by Lisa Pietsch
Jason jumped in, “…while we're actually planning to kidnap Vince back.”
“So now we go to Saudi Arabia. You call the jet. I’ll call my driver.” Sarah reached for her phone but Will stopped her with a gentle hand on hers.
“No. Security is tight there and that works to Nikolai's benefit. It'll be easier for us to fly into Dubai. The real estate market there has taken a major dump so we can go in looking like investors, get the royal treatment and nobody's going to question why we're there. Chris already made reservations at the Burj al Arab, and he and Brian will meet us there. We leave in the morning.”
Jason raised a pensive finger. “That's all well and good, and props on putting this all together while Sarah and I had our salads, but we're gonna need gear. We're gonna need weapons. How are we going to get all that shit into Dubai?”
“We aren't.” Will's eyes sparkled. “It's already there.”
“How?”
“Vince's island.”
Sarah gasped. “He really does have an island?” She blinked slowly as she tried to wrap her brain around the fact that her boyfriend owned an island.
“We’ve used it a few times for stopovers while we were doing arms deals.” Will nodded. “It’s got everything we’ll need.”
“Excellent.” Jason attacked his steak as though his life depended on it. He always had a hankering for steak right before a mission so why should this be any different?
Eat up, Jase. Vince is going to need all the help he can get and you are definitely an army of one when you’re well fed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sarah woke to yet another sunny day it Italy. The sleepless night did nothing to ease the ravages of stress but Will needed the few hours to make phone calls, transfer money and prepare for a mission that was completely off the books.
This is all wrong. Here I am living in the lap of luxury with everything I have ever wanted, and the two men who freely gave of themselves to me are worse off than before they met me. Angelo is dead and Vince is missing.
Sarah slipped on a smart black dress and the pearls Vince gave her. She could honor them both.
She closed the suitcase she’d packed the night before and stowed the last of her toiletries in the square Louis Vuitton case. She slung her carry-on bag over her shoulder, took a piece of luggage in each hand and walked slowly down the stairs. She made a point to take in all the elegance and beauty that represented her freedom from material want. Will and Jason’s bags were already stacked neatly on the marble floor of the entryway. The antique table looked less festive now, topped with the eighteen-inch marble vase that stood cold and empty, without flowers.
She arranged her bags by Will and Jason’s and walked into the kitchen. She braced herself with her good hand on the marble countertop and sighed as she admired the view from the window.
Just stay alive, Vince.
She poured a cup of coffee, steeled herself with a deep breath and joined the guys on the patio.
They both stood and Jason pulled a chair from the table for her.
Ah, chivalry is not dead.
“Morning, Sarah.” Jason smiled.
“Good morning, Jase. Morning, Will.”
“Good morning. How’s the shoulder?”
Sarah sat and took a sip of her coffee. “Not bad. I can carry a little weight without any problem. My physical therapist says I can get back to working out now.”
Will nodded. “That’s good.” They finished their coffee in silence.
Just as Sarah put her empty cup down on the table, Isabella came out to announce their car was waiting.
“Grazie, Isabella.”
“Have a good trip, Miss Stevens.”
Busting my boyfriend out of a compound in Saudi Arabia where he’s being held by one of the world’s biggest arms dealers. Not exactly, the kind of trip a girl wants to make. Sarah nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Isabella. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.” She stood and walked through her new home for the last time in what may be a long while.
Who knows how long I’ll be gone?
The guys walked outside with the luggage as Sarah took one last look at her beautiful home.
That taste of liberty was wonderful. We made some sweet memories, Vince. Thank you, Angelo.
She wiped a lone tear from her cheek and sighed.
As though a promise to the man she loved and the other who had given her so much, a whisper escaped her lips. “Somebody’s gonna die.”
Look for the next installment in Sarah Stevens’ adventures coming soon:
Freedom’s Promise
When a CIA operative is captured nobody is ever sent to save him. Seasoned paramilitary operative Vince Hennessee knew the risks but the only way he could move on with the life he had planned with Sarah Stevens was to put down Nikolai Federov once and for all. What he didn’t expect was that Nikolai’s guys would find him first. Now it is up to Sarah and the rest of the American Swift team from Task Force 125 to find Nikolai and put together an armed strike force that can take out the Russian and rescue Vince before it is too late.
Chapter One
Vince Hennessee woke with a start and gasped to find himself sitting in a heavy wooden chair, unable to move. He fought the urge to panic and took a deep breath to calm himself. He tried to kick his feet but they wouldn't budge.
Rolling his shoulders, he tugged at the bindings on his wrists.
Duct tape?
He squinted through the dark and made out a few furnishings with the small bit of available natural light coming from the windows. Blinking hard, he wondered what they’d drugged him with. Fighting to focus and remember what happened, he could not will the mental fog away.
Where am I, and how the hell did I get here?
Vince squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to remember what had happened. Images of being abducted at the airport in Italy flitted through his mind. He’d been on his way to Moscow to meet with Mark Davidson to track down Nikolai.
Somebody hit me, drugged me, and brought me here. But where is here?
Vince knew he had to stay calm, assess the situation, and not do anything foolish. His years as a Recon Marine, seeing more than his share of action in world hot spots, had taught him to remain calm above all else. His focus was clearer now that the effects of the drug were wearing off and more light shone through the windows.
Sunrise somewhere.
He scanned the room to see mother-of-pearl and gold inlaid on the sideboard, a white marble floor, dark Persian rugs, and Byzantine style windows.
The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as somewhere outside and far off a Muezzin began the Muslim call to prayer. He’d always found the chanting at prayer times moving, but today it was just eerie.
I'm in the Middle East again, but where?
Vince remembered the last time he’d been held hostage in the Middle East. He quickly locked the memory in the back of his mind and forced himself to focus on the present.
Breathe steady. Stay calm. Look for an escape.
The latch clicked on a door somewhere behind him. Every muscle tensed involuntarily. He breathed deeply to calm his nerves.
A drop of sweat raced from his right temple to his jaw.
Stay calm.
