The cabbie beams. This one fare is almost equal to what he has made all day. He loves American tourists! “Certainly, sir!”
He waits until the cab, leaving at a much more reasonable pace, turns the corner and disappears before settling into his own Mercedes. Time to go to work.
***
Ryker has been hanging around in the hall outside of Dr. Ghazi Kalif’s office for the last forty-five minutes, waiting for the steady flow of students in and out of his office to stop. He checks his watch. It’s nearly five and Ronnie should be here within minutes. With no other students in sight, Ryker steps forward and gently opens the door to Kalif’s office.
“Dr. Kalif? Dr. Ghazi Kalif?”
“Yes?”
He pushes the door open. “Sorry to bother you, doctor. I’m John Catlin, BBC News. May I speak with you a moment?” Ryker asks with a thick British accent.
Kalif looks at Ryker in confusion. “I’m sorry. Who?”
“John Catlin. I’m an assistant producer for BBC news. BBC is creating a segment on how Middle East Universities are now competing on the world stage for advancements in the hard sciences. I understand you are the one of Lebanon’s preeminent authorities on microbiology and virology. We would like to do a segment on you and the research you are conducting.”
Ryker smiles as Kalif begins to preen. “I would be very happy to assist you with this segment. Now?”
“No. Sorry sir. We will invite you to the BBC studio for that. Today my assistant and I would like to talk to you… excuse me a moment,” Ryker says as he phone buzzes in his pocket. “This is probably my assistant now. John Catlin,” he says into the phone.
Ronnie pulls her phone back and looks at the number when the rich British voice and strange name comes through her phone. “Ryker?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! For a moment there I thought I called the wrong number.”
“Dr. Kalif is willing to talk to us,” Ryker says nodding and smiling at Kalif. “We will wait for you in room 1606. I’m hoping Dr. Kalif will offer us a tour of his lab.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“See you in a bit.”
“That’s her,” Ryker says. “She’ll be here in a moment. We really need to wait on her because she is the one that has studied up on all this stuff.”
“I would be delighted to show you around and answer any questions you, or your assistant, might have,” Kalif says with a smile.
Ryker and Kalif prattle on for a few minutes about what Ryker thinks of Lebanon, when Ryker hears the door to the office open. He turns his back to the wall, hiding this weapon secreted there, in case it isn’t Ronnie entering. The moment he sees her red hair appear through the door he turns his attention back to Kalif. He is smiling until Ronnie steps into view, then his smile fades.
“You’re…”
Before he gets another word out, Ryker’s weapon is pointed directly at Kalif’s head. “Hands on top of the desk. One move and you are a dead man,” he snarls, his accent and pleasant demeanor gone. He hopes he doesn’t have to fire because without the suppressor attached the roar of the 9mm will bring everyone running.
“What is the meaning of this?” Kalif bellows in outrage.
“Lock the door,” Ryker says to Ronnie over his shoulder. “Where’s the virus, Kalif? And don’t waste my time by denying that you have it.”
“Fuck you and your American cunt!”
Ryker steps forward and backhands Kalif across the chin with his gun hand. The weight of the weapon and the steel in his hand makes it a devastating punch and Kalif goes over backwards, blood spraying from his mouth. Ryker reaches down and pulls him up and puts the gun to his temple. “The next time it is a bullet to the brain.”
“You won’t shoot me!”
“Ronnie. Find some cloth towels. As many as you can. I’m going to make a silencer to keep the noise down when I kill this fucker. Then we will search his lab. Make it quick.”
She scurries through the open door into the attached lab. Ryker holds Kalif, saying nothing, his weapon pressed to his temple. Two minutes later, she is back with a half-dozen neatly folded towels. “Will these do?”
“Perfect.” Ryker muscles Kalif around until his chest and head are pressed hard into his desk, then pulls the gun back from the man’s temple. “Put the towels on his head, then back up. This is going to make a hell of a mess.”
Ronnie does as directed and steps into the lab, closing her eyes and putting her fingers in her ears, terrified that Ryker is really going to do it. Holding her breath, Ronnie waits for the gunshot.
The moment Ryker presses his weapon into the side of his head, Kalif wilts. “Wait! Wait! I will tell you!”
“Talk fast!” Ryker growls, never taking the pressure off the Kalif’s temple.
“It’s in the lab!”
“Show me!” Ryker says, hauling Kalif to his feet. Ryker takes him by the collar and presses his weapon to the back of his skull, just to remind Kalif how near death he is.
Ronnie nearly sags in relief when Kalif and Ryker enter the lab. She really thought Ryker was going to do it… and who knows, maybe he was. As Ryker walks past Ronnie falls into step behind him before belatedly hurrying over to lock the lab door as well.
“Here,” Kalif says, pulling a rack of test tubes out of a cabinet. In the back are five vials with a clear liquid inside.
“Ronnie!” Ryker hisses.
Ronnie picks up the vials. “Could be. No way to know without checking.”
“Take all five.” As Ronnie quickly pulls the vials, Ryker leans in on Kalf. “She’s going to check them now. If she comes back and tells me these are not the virus, you’re dead, do you understand? This is your only chance,” he snarls, then turns to face her. “Make it fast Ronnie. We’re on borrowed time here.”
“It’s still going to take thirty-five or forty minutes to prep the samples,” Ronnie says as she tucks the vials into her purse.
“Fuck,” Ryker snarls. “Fast as you can, okay? If it’s the virus, take it and go. You have…” He almost said “the embassy.”“Hargraves’ number?”
“Yes.”
“Call him. Have someone meet you. Then have him send someone over here.”
“Got it!”
The moment Ronnie is out of the room, Ryker jerks Kalif back and turns him toward his office. “If this is the virus, I won’t kill you. But my friends, the CIA, they are going to have a few questions for you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Forty five minutes later, Ryker’s phone buzzes in his hand. His eyes never moving from Kalif he puts the phone to his ear. “Grayland.”
“It’s the virus,” Ronnie says.
“Well, Kalif, seems you live for another day,” Ryker says to the man. “Make the call, Ronnie.”
Ryker kills the call but continues to hold the phone. Less than two minutes later, the phone buzzes again. “Grayland.”
“What do you need?” asks Spreck’s voice.
“I need a car, a driver, and a couple of people to keep Kalif from getting lonely on the drive.”
“Fifty minutes.”
Twenty minutes later his phone rings again. “Grayland.”
“I’m at the hotel. Spreck is meeting me here and taking the Mogle.”
“Where is the virus now?”
“Dying in the back of the truck. I poured the samples into an alcohol solution.”
“Do, er, people know this?” Ryker asks in surprise.
“It was Spreck’s idea.”
“So it’s over.”
“Yes. Thank God.”
“As soon as people get here, I’ll come there,” he says, relieved that this mission is finally complete.
***
Ronnie turns at the click of the door opening, rising from her chair as Ryker enters. “Is it over?”
Ryker smiles, taking Ronnie into his arms. “It’s over,” he confirms.
Ronnie relaxes into Ryker, placing her head on his shoulder. “T
hank God. What do we do now?’
“I’m not sure. If we don’t hear anything tonight, I will report to Hargraves in the morning. See what my orders are.”
“Then what?”
“I assume I will be sent back to Little Creek.”
“Little Creek?”
“It’s the SEAL training base right outside of Norfolk.”
“Virginia?”
“That’s right. Long way from California, isn’t it?”
Ronnie is quiet for a moment. She knew this moment would come but she had thus far refused to think about it. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I could transfer to San Diego. That’s at least closer. But that will take some time.”
She can feel herself tearing up at the thought of losing him. “We’ve been through so much. I can’t bear the thought of losing you now.”
He smiles. He’s not ready to give up on her yet. “Hey… we’ll work something out. I have some leave coming.”
“I don’t want you just on leave. I want to be with you. Always.”
Ryker smiles into Ronnie’s hair. He would like that too. But it may not be possible. Not for a while. But even when his tour is up… he is going to have to do some thinking. Is he really willing to give it all up for Ronnie? If she were to ask him now, he would say “yes.” But when it really comes time to sign the papers, will he actually be willing to do it? He kisses her on the head. He has two years to sort that out. A lot can happen in that amount of time.
“Let’s not worry about that now, okay? Let’s just enjoy the time we have left. Then… we’ll work something out.”
She pulls back from his embrace and offers him a slightly sad smile. “Yes. You’re right. We can work it out. Maybe I can move to Norfolk. There must be teaching positions there somewhere, right? Or a medical company?”
Ryker smiles lovingly. “See? It will work out. If we want this to work, we will find a way.”
Her smile brightens. He’s right. After two kidnapping attempts, a rescue of her father, and two missions with him, what difference does a little distance make? They will find a way.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
With a car and the CIA’s credit card, Ryker does a little research and decides he and Ronnie are going to Abu Naim, a highly regarded restaurant located in the city center. The CIA hadn’t supplied dress clothes, the provided wardrobe focusing more on what American tourists would wear on vacation, but with a little creative mixing and matching, Ronnie turns out in a jaw-dropping outfit perfect for a night on the town.
When he kills the engine on the rented Merc, he places his hand on her arm, silently stilling her reach for the door handle. She smiles and sits demurely while he crosses in front of the car and opens her door. As she exits the car she tries to remember the last time a gentleman opened the door for her… and she realizes she can’t. Fearless, handsome, strong, a force of nature in bed… and a gentleman too? No wonder her panties are always wet!
“What are you grinning about?” he asks, noticing her mischievous grin.
“Nothing dear!” she replies brightly, patting him on the chest as she sashays past.
Ryker grins and falls into step with her. It has been his experience when a woman says “nothing” and it is clearly “something,” it’s not a good thing. But this “nothing” appears to be the exception that proves the rule.
They don’t have to cool their heels long before a table opens. As they are escorted to their table he can feel the eyes upon them. Well, maybe not them… but Ronnie. As he seats her at the table he can’t help but smile at his luck. He had all but blistered the paint on his apartment walls with his language when he found out he was shipping out to Lebanon again... only to find out it is the best thing that has ever happened to him.
“You’re going to have to help me again,” Ronnie says, looking over the menu. It may have English and French under the squiggles that is Lebanese, but she still didn’t know what would be good.
“I have a better idea. Would you ask the owner to come over please?” Ryker says when the waiter arrives.
“Ryker?” she says, drawing his name out. “What are you doing?”
“Do you trust me?”
Ronnie grins. “You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”
“Then relax. Sheesh. You’d think we were in a foreign country surrounded by kidnappers and mad scientists bent on world domination or something.”
She looks to her lap to hide her grin before looking back up. “Now why would I think that?”
“I’m Abu Naim. You asked to see me?” a well-dressed man says, stopping at their table.
“My wife is new to Lebanese food. What would you suggest?”
Abu smiles. “How about a little of everything then? Allow the lady to decide what she likes. Then she will know what to order when her beauty once again graces my humble restaurant.”
Ryker grins as Ronnie blushes. “That sounds perfect, Mr. Naim. May I have the same? And a bottle of wine.”
“Of course, sir. I will have your orders out quickly.”
“You put him up to that!” Ronnie accuses when Abu is out of earshot.
“Did not!” Ryker protests, holding his hands up in wide-eyed innocence. “This is the first time I have ever been here.”
A moment later a waiter arrives with a bottle in a tub of ice. After the cork is removed, the waiter fills their glasses and moves off to service other tables. Ryker takes a sip. “Not bad.” He reaches into the ice bucket and removes the bottle to look at the label.
“What?” Ronnie asks, when Ryker grins.
He turns the bottle, showing her the label. “A little taste of home.”
“What?”
“Look where it’s made.”
Ronnie squints and then grins. “Napa! A little taste of home is right.”
They hadn’t even finished their first glass of wine when a large platter covered with various meats ringed by pita arrived, closely followed by several small bowl of vegetables. Abu returns to their table and explained the various delicacies, their flavor, and how to best pair the dishes. Ronnie tries to keep track but is overwhelmed by the variety of the pairings.
Ronnie decides she is very partial to the chicken livers and kibbeh nayyeh, much to her surprise, and the batata harra has just enough kick to make the potatoes memorable. The wine selected by Abu adds the perfect touch.
They nibble at their food, oohing and ahhing over the rich flavors, occasionally feeding each other a morsel. At the end of the meal, when the two small servings of man’oushe arrive, they look at each other, their grins quickly dissolving into snickers and giggles as they scrape their bowls clean. As she devours the last of her dessert Ronnie makes quiet moans with every taste, delighting in watching his color rise in response to her antics.
On the drive back to their hotel Ronnie is feeling full from the food, relaxed from the wine, and very much in the mood for some quiet time with Ryker. Or, if she gets over this stuffed feeling soon enough, maybe some not so quiet time, she decides lasciviously.
It is nearly nine by the time the door swings shut behind them in their suite. “Thank you Ryker. That is one of the most enjoyable evenings I have never had,” Ronnie says, melting into his arms.
“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you.”
Ronnie sighs deeply, that creeping sadness of their impending separation once again weighing heavily on her heart. Even if they can work it out, there is going to be a time when they can’t be together, and she doesn’t want to be apart from Ryker for even one minute, much less weeks or months at a time.
He holds her tight, her quiet stillness giving away her thoughts. The same thoughts he is having. How can he bear being separated from her for months at a time? He is confident they will eventually work out something so they can be together, but until then the distance between them will be hard to take. Maybe he should just call it off now.
A quick sharp pain as opposed to long drawn out agony. But he quickly
rejects that idea. No… she is worth any sacrifice. He will talk to his commanding officer when he gets back to Little Creek and request a transfer to San Diego. The Navy owes him that much.
As Ronnie pulls back, he lowers his lips to hers and she accepts his kiss. The kiss is slow, deep, and filled with longing, speaking of a thirst that they can’t seem to quench—only temporarily satiate. When the kiss breaks, he pulls her hard to him, holding her tightly once more. “When I get back to base, I’m requesting a transfer to San Diego and I won’t rest until I get it. If I have to I will quit the SEALs. There is a naval base in San Francisco that maybe I can get transferred to. Don’t give up on us, Ronnie! We can make this work!”
Hot Extraction: SEALs, Marines, and Infantry - A Military Romance Boxed Set Page 24
