The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection

by Carolyn McCray

  They had been a distraction. The watch. The sex. Everything had been meant to keep his attention diverted to the south.

  Which meant something that really deserved his attention was happening not to the south. He brought his scope around to the north, checking those buildings. Most were dark this late at night. Only a few had lights flickering on.

  If the sniper were here, he would not set up in the lighted offices.

  He would be in the dark. Watching. Waiting for his shot.

  And the best shot? Right at Brandt’s back.

  Quelling panic, Davidson scoured the area for any sign of the sniper. If Davidson waited for the guy to take a shot to find out where he was, Brandt would be dead.

  There! The faintest-green reflection from a night scope. Davidson didn’t have time to set up a kill shot. He only had time to prevent one.

  Davidson fired, shattering the window. He fired again and again in no particular pattern. He just needed the sniper unable to aim as the plane moved out of range, even for a sniper rifle.

  Then a bullet whizzed past his head.

  Good, Davidson thought as he rolled over onto his back, lying flat against the roof’s ledge. The sniper must have given up on the plane and decided to take out his frustration on another sniper. Fine by Davidson.

  Now to get out of here and head to the rally point in Sudan, where they wouldn’t exactly need travel papers. Cash, American cash, would get them off the continent without a paper trail.

  He was good to go, until he heard the rev of a jet engine. Not one jet engine, but two.

  Crap.

  Davidson took a chance and brought his scope over the ledge. Sure enough, two F-16 fighters were streaking in their direction. They must have launched from the Abu Suwayr Air Force Base. Whether the Disciples had tipped the Egyptians off or the government assumed this assault on the German building was the result of political unrest, their plane was in trouble.

  Real trouble.

  * * *

  Rebecca ignored Vakasa as the little girl tugged on her jibab. She was too busy worrying about Brandt still up on the wings. Why the hell didn’t he just get into the plane like any other sane person?

  “Damn, I wish I had access to the Internet,” Lopez grumbled next to her. Rebecca really didn’t want to know why. However, the corporal told her anyway. “I really, really, really need to know the world’s longest flight with a guy on your wings. Come on, somebody figure it out.”

  “No matter what it is,” Talli stated, “we will not be able to challenge it.”

  “What do you—”

  Lopez’s protest was drowned out by two jets streaking overhead. Their turbulence rattled the plane down to its bolts.

  “That is not good,” Lopez said with an actual straight face. He wasn’t kidding. Lopez was actually worried.

  Rebecca’s stomach plummeted. They were being hunted by the Eygptian Air Force and Brandt was on the wings. There was not time to worry or throw a tantrum or anything. There was only time to plan.

  “What are our options?” Rebecca asked.

  None of the men answered.

  “Guys?” Rebecca urged. “There are always options. Right? I mean, that’s what you always say.”

  “Oh, we’ve got an option,” Lopez said.

  “What?”

  Lopez didn’t answer, though. Levont did. “We land.”

  “And?”

  Talli was the one who finished the thought. “We surrender ourselves.”

  “You have got to be kidding me?” Rebecca shook her head. After the shoot-out at the building? And what about Vakasa? After what happened to that reporter during the riots? Rebecca shuddered, she physically shuddered, pulling the girl tight next to her.

  “No, sorry, that isn’t good enough.”

  “Chica, give me some ideas here,” Lopez said as the jets made another pass, this time lower. They hadn’t shot yet, but the radio was squawking with orders. They were in Arabic, but it was pretty clear they were saying. “Land or get shot down.” The only reason they hadn’t fired already was to wait until they got out over the desert to avoid civilian casualties. However how rather callous to civilian deaths the government had become, Rebecca wasn’t sure how long they could count on that to protect them.

  This was what Brandt was so damned good at. Seeing an impossible situation, then figuring out a way to thread the needle through it. Unfortunately, Brandt was on the wings.

  Next to her, Vakasa clapped, pointing to the east. “Valo dango!”

  “Light show? Is that what she said?” Levont asked. Rebecca wasn’t sure, since she was pretty certain Vakasa was speaking in Welsh and Finnish.

  Almost against her will, Rebecca followed the girl’s arm. In the distance, the Great Pyramid and Sphinx were illuminated in bright greens and reds. It was the nightly laser light show that played out against two of the greatest historic monuments ever built. However, it really didn’t help them.

  Then Brandt’s face came over the front of the wing. His features upside down, he was shouting something, but who could tell what it was?

  “Light show!” Lopez said as Vakasa clapped. “I think he’s agreeing with her.”

  “You’re just imagining things,” Talli stated, but Rebecca wasn’t so sure.

  “No,” she said, trying to read Brandt’s upside-down lips. “He is saying light show.”

  She tried to follow his logic. Why go there? They would scatter the crowd.

  That was it!

  “Lopez, head there!”

  Without even waiting for an explanation, Lopez course corrected, turning them due east toward the pyramid.

  Levont’s hearty laugh filled the aircraft. “He wants us to land, get those people on their feet, then blend in with the crowd.”

  Rebecca sighed, glad that someone else had come to the same conclusion. It was such a long shot that they shouldn’t even be trying it, yet the upside-down Brandt nodded vigorously, then disappeared. Apparently satisfied that they were headed in the right direction.

  Vakasa clapped again. “Valo dango!”

  “Yes, baby,” Rebecca said, pulling her into a hug, “we are going to the light show.”

  Although, she seriously doubted if it was in the way Vakasa had hoped.

  * * *

  Brandt clung to the plane as it sped toward the pyramids. The jets buzzed again, this time so close Brandt was pretty damned sure he wouldn’t need a haircut for the next three weeks.

  The light show played out starkly against the night sky. It truly was a spectacular sight. Somehow the pyramids looked even more majestic than they did during the day. The history of Egypt played out across their surface.

  And thankfully, it was a tourist haven. There were hundreds of seats filled. Brandt hated endangering them, but he seriously doubted the F-16 would fire into that crowd. The international incident that would cause? Their plane making an emergency landing there was bad enough. The Egyptian government seriously didn’t want tourist deaths added on top of that.

  He gripped even harder as the plane made its steep descent. Lopez, as always, was thinking ahead. If they had descended any earlier, the jet fighters may have shot them down just to keep them from reaching the event.

  Even now, the jets came in low and hard, trying to force them down.

  Lopez held steady even though the tiny plane, never built to take the kind of punishment the corporal could deal, shook violently. Brandt had a bird’s-eye view of their landing. Not that even a bird would be stupid enough to try what they were trying.

  Someone in the crowd must have heard their approach. The man turned and pointed.

  Thank God. They were almost on top of the crowd. They needed them to disperse. A hue and cry went up as Lopez brought them just over the desert floor. A blur of people scattered, tipping over their chairs, as the plane touched down, bounced…hard, then went back up again. Brandt’s sweaty palms nearly gave out as his lower body slid back and forth across the wings. Those twin-engine
prop blades only a few inches from his feet.

  Brandt pulled himself as tightly to his belly as he could as they touched down again, bouncing again, landing again, bouncing again, until they crashed into the rows of white folding chairs. The blades chewed up the plastic, sending debris flying in all directions. A lot apparently into his back and arms.

  Then they were on the ground, really on the ground this time, rolling forward. Lopez cut the engines and hit the brakes, hard. And there was just no way Brandt could hang on. As the plane came to a stop, Brandt flew forward, over the nose of the plane, and crashed into the front row of chairs.

  His shoulder hit the sand, finally bringing him to a stop as well.

  Brandt rolled over onto his back as the sound of rattling machinegun fire filled the air. Guess the Egyptians weren’t as worried about bad press as he’d hoped. The others fled the plane as bullet holes tore into the thin metal.

  Grunting, brushing plastic off his back, Brandt rose.

  No rest for the weary.

  * * *

  Rebecca kept a tight hold of Vakasa’s hand as they ran from the plane. The crowd wasn’t much farther ahead. They should have been able to blend in before the jets made their next pass. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, expecting Brandt to be hot on their heels. Instead, he was running in the opposite direction.

  Why the hell would he go that way?

  Then the high-pitched squeal of the other plane explained why.

  Another fighter jet, new to the hunt, honed in on Brandt, firing at his heels. Dust kicked up, chewing up the sand.

  “Brandt!” she screamed, but he kept running.

  “Damn it! Change of plans!” Lopez shouted next to her. “Get the girl to safety!” he said, pushing her toward the crowd. “We’ll get him!”

  Before the men could head out after Brandt, Vakasa squirmed out of Rebecca’s hold and ran across the desert.

  “Thor!” she called out.

  “No!” Rebecca yelled, but it did no good.

  The men fired up at the jets as they all raced across the desert. The pyramid was still blanketed in reds and greens as scenes of the building of the great monuments played on despite all the chaos.

  Vakasa was fast. Like, crazy fast. She caught up to Brandt, then passed him, heading straight for the pyramid’s entrance. The little girl stopped at the tomb’s entrance, waving as if she expected Lopez to take a vacation photo. Rebecca was sure that he would want to. However, he was a little busy trying to keep the jets from mowing them down.

  Brandt reached the entrance first, scooping Vakasa up into his arms. He made to head toward them, but Rebecca waved him forward. Using what little lung capacity she had left after the sprint, Rebecca shouted, “No! Go inside.”

  There was no way they could make it back to the crowd. It had way too much of a head start, and the only cover was that pyramid. Brandt looked like he was going to fight her on it. After all, it would trap them inside. However, Vakasa wiggled out of his arms and fled into the darkness.

  Brandt held out his hand, but not to Rebecca. “A gun!”

  Levont supplied him with one. As bullets pelleted the stone, the point man led them into the pyramid. He swept his light from side to side.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Just go down,” Rebecca said. This shaft of limestone went down at about a thirty-degree angle until there was a juncture.

  Half-sliding, half-running, they made their way to the T. One shaft went up into the king and queen’s burial chambers. The other continued downward to a subterranean chamber that was oddly incomplete. Scholars still debated the use of such a chamber.

  “Which way?” Brandt asked, puffing air himself.

  With the roar of the jets outside dampened by the walls, Rebecca cocked a head, trying to hear the patter of little feet. However, there was nothing. Just the sound of their harsh breathing.

  Which way would Vakasa have choosen? Which way would a little girl have run? Or more aptly, which way would a supposed Messiah have choosen?

  Either way, up would be the most obvious.

  Rebecca pointed down. “I think she went below surface.”

  “Good enough for me,” Brandt announced as Levont made his way down the limestone passage.

  “Shouldn’t we split up?” Talli asked. “Cover both options?”

  Brandt shook his head. “If we go down…”

  “We go down together,” Lopez agreed.

  Rebecca wished just once that going down wasn’t the most likely option.

  * * *

  “Holy shit!” Stark announced, pointing to one of the many news channels he had on his screen.

  Grainy cell phone footage showed a biplane landing near the pyramids, disrupting the popular light show. Oh, and did she mention that there was a man clinging to the wings? There was no doubt who was flying that plane or who was hanging on.

  Bunny crossed her arms. “So does this qualify for the Disciples knowing where Brandt and the others are?”

  “I do think this might qualify for an event that allows us to break radio silence,” Emily added.

  Prenner still frowned. “I know what you two want, but my brass is never going to authorize us stepping in.”

  “Just call Brandt,” Bunny suggested as she watched the group run inside the pyramid. Where the hell did they think they were going? Every passage within the tomb was a dead end. Of course, as jets apparently streaked overhead, looking for a target, a pyramid was as good a place to hide as any.

  Finally, the lieutenant gave the nod. Stark keyed in the commands, pushing his earpiece farther into his ear. He tilted his head. “No joy. They aren’t responding to my ping.”

  “Try Davidson,” she said, counting off the people who had entered the temple. Only six. And no skinny-assed white boy.

  Stark typed rapidly. “Nope.”

  Bunny chewed on her lip. It made sense the others didn’t respond. She could remember the press of those tunnels. The limestone was probably blocking the signal. Davidson, though? If he were true to form, he should be set up somewhere along the periphery of the Giza pyramid complex.

  Unless he didn’t realize they were going to land near the light show. Come to think of it, that didn’t sound exactly like a pre-calculated rally point. So Davidson was in the wind. Or he was…

  Nope, she wasn’t going down that road.

  If he was alive, why wasn’t he answering?

  CHAPTER 16

  ══════════════════

  Giza, Egypt

  9:42 p.m. (CAT)

  “Il suo bene,” Davidson said. “It’s okay” in Italian. Yet the three sweaty men still advanced. He’d already tried Arabic, Farci, and even Armenian, yet the men didn’t seem to speak any of the most common languages in Egypt.

  His only solace was that he was pretty sure these men were not Disciples. Dressed in near rags and smeared with urban detritus, they seemed to be street thugs. Three street thugs with knives. Sure, Davidson could shoot, but that would advertise his location to not only the Egyptian police who were crawling all over the area, but the Disciples who must have descended upon the area since Lopez’s little circus landing.

  The men looked like they came prepared to loot. A common occupation these days in Egypt. Some gangs were even accused of fomenting riots just so they could loot afterward.

  Now, though, these men had a far more valuable prize in sight. An American. An armed American. How much would the government pay as a bounty? Or how much could they ask as ransom from the US? Either way, it wasn’t looking so good for Davidson. He needed to get out of this situation quietly and quickly.

  Neither of which looked very likely at the moment.

  Davidson secured his rifle onto his back and pulled a knife out of its sheath on his leg. The men brazenly smiled. Davidson pulled a second knife from his belt. Holding both weapons in the blade-back position, Davidson nodded to the men.

  Funny, their smiles faded. They were u
sed to ambushing tourists. Mugging them for their valuables, then running. Not a one of the three seemed any too happy about going up against a trained man. Yet the odds were still on their side, so they advanced.

  Davidson danced back, waiting for one of them to commit.

  The largest of the bunch grunted, shoving the smallest guy forward. The man stumbled, righting himself. He glared over his shoulder yet found no support there. Davidson flipped one of the knives, caught it, aiming it forward.

  The guy must have decided to just dive in, as he charged at Davidson. He sidestepped, dragging the knife’s edge along the man’s arm. Davidson could have gutted him, easily, but the less mess the better. The man grasped at his bleeding arm, wavering to the left, then to the right.

  Davidson grabbed him by the collar and shoved him back to his gang. Then he set up in attack position again.

  The largest man glared, his jaw muscles working up and down. Finally, he must have decided that this little payday wasn’t worth the effort. With a guttural signal, he urged his gang back down the alley.

  Not taking any chances, Davidson headed off in the opposite direction. This building would have made a nice perch, but now he would have to go find another one.

  He could only hope he didn’t miss too much.

  * * *

  “I’ve got her!” Levont shouted from up ahead.

  Rebecca pushed past Talli. “Vakasa, stop!”

  Brandt brought up the rear. “Catch our six,” he ordered Talli as he moved forward to see what all the fuss was about. Rebecca was struggling to pull the little girl from the end wall. Her fingers were bloody as she dug into the limestone.

  “Honey, no,” Rebecca coaxed, but the girl just wouldn’t leave it.

  The little girl’s resistance didn’t matter as Brandt picked Vakasa up by the waist. “Maybe we can get back—”

  That had just been wishful thinking, as footsteps echoed down the tunnel. Getting chased into the pyramid by two jets kind of gave law enforcement a heads-up to their location.

  Which meant they were trapped. Brandt set down the girl. She made a beeline to the wall. Her only stop? To grab a knife from Levont’s leg.