by Karen Anders
Austin woke up when the military plane touched down on Kabul’s runway. Derrick was already awake, and Austin wondered if the guy ever slept. Normally, Derrick looked like a shrewd, elegant spy, an American 007—the kind of guy you didn’t want to piss off. But in combat gear he looked different...dangerous and deadly. For the hundredth time, Austin wondered what Derrick had done before he’d become an agent.
Austin sent his hands through his messy blond locks and stretched. Derrick looked pensive, like he was rolling something over in his head.
“What’s going on over there?”
“Follow me on this. According to Kaczewski’s brother, Russell—”
“Wait. When did you talk to him?”
“Just now, when you were visiting the back of your eyelids.”
“Ah. Continue.”
“Russell tells me that Jones’s brother Tyler is tight with Dexter.”
“Yeah, so.”
“So, I figure Senator Jones and the SEAL had to have met at Heathe. Probable?”
“I’d say.”
“According to his record, Kaczewski is a Boy Scout. Odds are he headed right for Jones the minute something went down. Hatch was killed dressed as an insurgent. Could be he dressed that way to throw them off and protect the senator?”
“What’s the alternative?”
“I don’t know at this point, but no one’s come forward with any type of ransom or claiming responsibility, yet the SEAL and the senator are gone.”
“You think they’re still alive? On the run?”
“If that’s the case, what are they running from and why haven’t they checked in?”
“Good question.”
“If you were a wounded navy SEAL and your best friend’s sister was in danger, what would you do?”
“Take out anyone threatening her, haul ass and lay low. Try to find out who’s trying to kill her.”
“Exactly. Markam is in the wind.”
“That’s my guess. No body. He could be with them. Let’s get settled and get your computer up and running and do a little digging. We find Markam, we get answers.”
Hours later, Austin was propped on the hotel room bed and Derrick was on the other one, both busily clicking on their computers. Austin had been digging up information on Markam since they hit the hotel room. “These guys are clean as a whistle. Who assigned them to Jones?” Austin growled.
“I talked to the duty guy. He said Jones’s brother Edward made the request,” Derrick said.
“I talked to Edward and he said he requested his uncle pull strings to get Piper to Afghanistan to see their wounded brother, but doesn’t know anything about a request for a special detail for his sister,” Austin said.
“It makes sense they would want agents with military background. What branch of the service were they in and what did they do?”
Austin brought up both files. “Markam was a marine, and he was stationed at the International Security Assistance Force headquarters out of Kabul, working as a liaison to...security forces.”
“Fancy that. What security forces?”
“Just a general statement in his record.”
“How about that security company, Outcast?”
Austin brought up a list of security contractors working with the government during the time Markam was a marine. “It’s on the list.”
“We have a dead Outcast member involved in that SEAL ambush. That’s a connection. I say we go have a word with Outcast.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They caught a cab outside the hotel and were soon at the Outcast offices. Once inside the lobby, they stopped at the desk.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist, a brunette with black-rimmed glasses, said.
“Special Agents Beck and Gunn, NCIS. We’re looking to talk to Carl Kruger about a marine that might have worked with you guys about six years ago. Name’s Raoul Markam.”
“Just a moment.” She got on the phone and within ten minutes someone showed up. “Hello, I’m Ted White, here to escort you. I’m the co-owner.”
They followed the guy up the elevator and into a hallway filled with offices and people busy working. He took them to a door at the end. Ted opened the door and ushered them inside, closing the door behind them.
A man sat behind the desk with salt-and-pepper hair; cold, wintery blue eyes regarded them. He rose. “Special Agents Beck and Gunn. Welcome to Outcast, gentlemen. Have a seat.”
They strode forward and settled in the two chairs in front of the desk. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re working a case that involves Raoul Markam.” Derrick pulled a picture up on his phone and showed Carl. “Do you know him?”
Carl shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. What’s this about?”
“We’re not at liberty to say, sir, but we have reason to believe that he may be involved in a kidnapping and murder.”
Carl looked surprised and shocked. “How is he tied to Outcast?”
“He was a marine six years ago and worked as liaison to security.”
“I see. We worked with a lot of people back when the war was in full swing, but I don’t know him.”
“How about Timothy Hatch?” Derrick showed him his picture.
“No.”
“How about Martin Carter?” Derrick held the phone up with the picture of the dead man.
Carl’s lips thinned and he blinked several times. “Yes, I do know him.”
“He’s employed by you?”
His voice and face were perfectly neutral, but Austin saw his eyes dart. He was lying. “No, not anymore. I terminated him about three weeks ago. I understand he was killed by SEALs during an attack.”
“That’s correct. A top-secret SEAL mission, as a matter of fact. We would like his employment records.” It was clear Derrick was not asking.
Carl nodded. “Of course, I’ll get those for you.”
With Carter’s records on a flash drive, Austin and Derrick left the Outcast offices and hailed a cab.
“What do you think?” Austin asked.
“Just what you think.”
“Yeah, the guy’s lying. I think he knows Markam.”
Derrick tapped his nose. “Exactly, and if he’s not involved with him, why did he lie?”
“Bingo. Carter is involved with the SEAL team ambush, which tells me that Tyler Keighley might have been the initial target.”
“I think you got that part right,” Derrick said.
Austin’s phone rang as the cab pulled up. “Beck.”
“Austin, Bagram is secure. You and Gunn can catch a helo there now,” Kai said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Austin told her where they were on the case. She told them to keep digging and to keep her posted. He hung up and told Derrick.
He had a gut feeling that he would have something for his boss very soon. They had pieces and all they had to do was fit them together.
And Austin was very good at puzzles.
Outcast Headquarters, Kabul,
Parwan Province, Afghanistan
Carl picked up the phone, fuming as it rang.
“Hello.” Ted had left after the NCIS agents did. He had a mission. “Ted?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he growled.
“You with Markam?”
“Yes, Carl. I found him.”
“Good. When you find that SEAL and the senator and kill them, dig a hole and bury them deep, and anyone helping them. Make sure those bodies are never found. And, Ted?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure Markam’s body goes in before you cover them up.”
“What about the money?”
“We’ve gotten half, and this is heating up.” His voice was flat. “NCIS has already connected us to Ca
rter and now Markam. If they nab him, he’ll rat us out to save his own hide.” Carl enjoyed his cushy life way too much and he wanted to protect what he’d built. “His plan is to pretend that he got kidnapped by insurgents and escaped. I don’t think the story that insurgents killed the senator and the SEAL will fly now that they’ve connected him to us. We’re cutting our losses.”
“Yes, sir. You got it.”
Bagram Airfield,
Parwan Province, Afghanistan
Austin and Derrick climbed out of the helo once it set down on the runway at Bagram. Colonel Aazar Aziz, the Afghan commander, met them and turned them over to a guy who escorted them to Heathe. The place was in shambles with bodies laid out on the side and covered with sheets. Hatch’s body had been flown out two days ago and was already being autopsied. NCIS tech Lara Comstock was busy analyzing the blood and the ballistics on the bullets that had killed Hatch.
“Special Agent Beck?” a female voice said, and he turned to find a dark-haired woman standing behind him. She reached out her hand. “Hello, I’m Christina Davis, and I was here when the insurgents attacked. I understand you need to talk to me.”
“Yes, thank you. Is there somewhere we can go that’s private?”
“Sure, the nurses’ break room.”
Once they were situated, Austin said, “Can you tell me what happened the night you were attacked?”
“I was just coming back from the runway after loading Petty Officer Keighley onto his flight for Landstuhl. The flight was early and I had to hustle to get him there. When I was walking back to Heathe, I saw them overrun the gate.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to make it back to warn people, but I was too late. They were already coming through the front door. I managed to alert most of the nursing staff and we all barricaded ourselves into the supply room.”
“Did you see Agents Markam or Hatch?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“How about Senator Jones and Lieutenant Kaczewski?”
“No. Senator Jones was sleeping in a room just off the front doors. She was waiting for a military transport back to the States. Lieutenant Kaczewski was in the wing over from this one. He was the last of our patients and was flying to Walter Reed in the morning.”
“Did Senator Jones and Lieutenant Kaczewski speak?”
“They did more than that. He got out of bed and went to Petty Officer Keighley’s room with her help.”
“So they had contact?”
“Yes, sir.”
Austin smiled. “Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Davis. We’re glad you’re okay.”
“They didn’t seem to be interested in us. We were quite safe in the supply room. No one even came near the door.”
Austin’s phone rang as soon as Christina left. “Beck, it’s Lara.”
“What do you have for me, O-forensic-goddess?”
She chuckled. “The blood they found on the floor at Bagram. It’s Lieutenant Kaczewski’s and Agent Hatch’s. Looks like they went at it.” She paused and he heard tapping. “I also did ballistics on the recovered gun and the bullets that killed Agent Hatch.”
“And?”
“The guy was killed with his own gun. One right through the heart. The two bullets in his head don’t match anything on record.”
“That all you got?”
“Agent Beck, aren’t I a goddess?” she said with pique.
“I thought I detected a smug tone to your voice. What is it?”
“I got prints off the grip and the barrel.”
“Who do they belong to?”
“That would be two whos.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Senator Piper Jones and Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski.”
“No way?”
“Way. But Kaczewski’s is only on the barrel of the gun. Senator Piper Jones is the one who pulled the trigger.”
After Austin related all this information to Derrick, he got back on his computer and started digging some more. As night transitioned to day, he and Derrick had a chance to look around outside. Just past the main gate and across the road, Derrick found some prints. Some small enough to be those of a woman. He also found dried blood.
“Looks like they hightailed it into the valley.”
“What’s close to here?”
“Charikar is twelve miles from here, and there’s a number of small villages all over this area.”
“All right, let me do more research on Lieutenant Kaczewski and see if I can unearth any clues while you start cataloging the villages. We can get an interpreter.”
“No need. I speak the language fluently.”
“Do you?”
Derrick looked across the expanse of wilderness and Austin knew they were working against the clock. It seemed to him that Senator Jones’s protection detail had been compromised and she had not only killed one of the men who was supposed to be protecting her, but she was also supporting a wounded navy SEAL. They were running for their lives. Which begged the question: Who wanted Piper Jones dead enough to go through all these hoops to make it look like an insurgents’ attack and why? Also, that SEAL ambush was all about Tyler Keighley. He was the bait to lure her here. Those marines didn’t die in battle. They were casualties of a damn conspiracy to take out a US senator. Outcast was most likely involved, but who hired them? How far did this conspiracy go? All the way to the White House?
Safid Darreh,
Parwan Province, Afghanistan
Dex woke, his heart racing, as if something heavy was sitting on his chest. Like the walls were closing in on him. He was glad that Blessing would be here today to get them out. Once in Kabul, they could fly out of Afghanistan and back to DC to get to the bottom of this mess. The sooner he figured out who was trying to kill Piper, the sooner he could get the hell away from his best friend’s sister.
It was still dark and he drifted off again, only to jerk out of a sound sleep. His fever was gone, but not the fever of wanting her. His heart was still pounding and his breathing heavy, as if he’d been running with the dream still fresh in his mind. It might have been created from the meds in his system, the wild kiss they shared yesterday and the fact that he was hot for her. But it had seemed so real; his whole body throbbed with a heavy, pulsating ache—one that left him with a hard-on and a fierce emptiness when he woke up.
It was bad enough that Piper infiltrated his waking thoughts, but now she had also infiltrated his dreams. Sweet, sensual dreams, hot, erotic dreams, that left him so shaken, so achy, he was twisted the hell up inside.
Except that last dream, the one he was having before he woke up, had been more intense. More explicit. More real.
Damn, he had to make them stop. But that was hard when she was again snuggled up to him as if she, too, couldn’t keep away from him in sleep.
He heard a small sound, like a catch in her breath, and she started to shift against him. He looked down at her. “Piper?” he said.
There was a soft, muffled sound, and his heart jammed up in his chest, then started to pound in a different rhythm. She didn’t wake up. Instead, she cried out in her sleep. “Brad! No. No. Please, God. Please. I’ll do anything. No!”
She was sobbing now and the sound was of the deepest agony; he realized how much she had loved her husband and she was once again reliving that nightmare. And he knew how real it could all seem.
Dex knew he couldn’t let her continue. He shook her hard. “Piper. Wake up!”
She came out of the nightmare sobbing, as if she didn’t quite realize she was awake. He rose into a sitting position; his wound was aching, but it was bearable. Bracing himself against the wall, he brought her up with him.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he murmured gruffly. “It was a nightmare.”
She resisted for
a moment, then relented, her arms sliding around him, drawing a deep, shuddering breath as she cried, her tears running down his chest. “It was so real.”
“I know,” he whispered. Pressing her head to his shoulder, he gathered her up in a tight embrace and his hand tangled in her hair. Shifting so she was flat against him, he shut his eyes, the rush of tactile sensation so intense that he had to grit his teeth against it. He tightened his hold on her, his heart hammering, his breathing constricted. She moved, sending a shock wave of heat through him, and he clutched her head, the feel of her almost too much to handle.
His fingers snagging in her hair, he tucked his head against hers, forcing himself to remain immobile. Every muscle in his body demanded that he move, and his nerve endings tingled as if they were stripped raw, but he tried to ignore the feelings pounding through him. She had no idea what she was doing to him, but he was all too aware of what was happening.
It took him a while, but he finally got himself under control, and he could finally breathe without it nearly killing him. He adjusted his hold on her, drawing her deeper into his embrace, his lungs constricting. Seeing such a strong, brave woman come apart like this humbled him; there was so much pain inside her that she finally had to get it all out. The thought of her going through something like this a second time made him completely understand all her fears. It sobered him like little else had, and he pressed her head against him, a dozen regrets settling in his chest. If only... If only...
Knowing nothing good could come from going there, he tightened his arms around her and simply held her, the fullness in his chest expanding. She was so torn up. And vulnerable. And he wasn’t sure how he was going to get them both out of this without getting in a wreck.
He was so close to the edge that it wouldn’t take a whole hell of a lot to push him over. And she felt so good and smelled so good and, damn, he wanted to feel her flush against him.
Unable to control the urge, he pulled her across his lap, turning his face against her neck and clenching his teeth. He hoped she was so far out of it that she wouldn’t notice the state he was in.
But she wasn’t that far out of it. She went still in his arms, then made a low, desperate sound and twisted her head, her mouth suddenly hot and urgent against his. The bolt of pure, raw sensation knocked the wind right out of him. Dex shuddered, and he widened his mouth against hers, feeding on the desperation that poured back and forth between them. She made another wild sound and clutched at him, the movement welding their bodies together like two halves of a whole, and he nearly lost it right then. But the taste of tears cut through his senses, and he dragged his mouth away from hers, his heart pounding like a locomotive in his chest.
