top of all that,” he began, “a local paper published an interview with the Minister of Education and printed Khalia’s picture along with certain details about why she’s here. The school’s grand opening was mentioned and we have to assume the people interested in targeting Khalia and Ray know where it is. Won’t take an advanced degree for them to figure out when Fair Start’s people are going to visit the school. So basically the element of surprise is gone. The Taliban are going to want to act on this if they can pull an operation together in time. Only thing in our favor right now is there’s been no chatter picked up about her or Ray yet.”
“Which means less than a handful of shit,” Ellis remarked dryly, and the others muttered in agreement.
“Exactly,” Hunter said with a nod. “Given these new developments, both Khalia and Ray are on lockdown until we leave for the valley. In the meantime, let’s make sure we eliminate any potential threats for tomorrow.” With that, he and Gage got busy teaching the others about the lay of the land around the school. Topography of the region and location. Blueprints of the building itself. Entry and exit points. Layout. Staff. Emergency evacuation plans. Counter sniper positions.
“Ellis, this is your and Dunphy’s responsibility,” he continued, tapping a spot on the topo map he’d dragged onto the cluttered table top. “Neil, members of your team will set up positions here.” He indicated another point he and Gage had marked the night before.
The other team leader nodded, rubbing the side of his jaw. “What about this trail leading off to the northeast?” He indicated a path on the satellite image beside the map.
“There’re only eight of us, so we’ll cover the most at risk areas and adapt on the fly if necessary. Which brings me to contingency plans.”
It took another two hours to go over everything that needed to be covered. Overnight he and Gage had tried to plan for every conceivable threat or problem, but the reality was they couldn’t predict exactly what, if anything, would happen out there tomorrow. Could be anything from nothing to a suicide bombing. If they were lucky, all their preparations would go unneeded. If not, then they’d already prepared for the worst. One benefit was that since most of them were ex-Spec Ops members, they were well versed in adapting during the chaos of battle.
After a few rounds of discussion for clarification and handing out assignments, the coffee had long since run out and he could tell the guys were anxious to secure their gear and get going. Hunter shook hands with everyone. The other team left, but Dunphy and Ellis hung back, clearly wanting to talk. “What’s up?” he asked them.
“We’re driving her in with Gage b
ut we haven’t formally met her yet,” Ellis began. “You want us to introduce ourselves, go over the emergency contingencies and exit strategy with her?”
Hunter hid his instinctive reaction to outright reject anyone else going to her right now. Keeping his distance from her was probably in everyone’s best interest, but she trusted him and Hunter would be lying if he didn’t admit that he liked how it felt. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now and I don’t want to make it worse by giving her anything else to worry about. I’ll tell her what she needs to know tonight before I head out.” After he did what he could to ensure she had as many stress free hours as possible to unwind. Yesterday had left more marks on her than just cuts and scrapes. The bombings had been a brutal reality check for her, let alone that late night news from the State Department.
“Roger that.” Ellis and Dunphy filed out of the room to go over their gear.
Hunter began tidying up while Gage checked on the radios and batteries. Briefing Khalia was necessary so she knew what to do in case of emergency, and it couldn’t be avoided. When he finally told her, it would probably scare her shitless no matter how he worded it. He wished there was something else he could do to shield her from all this. He hated her being in harm’s way over here.
She was kind and gentle and only trying to make a difference. Not many people would go to these lengths to step up and do something to better the lives of complete strangers halfway across the world, let alone someone who’d just lost her father in such a horrific way and now facing a lethal threat of her own. Knowing those militant fuckers wanted to kill her filled him with a deep, protective rage he had to keep locked down if he wanted to be sharp out there.
“Sure you want to be the one to give her the heads up tonight?” Gage asked as he packed equipment into his ruck.
“I’m sure.” She was already scared, even if she tried to hide it. No, this had to come from him. He was head of her detail. And dammit, he wanted to put her mind at ease before he left. Tomorrow was going to be hard enough on her as it was without her losing even more sleep over things she couldn’t control. He’d make it short and sweet, to the point, then get out.
Glancing over, he caught the flash of Gage’s knowing grin before he masked it. “That’s one hell of a bedtime story for her, Hunt. Think you’d better stay with her awhile afterward, just to make sure you don’t give her nightmares. Maybe tuck her in. I promise not to wait up for you.”
He shot Gage a narrow-eyed look that warned him to mind his own fucking business. “Hey. Long walk. Short pier.”
Gage only chuckled and went back to packing his gear. Hunter scowled to himself and stalked across the room to check his weapons. He already cared about her on a personal level, and if Gage could see it too, he was in serious fucking trouble here. His reputation was on the line with this job, as was his chance of winning a partnership with Tom. With a sigh he pulled out his cleaning kit and SIG.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. At least then he’d be away from her, and able to do his job with a clear head.
Chapter Seven
The four men with her in the vehicle seemed relaxed enough once they passed through the final military checkpoint in their journey, but Khalia’s stomach was in knots as they drove deeper into the northern part of the infamous Swat Valley. Hunter had come to her room late last night to give her a brief rundown of emergency and safety procedures for the school. He’d listed them quickly and calmly, stressed he was only reviewing them all with her as standard procedure, and when she didn’t have any questions for him, he’d left. Surprisingly, knowing the procedures ahead of time actually made her feel more secure and she’d managed to sleep until her alarm woke her well before dawn.
Once known as the Switzerland of the region, it was easy to see why. If she hadn’t known it was Pakistan, she’d half expect to see Julie Andrews come running over the hill at any moment, dressed in a nun’s habit and singing her heart out. The high mountain peaks soared skyward, yet untouched by the coming snows, and lush, deep valleys nestled amongst the foothills. Tribal villages lay scattered here over the valley, yet less than an hour ago they’d passed the largest ski resort in all of Pakistan.
She shifted in her seat and gazed out at the scenery. Aside from the deceptive beauty she was all too aware that these were not the Swiss Alps. The Pakistani military had a strong presence in the valley but it was the Taliban who truly reigned here, forcing the vulnerable civilians to conform to their strict interpretation of Islamic Sharia law at the point of a gun or knife. It seemed surreal but here in these bucolic hamlets women were subjugated by men, forced into a state of near slavery and some sequestered in their homes without being able to set foot outside without permission from their husband or village elder. It was so hard to reconcile that reality with the breathtaking view outside her window.
“Another ten minutes or so,” Gage announced from behind the wheel. She was in the back sandwiched between Ellis and Dunphy—or Blake and Sean, as they’d told her to call them. She’d met them for the first time that morning when Gage had come to get her just before three. On the way here they’d stopped outside of Saidu Sharif to pick up the interpreter, Zaid. The late twenty-something Pakistani sat in the front passenger seat beside Gage, speaking only when spoken to and with the trace of a British accent. All the men were dressed in camouflage gear and ready for business. The silence inside the vehicle didn’t seem to be bothering anyone but her. Tension continued to build inside her, already bad enough that her stomach ached.
“There it is.”
At Gage’s words she leaned forward to peer through the windshield, heart beating fast and a nervous flutter in her belly. Seconds later her father’s legacy came into view. She’d only seen pictures of it until now. Seeing it in person put a lump in her throat.
By western standards the school wasn’t much. Positioned in a clearing between two small villages, the one story white cinderblock building sat in the midst of lush grazing land and held only three classrooms. It was still better than anything this area had seen for years, since the Taliban’s initial campaign against girls’ education.
Her father had chosen this location with care, making sure the playground was built at the rear of the building for added protection against snipers or other threats. Khalia squeezed her hands together in her lap and bit the inside of her cheek against the sudden rise of tears. This was the dream her father had died for. She wished he’d been here to see it made a reality.
You mean you wish he was here instead of you, her conscience chided.
Yeah, a little, but Hunter’s final instructions to her last night were hard to forget. Even though he’d made it clear the contingency plan was only in place for an emergency, the need for its existence still weighed heavily on her mind.
“Here we go.” Gage’s voice and demeanor were perfectly calm. She wished she had half his confidence about being here. The vehicle rocked and jostled on the rough road leading toward the school. “Looks like Ray’s already waiting for you.”
She peered out the right rear window past Blake’s shoulder to see Ray standing out front of the school with a group of who she assumed were the staff members. He was smiling as he spoke to the middle aged woman beside him. Khalia expelled a slow breath, hoping none of the others noticed her anxiety. They were all experienced soldiers and probably already thought she was weak and helpless after her reaction to the bombings yesterday, so she didn’t want to prove them right.
Gage stopped a good distance from the school and pulled out his hand held radio that matched the one Hunter had given her earlier, stashed in her pants pocket beneath the robe. She had her own channel he would contact her on if necessary. “Hunt, we’re in position.”
“Roger that,” his familiar voice came back, creating a pang of yearning inside her. It bolstered her courage to know that he was out there in the cold somewhere, watching over her to make sure she was okay. “All clear.”
Setting his radio in his lap, Gag
e partially turned in his seat and offered her an encouraging smile. “Go ahead, hon. I’ll see you later.”
“Show time,” Blake announced beside her. He and Sean jumped out first, followed by Zaid. She gathered the unfamiliar long robe she’d changed into back in Islamabad—to avoid inadvertently offending anyone with her western style clothing and blend in more—and slid out of the vehicle, then followed the others toward the school. Again, the warm temperature was a shock after leaving the air conditioned interior of the SUV. Her battered feet were still sore, but not so painful that she couldn’t walk.
Ray met her part way to the building with the woman he’d been talking to. “Well, fancy meeting you here,” he teased and introduced her to the woman, who turned out to be the headmistress of the school and spoke a tiny bit of English.
“Salam alekum,” Khalia murmured, bowing her head slightly, extremely conscious of the scabbing sore on her cheek and temple. The woman replied the same in turn. Her face was weathered and worn, making her look much older than she probably was, but her deep brown eyes were clear and kind.
“Come,” the lady murmured once the pleasantries were over, gesturing for her and Ray to follow. When Khalia glanced back, Blake and Sean were nowhere to be seen and Gage was driving away to some undisclosed location. An awful sinking feeling took hold, like she had a bright red bull’s eye on her back. Though Ray was right beside her, she’d never felt so alone.
Pushing aside her worry, she entered the school with Ray and the headmistress. As she’d expected the interior was cold and sparsely furnished, with only a single bare bulb lighting each room. Still, it was clean and appeared to be well supplied. Each little classroom boasted a chalkboard along one wall and neatly arranged rows of desks for the students. The air inside was much cooler than out in the warm September sunshine. Khalia wrapped the shawl covering her hair and shoulders more tightly around herself as she walked through to the far side where the courtyard lay.
