by Unknown
Amiyah nodded. “The stars look like diamonds. I always try to grab one.” She reached up with one hand and it did look like she could almost touch the stars. I put up a hand too and we giggled as we pretended to pluck stars from the sky.
After the ride, weariness hit me along with the return to gravity. “I think I’m ready to go back. It’s been a long day.”
Amiyah hooked her elbow with mine again and guided me toward our tent. I was grateful for her navigation because all the tents and roads looked the same to me. I had no idea how to get back to our temporary home.
We’d only been walking for a few minutes when a group of burly men stopped us.
“Ruby Smith?” one of them asked. My name sounded exotic courtesy of their thick accent.
“Yes.” I stopped short and tugged Amiyah back a few steps. She seemed unconcerned, so perhaps she knew these men, but I was suspicious. Lately all the men I’d met had been trouble.
“Ferrid Abdul would speak to you.”
Ferrid? What did he want with me? Nothing good, said a small voice in the back of my mind. I took a step back, increasing the distance between me and the men.“But I just saw him.”
The men shrugged and advanced on us, spreading out to better block any attempt at escape. Awesome. I could see it now, I was going to be the James Bond girl who got herself tragically killed.
Amiyah frowned and looked at me, worried. “My father forbids me to go to his tent.”
“I don’t think it’s an invitation,” I said quietly. “It’s a command. Do me a favor, go back to our tent and tell your father and Blake what happened.”
She nodded and whirled around to run away from the latest trouble that had found me. A few of the men made to chase after her, but I raised my hands. “She’s a servant girl, nothing more. She has no business with this.”
They relaxed a bit.
I smiled brightly, putting bravado on like war paint. “So where is Ferrid Abdul’s tent?” I wanted to run, but I wasn’t stupid. I was a woman in a country dominated by men. Not only that, I was in the middle of the fucking Sahara desert. Exactly where was I going to run to? Nowhere fast. So I played along and counted on Blake to save me.
The men didn’t answer me, but circled round and herded me away from the souk to a quiet, dark section of the tent city. Ferrid’s tent was on the outskirts of the camp and easily three times as big as any of the others. Potted palm trees stood in front of the main entrance, and, somehow, a fountain had been installed, gurgling as it rained water down into a little pool. I glanced at it as we passed by and was surprised to see koi fish swimming in languid circles.
The interior of the tent was similar to the one Blake had been given. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling while ornate oriental rugs covered the ground underfoot. There were divans and pillows as well, but I was not allowed to linger. The men hustled me deeper into the tent, back into a shadowed room.
“Sit,” one of the guys said gruffly.
I obediently settled into the first cushion I found, wondering what strange turn events would take now.
I didn’t have to wait long. Ferrid ducked into the room a moment later followed by a servant carrying a tray of steaming tea service. We waited in silence while the servant poured the tea, speaking only when he left.
“Ruby,” Ferrid said, my name rolling off his tongue like poetry.
“Ferrid.” I kept my voice cool even though my heart beat so hard, I could feel it hitting my ribs. “Why the surprise kidnapping?”
“You were not kidnapped.” A hint of stiffness crept into his voice.
I gave him a skeptical look. “Like your men would’ve let me walk away.”
“If they were rude I apologize.” He made a point of gulping his tea and I realized I was breaking custom by not drinking mine. I raised the cup to my lips and sipped it, grimacing at the scalding bitterness inside.
“I wanted to talk to you, Ruby. Alone.”
“So talk.” I set my cup aside.
He fell silent for a moment, staring at my cup. “How well do you know Blake?”
“Well enough to work for him, why?” I knew I should drink more tea, but I didn’t have the stomach for it just then. Ferrid would just have to cut me some slack. I was a foreigner after all.
The slender man leaned forward, his eyes intent.“Are you close on a more personal level?”
I frowned. What was he getting at? Why did everyone seem to care if I had sex with the guy? “That’s none of your business,” I said sharply.
He gave a small, unhappy smile. “I’m sorry to hear that. I had hoped for something different for you and I.”
“What do you mean by that?” I started to climb to my feet, intent on bowing out of our little meeting.
Before I could even get my feet under me, Ferrid snapped his fingers and rough hands grabbed me from behind. Ferrid spun his finger in the air. “Wrap her up and put her in the Jeep.”
I fought the hands holding me and screamed until Ferrid slapped me in the face with a sigh of exasperation. “Screaming will not save you, Miss Smith. I’m afraid nothing can.” His eyes studied me, searching my face.
“I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m here to work. Why are you doing this to me?” I couldn’t keep fear from filling my voice as I spoke. Pain rang through my cheek, the hands on my elbows were rough enough to bruise and once again I was in trouble.
“Unfortunately, Miss Smith, you are too close to Blake for me to let you live. Innocent women don’t tell me to mind my own business.” He smiled, but the expression was sad. “I had hoped to spare you this fate. You are beautiful.” Ferried touched my cheek with a finger. “We could have had something, but you are a risk I cannot take. I am not a man who can put his heart first.”
He switched to Arabic, barking out orders. My hands were tied behind me, my feet bound with rope after which I was dumped onto a large rug and rolled inside. I screamed and kicked but the carpet was as effective as a strait jacket. It also muffled my voice.
I was carried for several long minutes and then dropped onto a hard floor that hurt even through the carpet. A door slammed shut and I was alone. I survived the dark, sweaty prison I’d been stuffed into by getting angry. Really angry. I’d been mauled and hauled for the last time. From here on out I was going to kick men in the balls first and ask questions later. No more snatch and grab.
Even better, I would get a gun and a taser. I was tired of being defenseless, shoved back and forth between agendas that weren’t mine. As for Blake...I bit my lip. I’d known he was unreliable the second I’d overheard that conversation about Mara. He’d played me, but I’d also thought he wanted me. Thought he would come to my rescue. Instead, for a second time, he was going to walk away while I paid the price.
If I ever got out of this alive, he would be the first man I hunted down for a little revenge ball kicking. It was the least he deserved after everything he’d done to me.
I was done with him. For good. Damned though, if I didn’t cry about it. Ugly choking sobs that had tears and snot streaming down my face. Deep down, I wanted things to be different. I’d wanted to be in a romance, but somehow my life had ended up in a lousy action adventure story. One where the heroine was probably going to die. At that thought, I started crying for me. The life I would never live. The dreams that would never come true for me. I was thankful for the carpet which soaked up my broken heart and hid it from the rest of the world.
In the middle of my break down, I heard a door open then and something heavy fell on the floor next to me. I paused mid-sob and held my breath, straining my ears to catch what sound I could. All I heard was the turn of an engine and then I lurched inside my carpet prison as whatever they’d dumped me in began to move.
Once again I was being taken against my will to an unknown destination. This time though, no one wanted me to survive.
.
Chapter Sixteen
I drew my knees up to my chest and stared out into the empty desert. Fr
om the way the sun glinted on the dunes, I was pretty sure the heat was melting the sand into glass. My throat ached with thirst, my skin felt hot enough to fry an egg and sweat soaked my clothes. The night had been cold and I’d yearned for the heat. Now I wanted night back, but there were at least six more hours of frying to go.
Blake sat beside me, silent and brooding, sweat beading his skin like dew. As it turned out, he’d been that thump I’d heard. Ferrid had rolled him up, same as me and a good thing, too because Blake was the only reason I hadn’t suffocated inside that rug.
I tried to swallow, but couldn’t work up enough spit, so my voice came out in a rasp. “Will you at least tell me what we’re dying for?” Thinking of Lilli, I winced. She would pay the price as well for whatever Blake and I were mixed up in. I just hoped her death was quicker than ours. Being slowly burned to death by the sun had to rank up there on the list of ‘most unpleasant ways to die.’ Of course, Frankie probably wasn’t one to make death easy.
“Well, I guess there’s no point in secrets now.” Blake heaved a sigh. “Ferrid is part of a terrorist network that hit the government’s radar sometime last year. He’s been recruiting members, training them how to swindle people out of money and sending them to the US.”
“So he’s running a con man network of some kind?” I frowned at him. “That’s kind of a lame thing to die for.” Personally, I wanted there to be a nuke on the loose or an assassin after the president so my death would mean something.
Blake scanned the desert, a hand to his head to keep the sun out of his eyes. So far, we’d seen nothing but sand and more sand, but he kept looking as if that might change. “Well, the whole thing is, he takes US money and uses it to buy weapons and fund terrorist cells. He gets off on the idea of using our own money against us.” Blake squinted into the horizon, but it remained frustratingly empty. “He started with shell game gangs on street corners of major cities. Then he took his top performers and taught them how to run bigger cons.”
“Like what? Rob a bank?”
He shook his head. “No, like taking the life savings of retirees who had no family to look out for them. We’re talking about gangs of terrorists working in concert and funneling millions of dollars back to Ferrid.”
My jaw dropped. “Wow.”
“When he started buying missiles and sniffing around for chemical weapons, the NSA got involved and sent me to establish a cover.”
“Is that how you ended up at the Cirque?” My mind began to put some of the pieces together. I’d always thought he held himself apart at the Cirque because he was a magician, but now I understood his agenda had driven him to aloofness. At least up until the night we’d slept together.
“Yeah. I was establishing my cover so I could come here and infiltrate his network, but,” he shrugged and waved at the desert around us, “you see how well that went. He made us.”
“How?”
Blake frowned. “I don’t know. I spent months building my cover, making myself legit. The team was solid.” He fell silent, but his eyes spoke volumes.
“But I was a weak link, right?” I said it for him.
He looked at me, guarded. “Maybe.” His gaze intensified. “Are you the weak link, Ruby?”
I laughed, a bitter sound. “No. If I was, I wouldn’t be trapped here with you, would I?” I gave a half shrug. “Sorry.”
He grimaced. “I should be apologizing to you. If not for me, you wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded my agreement. He should be sorry. “So is anyone coming to save us?” I asked, unable to keep myself from hoping for a miracle.
Blake shook his head. “The team will scatter now that we’ve been exposed. They won’t be circling back for us. That’s not part of the protocol.”
“So we’re dead.” I made a gun with my fingers and pretended to shoot. “Lilli’s dead.” My dehydrated body managed to work up a tear. What a disaster. All because I’d had a crush on a magician. I would never listen to my libido again.
“Not yet,” Blake said.
I gave him a scathing look. “You got a plane in your back pocket or something?”
“No, but I have survival skills that will buy us some time.” He pulled up his pant leg, revealing a small camouflage pack fastened to his calf. “This has some basic survival gear in it.”
“I don’t see any water,” I said doubtfully.
“I can make water, just give me some time. But first,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s figure out where we are and how far we need to walk.”
“Wait. Your phone works out here?” I jumped to my feet. “We can call someone to come get us.”
“Yes it works, but I’m not calling anyone.” He held the phone close to his body as if afraid I would snatch it. “We don’t know how far Ferrid’s network goes. I’d rather stay under the radar. If they find out we survived, they’ll be sure to shoot us first next time.”
I didn’t like it, but what he said made sense. “What’s the plan then?”
He gestured for me to come over to him. “Come see.”
I dropped to the ground next to him and peered at his phone. He had a map of the desert onscreen, his finger tracing a route north. “Are you serious? We’re going to walk the Sahara?” My feet hurt just thinking of it.
“Yes, we’re only about twenty miles from the airstrip we flew into. Today we’ll camp in place and set up some water collection. Tomorrow we’ll hike until we get there.”
“Why can’t we just go?” I waved at the desert, impatient to leave it.
Blake shook his head. “We’re dehydrated. We won’t make it five miles let alone twenty. We need water first.”
I rolled my eyes. “We should have done this last night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “When all the animals, most of them poisonous, that survive out here are active? No, not a good idea.”
“We don’t have time to waste,” I said, frustrated. “I’ll take the heat, if you will.” I stood up and started to head down the dune we’d slept on the night before. The long, hot walk would suck, but I would do it. I had to. There was no time to do anything else.
Blake grabbed my hand and held me back. Giving me a disappointed look, he said, “The first rule of survival is never do something you can’t back out of. If we start walking now, we won’t be in a position to collect water later. The heat will suck us dry if we go off half cocked.”
“The human body can go three days without water,” I protested, pulling against his hand.
His grip tightened and he tugged me back. “Come on, Ruby, use some common sense. It’s too hot to last even ten hours. We have no reserves. We’ll cook to death. The smart thing to do is rest and wait until we have some water before we set out. Timing is everything.”
“And if the clock runs out?” I asked, frowning.
“It won’t.” His voice was curt, no-nonsense, but his tone softened when he said, “Just trust me. I got this.”
After a long moment of silence, I gave in. I was out of my depth and he had more experience. I should listen to him. “Well, you’re the expert, right?” At his nod, I said, “How can I help?”
He pointed to the desert around us. “Go find as many stones and rocks as you can.”
I didn’t move because he sounded crazy, like the desert had already parboiled his brain into heatstroke. “We’re going to get water from a stone?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. It’s desert survival one-oh-one. The nomads have done it forever and soldiers adopted the technique in World War Two.” Blake put his phone back in his pocket and beckoned me forward. “Here, put this on your head.” He pulled at the light scarf I’d bought at the souk. It had matched my caftan that night so I’d looped it around my neck as an accessory.
“But it’s hot.” I put a hand on my scarf, keeping him from taking it.
“In the desert, you must create your own shade.” He tugged the scarf away from me and placed it over my head. “Don’t take it off unless you enjoy
heat exhaustion.”
“If you say so.”
Blake grabbed my hand and gave it squeeze. “We’re going to be fine. I’ll get us out of here.”
“What about Lilli? Is she going to be fine?” I thought of his phone. “We should call them.”
“No. No phone calls. I don’t want anyone to know we’re alive right now. Frankie could easily be in Ferrid’s network.”
“So Lilli has to die?” I bit back a sob.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said quietly.
“You’re going to have to do better than hope.” I was yelling now and the vast emptiness of the Sahara swallowed my words, cutting them off before they could echo. I stormed off and started looking for rocks. Maybe I should throw a few at his head.
Blake didn’t comment on my outburst, and instead jumped up and down on the sand repeatedly. Why, I didn’t know. I kept an eye on him, wondering if he was doing some weird survival rain dance. A moment later he began digging, tossing handfuls of sand over his shoulder. While he dug, I lugged whatever rocks I found over to him. Some were small, but a few were as big as my hand. The small ones he tossed to the side, but the big ones he kept.
Finally, after my fifth trip, he said, “That’s enough. You can rest now.” He’d taken off his dress shirt and the t-shirt underneath--apparently the rule about creating shade didn’t apply to him. Every scoop of sand, caused his torso and arms to flex, emphasizing the lean curves of his body.
I watched him dig, half ashamed that, in such dire circumstances, I could still find him so damn attractive. I was mad at him. He was going to get me killed. Both statements were true, but they didn’t negate the fact that Blake was my kryptonite.
Deciding, I should stop torturing myself with the view of his lean body, I laid on the sand, pulling the scarf over my eyes. Fatigue weighed me down and the rhythm of his digging lulled me into a light sleep. My nap didn’t last long, though. Blake let out a loud shout and I bolted upright at the noise, alarmed. Pulling the scarf away from my face, I saw that he’d jumped out of the hole and was staring at…well, nothing in the sand as he slowly backed away. Had he lost his mind?
