by Ronie Kendig
“And you’d do well to come quietly and without resistance.”
Her spine stiffened with resolve. “I’m not going to do any—”
The presence of four tactical officers behind Mahmud snapped her mouth shut.
Mahmud glanced at the men, then brought his gaze back to hers. And smiled.
The checkpoint guard shouted to the others, waving the officers away and mumbling Sajjadi over and over. Shiloh's heart slowed as the heavy firepower dissipated.
“We’ve drawn enough attention.” Mahmud caught her arm and strode toward the front doors. As they passed through the glass, he released her but kept walking.
Suddenly, a hand slapped tape over her mouth. Suffocating darkness swallowed her as a hood slid over her head. A noose tightened around her neck. As her hands were yanked behind her back, she tried to scream past the tape. Hands lifted her from the ground. She wriggled and writhed, panic seizing her.
A sudden, sharp pain rammed into her head. She blacked out.
Hollow and distant noises seeped into her awareness. She moaned. Where was she? Why was it so dark?
Brilliance tore through her vision—a hood removed from her head, and with it went the disorientation. She’d been kidnapped. Taken … somewhere. Heat plumes writhed like dozens of snakes slithering through the desert. Shiloh cringed and squinted against the blaring white sand. She swept the area with her strained gaze. Several set of feet. Military tactical pants. Black shoes. Jeans.
“Are you hurt?”
The sound of that voice forced her to pause. Close her eyes. When she opened them, it took only a few blinks to clear her vision and see the man before her. She clenched her hands into fists. “What are you doing here?”
“It's not important why I’m here.” He had more salt than pepper in his hair now. His sweat-drenched navy shirt accented his striking blue-grey eyes. Eyes just like hers. “What's important is why you are here.”
Shiloh struggled for a breath not strangled by rage. “You never were good with openness and honesty, even with your own daughter.”
Stepping from the brutal sun, her father entered the tent. He bent over a small table, palms against the wood. She blanched at his posture—so hauntingly similar to an event fifteen years ago. Him, hands on her mother's coffin, silent, unemotional, uncaring.
Why? Why did he have to resurface now?
He pointed to a map on the table. “Take a look.”
She held her place. Did he really think she’d just obey? “All these years, and this is how you greet your only child?”
“Shiloh, this isn’t how I wanted things—”
“I’m sure seeing me is the last thing either of us wanted. I left because I didn’t want anything to do with you. That hasn’t changed.” She hated the searing retort, but the ka-thumping in her chest made it impossible to move or take back the words.
“You’re angry—”
“Really? What gave it away?”
He hung his head. “Look, I’d do anything for this to be different, for you not to be involved, but this is where we are.” He jabbed the table. “There's a lethal mission you’re entangled in.” He stared at her. “Are you with me?”
“No.” But curiosity had always gotten her into trouble. “What mission?”
He cast a glance behind her. Shiloh looked over her shoulder and stiffened at the sight of Mahmud.
“He's Sajjadi's son! Don’t trust him.”
“His identity is the very reason he's here. You might want to pay attention and figure out whose side you’re on.” He glanced back to the articles on the table. “Mahmud will take you to his father's camp. It's possible you’ll be interrogated, but Mahmud reassures me you won’t be tortured.”
“Why doesn’t that reassure me?” She gulped at the thought of going anywhere else with Mahmud. Was her father crazy, sending her away with the son of a known terrorist?
“Don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”
“Nobody can guarantee that. I might not be a spy, but I’m not stupid. No American is safe in Sajjadi's hands.”
“Your father is right,” Mahmud said as his lanky frame filled the hot tent. “The general intends to use you to accomplish his mission.”
His words seemed to comfort him as if they were an obvious answer to this dark problem. But the meaning was lost on her. She looked to her father, who might’ve done a lot wrong where she was concerned, but he wouldn’t intentionally put her in jeopardy.
Blue-grey eyes softened. “It means Sajjadi wants you alive. Shortly after you left India, Ali Abdul was arrested. With him imprisoned it's impossible for the Summit of the Agreed to go forward with their plan—”
“Which is?”
“To detonate a nuclear weapon in Kashmir in four days to frame India.”
“And he thinks I’ll finish that for him?” Shiloh scoffed.
“I would not laugh so easily,” Mahmud countered. “My father has a way of making the unwilling become very willing.”
“He's right.” Her father whipped out another page. “I’ve seen that man powerfully affect leaders in ways you couldn’t dream.”
“Sir,” a woman stepped into the tent, a baseball cap tugged over her brow. “The report just came in.”
Shiloh gaped at the familiar white-blonde hair and bruised green eyes. “Edie?”
A simple nod. “Shiloh.”
Her father turned to Mahmud. “Go with Edie. Give her any guidance you can.” He moved around the tables and came closer to Shiloh.
Mahmud hesitated, dark eyes bouncing between father and daughter.
A smile, one Shiloh had recognized since childhood as fake and concealing, filled her father's face. “I’d like a moment with my daughter.” He touched her shoulder. “Please.”
Instincts warned her to keep her mouth shut and body still.
“Sir.” Mahmud nodded and then left, leaving a clear impression he wasn’t happy.
Her father hurried back to his desk. “Okay, we don’t have much time.” He drew out a black case, ran his fingers over the silver combination number, smoothed a hand along the side, and then depressed more keys on the lock. Click! The lid opened.
His clear eyes pinned her. “Shi, come here.”
Although she wasn’t going to play his spy games, having intel never hurt. She moved around the desk.
A green digital readout blinked at them. “It is my estimation that Sajjadi will have you retrieve the second half of the launch codes.” He pointed to the readout where a series of letters and numbers glared at them in an angry red. “Got them?”
Just like that? He wanted her to play spy?
“Shiloh?”
“You’re serious. You want me to—”
“Do you have the code?”
She flashed her eyes at him. “Yes.”
“Good.” He slapped the case closed. “You’ll need to enter it—”
“No.” The word felt foreign, yet good. Maybe not strong enough. “No,” she said again, this time with more ferocity. “I’m not doing this.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“That's where you’re wrong. I’m not one of your recruits.”
His lips narrowed. “You’re my daughter, tangled in one of the deadliest confrontations this region—my territory— has seen in decades.” His eyes drilled into her. “Whether we like it or not, you’re on the grid.”
“Do you like it? I mean, all those years as a kid, is this what you were training me for?” Hard to breathe. “To guide me into this covert world of yours?”
“No.” His words bore the surprise and hurt she clearly read on his face. “What I taught you was to make sure you never got snatched again.” He shook his head. “I don’t like this any more than you, but it's done, decided. You’re playing.”
Heat infused her cheeks, fueling her anger. “No. I’m not.”
“For once in your life, look beyond your own interests.” Though the words were quiet, they packed a punch. His chest rose and fell quickly as he br
ought himself back under control. “Set aside that hatred you have pinned on me, and for once— just once—trust me. There's more to this world than you and me. Millions of lives are at stake.”
How could he do this? Stand there and act like they’d never missed a beat in their relationship. It had been fifteen years! Shiloh pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and turned away. Didn’t he care? Did he miss her? No, he didn’t give a rat's nest about how she felt or what she’d gone through. He wanted to put their past behind them so she’d bend to his will and become what she despised.
“You’re unbelievable. All these years you haven’t spoken to me, and now you’re standing there ordering me …” Her breathing deepened. “Ordering me to trust you?” The words cracked. Dust kicked up as she paced in front of his desk. “I’m not doing this. I’m not following your orders. I don’t care—”
“I’m not ordering you, Shi.” His soulful eyes stared. “I can’t believe how much you look like your mom.”
The words served as a line drive to her heart. “Don’t. Don’t bring her into this. I am not going to become like you. I hate you!” Tears threatened. She gulped back the swell of outrage. “All my life, you moved me around, ripping me from friends and schools. Then when you’re off playing hero, I’m in an overturned car watching Mom bleed to death.”
“Shiloh—”
“No!” Her pulse pounded through her skull. “I won’t do that to those I love. I won’t become a creature without a heart or conscience.”
He drew up, pain etched into the lines of his weathered face. “I did everything I could—”
“All you did was screw up my life!” Tears flowed harder, defying her every attempt to stop them. “You ruined me. You’re the reason I have seizures. I—” She covered her mouth as a sob wracked her body.
Quiet steps crunched on the sandy floor as he drew closer. “I owe you a thousand apologies. I’ll never forgive myself for the months you spent captive, the experiments that left you with seizures. Killing the man who did that to you didn’t erase the damage—or my fury.”
He balled his fists and bowed his head. “It's your choice, your right, to cling to that hatred. I beg your forgiveness for all the ways I’ve failed you.” He sighed. “But in the end, it doesn’t alter the fact that we’re in this together.”
A piece of her glacier-like hatred broke off and drifted away, unnerving her. He was tricking her, using this time just to get what he wanted—her cooperation.
Shiloh shook her head. “No.” She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Too easy. She wanted Jude Blake to hurt, to feel the stabbing pain of betrayal. “I won’t forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.”
With slumped shoulders, he returned to the table. He skimmed the pages in front of him. In that fleeting moment she saw something in her father she’d never seen before. Brokenness. Emptiness. A man who’d lost the woman he loved. Lost his daughter.
The thoughts surprised her. “Do you miss mom?” she whispered.
His blue-greys came to hers, streaked with heartache. “With every breath.” He laughed, his chin puckering as if he fought off tears. “You look so much like her. That fire in your eyes … that's Jirina.”
Jirina. It’d been so long since she’d heard her mother's name. She’d been a spy too. Maybe, just this once, Shiloh could honor her mother by doing something brave and heroic, the way her mom had done for many years. After all, her father said millions of lives were at stake, right? She couldn’t exactly walk away from that if she had the power to make a difference. But this time only. Never again. Bolstered by the thoughts, she composed herself.
“I won’t do this for you,” she mumbled. “But for mom.” Lip trembling, she sucked in a breath and batted the hair from her face. “What do I need to do?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Intel shows Sajjadi has half the codes already. We’ve got a plan, and I’ll be in place—”
“So, you’ll back me up.”
“Every step of the way.”
Shiloh nodded, amazed that his words comforted her, especially since she’d never trusted him before. “Go on.”
He looked at her. “Nobody can know about this.”
“You don’t trust Mahmud.”
“Not for a minute.” His gaze was steady and focused. “But I mean nobody, Shiloh. Not even Reece.”
Her chest spasmed. How did he know about Reece? “We aren’t on speaking terms.”
“You’ll see him again.” A smile marked with pain and sympathy pinched the corners of his eyes. “It's hard to be angry with someone you love when you’ll never see them again.”
Green Beret Camp
Northern India
Amid the dark shroud of night a shadowy figure emerged from the trees. “Knew you couldn’t walk away.”
Reece clapped his friend on the back as he entered the camp. “What's the latest?”
“Bad news.”
“Give it to me.”
“About two hours ago word came that Jude Blake was taken captive.”
Reece froze as the revelation bungeed through his mind, snapping back with a thousand-pound kick. How did that happen? Where did that leave Shiloh? “What's the plan?”
“Hit fast and hard.” Cole hiked up the hill toward the hub of the camp where the men knelt around the fire pit, packing gear, checking weapons, and whispering last-minute prayers. He tugged out a crinkled map and shone a flashlight on it. “Latest intel shows Sajjadi holed up in this warehouse north of the Gateway of India. Chopper will drop us at the pier. We’ll get him and get out.”
“Him? What about Shiloh?”
“There's no reason to believe she's there.”
“She was with Sajjadi's son. It's plausible—”
“Jude's our mission.”
“If Sajjadi has Jude, then he has Shiloh.” Reece ground his teeth. “I could kill Aiken. One simple task, and he couldn’t do it.”
Miller glanced toward the camp. Then turned away. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. She may not be my girl, but I liked her.”
Reece quirked an eyebrow.
Hands raised, Miller laughed. “Hey, Aras liked her and that monkey don’t like nobody.”
“No …” Glancing around the camp, Reece tried to determine what his buddy wanted to hide. “What's up?”
Chatter rose up from the south end of the camp. To Reece's surprise, he identified Brody Aiken stepping from a hut, laughing. Every muscle in Reece went rigid. He dropped his sack.
“Reece, don’t—”
His friend's curse was lost amid the wind rustling in his ears as he stomped toward Aiken.
The Brit turned, and his eyes widened.
Reece slammed a solid right cross straight into the man's face.
Crack!
With a hard uppercut, Reece brought the guy to his knees. Blood spurted from Aiken's nose.
He whimpered and coughed. “What's wrong with you?”
“One simple task, Aiken. Keep her safe.” Reece drew back, fisted his hand—
A hard weight barreled into Reece from the side, knocking him down. His head slammed into the dirt with a resounding thud. He wrestled the opponent.
Two more heavy thumps landed on him. He recognized the odds: three to one. Outgunned. Someone grabbed his arms and pinned him to the ground. His breathing heaved. He glared past his flaring nostrils, past the knee at the base of his throat to the man looming over him.
Miller glared down at him, a knee in Reece's throat. “You in control?”
Humiliation swirled through Reece. He closed his eyes. Gave a curt nod.
“Let him up.”
The two-ton boulders lifted. Reece sat up, slowly clenching and unclenching his fist. He spit to the side, air coming in short, staccato breaths. The release of pent-up anger had felt good. Too good. Arms propped on his bent knees, he sat watching the shadows from the fire dance over his pants.
Shiny loafers appeared in front of him.
Reece grunted when he met the fam
iliar expression of Director Ryan Nielsen. “Aiken did everything he could—”
“Don’t.” Picking himself off the ground, Reece cringed and held his side. “What are you doing up here anyway?” He eased onto a felled log next to Miller.
“I was there during Shiloh's questioning. Intel came in almost simultaneously with her escape that the hit against our people was professional.”
Reece snorted. “You people are—”
“Sajjadi's yacht is entering Mumbai Harbor,” Nielsen said.
Reece and Miller exchanged glances. Why would Sajjadi go inland? He couldn’t run if something went wrong.
“Chopper's coming,” Miller mumbled and removed himself from the tension.
“Jaxon,” Nielsen said. “I understand your anger—”
Reece jerked to his feet. When he saw Nielsen cringe, he patted the director's lapel. “You’re a good director, but you aren’t me. Just be glad I’m not going to repay you for your part in Shiloh's interrogation.”
“I didn’t lay a hand on her.”
“I know.” Reece let the sneer into his voice.
Ryan Nielsen didn’t have the guts to get his hands dirty, especially when it meant going against Jude Blake, America's top operative and regional director. The guy no doubt feared retaliation and losing said operative. And for that, Reece would be grateful—just this once—that Nielsen didn’t have a spine.
Shouldering his way past the grunt, Reece surveyed the men. In their countenance, he saw the raw determination that mirrored his own.
“Where are you going?”
Swiping the dirt from his face, he said, “I have a mission.”
“If you can’t free Jude, you know what you have to do.”
The objective was the highest possible. Such a well-connected agent simply had too much secret information: location of assets, identities of those who kept the balance of power in check, the missions no one knew about. His capture meant every man in this camp could be wiped out. Every operative this side of the world could die.
If they couldn’t drag Jude Blake to safety, they had to neutralize him.
“The kill order applies to his daughter too. If she's there and you can’t free her, Shiloh must be killed.”
