by Lynn Ames
The room went completely still. The air was heavy with the weight of Nassir’s words.
“Surely this woman has not committed a crime so heinous—”
Nassir cut his cousin off. “It is not ours to judge her or to question. We are charged only with carrying out an assignment.” Despite his own doubts and regrets, Nassir managed to say the words with conviction. “As I said, you are free to leave without prejudice. I will think no less of you.”
“The question is, will we think less of ourselves if we stay?” Nassir heard the mumbled comment from Faquir, a serious, quiet young herder from a neighboring village. He had been the last recruit and was brought in only as an extra body.
“I will need your answers before we leave this room. I want a perimeter set up, and I need to know how many men I have to work with. Also, there is a woman who may try to liberate the prisoner.”
“A woman?”
At the derisive tone, Nassir snapped. “I would not underestimate her. I am told she is very capable with a gun and should be considered dangerous.”
“What does she look like?”
“I do not know. I only know we have orders to shoot to kill if we see her.”
The men shifted uneasily. Finally, Faquir spoke up. “You are asking us to execute not one but two women?”
“Potentially, yes.”
“This is not what we agreed to do.”
“It is what will be done,” Nassir said. “Now, who among you wishes to leave?” None of the men responded, which only served to increase his irritation. “Do I have to ask each of you individually? I’ve already told you, there is no shame in walking away. Now, I ask one more time, are you with me?”
This time, Nassir’s question was greeted with eight hesitant yeses.
“Good. Set up the perimeter. I want every possible approach covered and a man on both entrances.” Nassir walked out without further comment. He closed the door behind him and returned to the office down the hall. If it was possible, his mood was even fouler than it had been when he arrived. In the end, he knew he could not ask these men to do what he would not. He would have to pull the trigger himself.
The first thing Vaughn spotted from their vantage point behind the back corner of one of the out buildings was the car parked directly outside the front entrance. Her heart dropped in counterpoint to the uptick in her pulse. Shit. Oh, shit. No, no, no.
Justine’s hand squeezed her shoulder and Vaughn twisted away. She hadn’t meant for her emotions to be that transparent. Justine persisted, gripping her harder this time. She was pointing to a spot in the distance.
“Sentry,” Justine whispered. “They wouldn’t need a sentry if Sage wasn’t still inside.”
It took a moment for the logic of Justine’s statement to sink in. Vaughn looked through the binoculars. She took in as much of the perimeter as she was able to from her hiding place. Three guards visible, and probably the corresponding number on the other side of the building. She’s right. If Sage were already dead, they wouldn’t bother. They’d have cleared out by now. Her pulse slowed minutely. She backed away and gestured for Justine to follow. They joined Jackson, who was leaning against the back of the hut.
“Okay,” Vaughn said. “Three armed Tuareg are visible from here. Sabastien said the building was symmetrical. I’m guessing there are another three on the other side.”
“Don’t forget that there are probably at least a couple more men inside,” Justine said.
“Right. So we’re most likely looking at eight or more. The six out here, plus a couple guarding Sage.”
“I like the odds,” Jackson said, loading a clip of bullets into one of the silenced Steyrs. Even the bullet cartridges were specially designed to muffle sound. “But how do we know your friend is still alive?”
“Sage must be alive, otherwise they’d be gone,” Vaughn said, ignoring her own lingering doubts. “Apart from that, the only other thing we know for certain is that Tuareg man was far enough ahead of us that we never saw him.”
“Or we lost sight of him when we were walking. Remember, the road wasn’t in our sightline the whole time,” Justine said.
“Since I don’t think we’re going to get close enough to check the hood of his car for heat, let’s assume he’s been here a while and there’s no time to spare,” Vaughn said. “We need to pick off all six outside men in quick succession, before they have a chance to raise an alarm.”
“We’re using .300 Whisper cartridges in silenced barrels. They will not even know what hit them, and neither will anyone else until it is too late,” Jackson said, affixing a long range scope to the rifle.
“Right,” Vaughn agreed. “Aim for the head. Get a side angle and hit them in the ear if you can. I doubt they have vests on under their robes, but I don’t want to take any chances. We’ve got no room for mistakes. I’ll take the one to the left of the door. Justine, you get the one on the right. Jackson, you take out the perimeter man. Let’s do it on a count of three. Then we run like hell to the back of that outbuilding,” Vaughn pointed to a structure some forty feet away, “and quickly assess the positioning of the other three men.”
Vaughn was anxious to get going. Sage was in there, and if she died before they reached her, she would never forgive herself.
“You know we haven’t accounted for Torgensen,” Justine said.
“If that is not his car then he is behind us. Hopefully he will be busy fixing a flat tire right now,” Jackson said.
“If not…” Vaughn said, “if Torgensen is here, we’ll know soon enough and we’ll adjust accordingly.”
“Agreed,” Justine said, loading the third Steyr and checking the scope.
Vaughn sighted the target as she waited for Justine to finish her preparations. The front door was some one hundred yards from where they crouched, well within range of their weapons. “Inside, we use the silenced Sig Sauers. Chances are any noise will echo in there.”
The three of them removed the Sigs from the waistband of their pants and loaded clips for them as well. Vaughn shifted her shoulders to adjust the Kevlar vest so that its weight was distributed evenly across her back. She noted that Jackson and Justine were doing the same thing.
“Okay.” Vaughn looked into Justine’s eyes, then Jackson’s. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
Hang on Sage. We’re almost there. Although she wasn’t one to pray, Vaughn mumbled, “Please, God, let her be okay.”
“She will be,” Justine said in a voice loud enough for only Vaughn to hear.
Vaughn nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no room for emotion in the middle of a mission. She shoved her fears to a remote compartment in her brain. It was time to go to work.
She moved into position and waited for Justine and Jackson to do the same. Both acknowledged Vaughn’s nod when they had their weapons aimed and ready. “One, two, three.”
The door opened and Sage blinked. This time there was only one man, and he did not shine the flashlight in her eyes. Backlit as he was by the naked bulb in the hallway, she could see that he was tall, thin, and carried a gun with a long barrel.
Sage’s hands began to tremble. The man held no food and, apart from the traditional head veil, made no effort to hide his face. Despite the oppressive heat, her teeth began to chatter.
He stared at her for what seemed like a very long time.
“Dr. McNally.”
“Y-you know my name?”
“Yes, although I do not know much about you beyond that.” His French was passable.
“Why was I taken? Why am I here?” Sage’s voice broke from nerves. There was something about this man, something about the way he held the gun with such ease. But there also was something akin to sympathy in his eyes, which glinted in the light when he turned slightly to look behind him as he did now. He said something over his shoulder in dialect to someone Sage couldn’t see.
When he turned back to face her, he was silent for
several seconds, and Sage wondered if he would answer her.
“In all honesty, I do not know the whys. You might look inside yourself for the answer.”
“In-inside myself?”
“I came to see you personally…” The man’s voice trailed off, as he seemed to reconsider what he wanted to say. For a second, Sage thought he looked indecisive. “I came in here because I will ask no other to do what I must do,” he said in a rush. “And because I want to apologize to you directly. When I was ordered to detain you, I was told only to hold you until further notice. I was not ever told that the assignment would change, although perhaps I should have anticipated that eventuality.”
Sage nodded dumbly, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. His eyes were focused on the wall behind her, as if he had forgotten she was sitting there.
“My men covered your eyes because it was important that you not be able to identify them after you were released.”
The import of his words sank in, and Sage’s breathing began to quicken. You’re not hiding yourself now. Her gaze dropped to the gun in his hand. It doesn’t matter if I know what you look like. I won’t be able to tell anyone if I’m dead. The trembling in her hands extended to the rest of her body. Oh, God. No!
He moved toward her and spoke more softly. “My name is Nassir. I think you should know the name of the person who unjustly takes your life. I want you to know this was not my choice, and I am truly sorry for what I must do.”
Sage tried to raise her arms, and the pain in her shoulder wrenched an involuntary scream from her. “Wait!”
Torgensen noted the three dead bodies around the front of the building. “Well, that answers one question. Elliott is definitely here, or at least she was.”
The positions of the bodies indicated all three had been hit in the head and each of them before he’d had time to open his mouth or raise a weapon. Torgensen’s respect for Elliott grew. He would have to handle this one with care. His smile was predatory. This could be fun.
Of course, it would have been more fun to watch Elliott in action, which would have happened if he hadn’t taken a wrong turn out of Timbuktu and ended up four-wheeling off-road through the desert instead of staying on the road.
Torgensen used his binoculars to check the tire tracks leading up to the building—there was only one set, and it led in, not out. There were no footprints heading away from the facility, either. “No, she’s still here.”
Torgensen recalled with disdain his strict instructions not to interfere with anything else that might be happening. Fine then, he would watch from a distance and wait for the others to fail.
He used his hands to dig himself a pit in the sand with a direct sightline to the front door. Once Elliott had dispatched all of the guards, there would be no reason for her to be cautious; therefore, it seemed most likely she would come out the front. Even if she did not, it would not matter. Eventually, she would have to come that way. She and McNally would each walk directly into a bullet from his M-16.
Vaughn, Justine, and Jackson stepped over the guard lying directly in front of the north entrance. So far, everything had gone exactly to plan. Six men down, each taken out with a single shot, and not a sound beyond the thud of bodies hitting sand.
They paused in front of the back door. Vaughn shifted the strap for the assault rifle until the gun rested across her back. She pulled the Sig Sauer from her waistband and waited until the others followed suit.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I open the door, Jackson, you get whoever’s behind it. Then you two flank me as we go in. No words once we’re inside. Keep your eyes sharp—hand gestures only.”
Justine and Jackson nodded their assent as they checked silencers and ammunition clips. Vaughn mouthed the count to three and, with one fluid motion, shot out the lock to the door while shoving it open hard with her foot. Her foot met some resistance, as though the door had hit something solid, and she indicated with her head that someone had likely gone down behind it.
Jackson flew past Vaughn, gun raised. He leaned over and put a bullet between the eyes of the man who was attempting to regain his balance.
That was when Vaughn heard it—a blood-curdling scream that felt like a shot of adrenaline in her heart. Sage. Frantically, she motioned Justine and Jackson to watch for others as she sprinted down the hall, following the direction of Sage’s voice. Too far. She’s too far away.
Then Vaughn heard a shouted, “Wait!”
The single word from Sage propelled her forward at lightning speed. As she spied the open doorway less than five feet in front of her on the right side of the hall, she felt a bullet whiz past her ear. She barely looked up in time to see a man in front and to the left of her go down, a neat hole blossoming in his forehead. Without breaking stride, she motioned to Justine for her to take Jackson and check the rest of the building.
Vaughn reached the opening two steps later. She dropped to one knee in the doorway even as a man whirled toward her, gun in hand. She had less than a second to register the sight of Sage, cowering on the floor behind him, her eyes wide with terror.
Vaughn’s first shot sent the man’s weapon flying across the room. The second hit him in the kneecap and had him howling in pain and writhing on the floor. She barely heard Justine behind her.
“All clear, Vaughn.”
She nodded her head and said softly, “Take him to another room. Find out what he knows. Then kill him.” She never took her eyes off Sage.
As soon as Justine moved into the room and secured the man, Vaughn put her Sig Sauer away, dropped the rifle off her shoulder, and closed the last steps between her and Sage. She dropped to the floor and gathered Sage gently in her arms.
“I’ve got you. No one can hurt you now. No one will ever hurt you again.” Sage trembled against her.
After several moments, Vaughn pulled back far enough to take Sage’s face in her hands. Her trained eyes took in the bruising around Sage’s eyes and temple. She stroked Sage’s face and hair, her fingers feeling for contusions at the same time.
“Hi. Boy, am I g-glad to see you.” Sage’s voice was thick and unsteady when she finally spoke.
“Not as glad as I am to see you.” Vaughn leaned forward and kissed her forehead and nose.
“He— He was g-going to k-kill me.”
“I know, honey. It’s over. He’s gone now.”
“T-there are more of them.”
“Not any more.” The child-like tone of Sage’s voice broke Vaughn’s heart. “No one can hurt you now. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen. I promise.”
She reached into a pocket of her vest and found a handcuff key. Vaughn hoped a bit of levity would take the edge off Sage’s fear. “Let’s get these off you, okay?” She pointed to the cuffs on Sage’s wrists. “I’m not into kinky.”
“No? Color me shocked.” Sage smiled weakly.
Good girl, Sage, you haven’t lost your sense of humor. You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. “That’s it, keep making fun of me.” Vaughn used the key to remove the cuffs.
“Thank you,” Sage said. “Thank you for rescuing me. I knew you’d come.” She launched herself into Vaughn’s arms. “Argh!” Immediately, she crumpled against Vaughn.
“What, what is it?” Vaughn heard the hissed breath that followed the scream. She pulled back far enough to see the grimace on Sage’s face and the pallor of her skin, visible even in the semi-darkness. Tears leaked from the corners of Sage’s eyes. Vaughn’s attention moved from Sage’s face to her body. She saw immediately the odd angle of Sage’s arm. “Your shoulder’s dislocated.”
“I know,” Sage said through clenched teeth. “I j-just wasn’t brave enough to b-bang myself into the wall to f-fix it.”
“That doesn’t really work, just so you know.”
“Oh.”
“But I have someone with me who can fix it for you. Come on, let’s get you out of here. Can you walk?”
“I t-think so.”
; “I’ll help you.” Vaughn gently put her arms around Sage’s waist and pulled them both to their feet.
They stood for several minutes, Vaughn holding Sage, and Sage burrowing against the safety of Vaughn’s solid presence.
Vaughn could feel their hearts beating against each other. She closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks that with Sage, at least, she’d been in time. Sage whimpered against her.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay.” Softly, she stroked Sage’s back until the trembling subsided.
Vaughn didn’t know yet who it was, but whoever was responsible for this would pay—with their lives. She wouldn’t rest until it was done.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His leg was on fire, his hand throbbed where the bullet had nicked it, and he was fading in and out of consciousness. I will not have to endure much more. Soon my time will be over, and I can rest.
“I’ll ask you again. Who do you work for?”
Nassir closed his mouth on a scream as the big man poked his finger into the wound.
“She is asking you nicely. I suggest you answer her. We can keep you alive and in a great deal more pain than you are in now. Or we can put you out of your misery.”
Nassir clenched his teeth. It wasn’t that he felt any particular allegiance to Dumont. It was that he was a warrior, and he would die with honor. He would not sell out like a common rat.
Again, the finger poked at the place where his kneecap once had been. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as tears streamed down his face. “I,” he ground out, “am impervious to pain.”
“Is that so?” The big man asked, squeezing his injured hand.
Nassir panted to control the agony. “Yes.”
“Whoever you’re protecting, do you honestly believe they would do the same for you?” The woman asked the question softly.
