by Gail Barrett
Her pulse took flight, veering toward full-blown panic now. “Hold on. He’s after us!” She jerked the cart into motion, then pedaled with all her might, bumping down the unpaved road. Her breath sawed. Her lungs burned with the effort to propel the cart through the muddy ruts with Henry weighing it down. But then the road began sloping downhill. They steadily picked up speed. She swerved through a couple of alleys, still angling toward the river. The smell of fish grew strong in the air.
Then buzzards came into view, circling the garbage rotting along the bank. She came to a stop in the crowded street and scanned the boats, searching for a place for Henry to hide. She zeroed in on a long, wooden vessel loaded with crates, its outboard engine running as the driver prepared to depart. The driver stepped ashore a second later, shouted to a man working on another boat and entered a riverside shack.
She leaped down and helped Henry out of the cart. “That boat over there. The one with the thatched roof. Go pick up a crate and take it onboard. Then hide underneath the tarp.”
“I can’t leave you here.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you in another boat.”
“But—”
“There’s no time. He’s after us. You’ve got to go.”
Henry’s worried blue eyes held hers. And suddenly, a swarm of emotions brimmed inside her, words she wanted to say. But they didn’t have time for a long farewell.
“All right,” he said, relenting. “But be careful.”
“I will. Don’t worry. Now get on board that boat.”
He hobbled down the bank. Luckily, no one looked his way. He paused to pick up an empty crate, then climbed onto the boat as if he had every right to be aboard. At the last minute, he turned back and lifted his hand, and her heart made a little clutch. Then he disappeared beneath the tarp.
Her throat turned thick and she swallowed hard, suddenly feeling bereft. It felt odd to be parting company with Henry after all that they’d been through. And for the first time since this ordeal began, she was on her own. But she had to make sure he survived.
Needing to divert Amir, to make certain he didn’t notice Henry, she abandoned the cart and set off on foot, darting into the open road. She looked back, waited a second until she knew he’d spotted her, then sprinted past a row of huts.
A minute later, she swiveled around and spared another glance back at the cargo boat. The vessel puttered into the center of the slow-moving river, then started gaining speed, heading downstream with Henry stowed aboard.
She let out a shaky breath. She had no idea where the boat was going, or how Henry would get back to civilization when it eventually put to shore, but at least he was safe from the terrorists.
Now she had to worry about herself.
She started running again, knowing this was her last chance to get away. If she didn’t escape now, if Amir and the other men caught her, they would turn her over to her father, and she’d be dead.
The road came to an end. She turned and started uphill, away from the river, hoping to circle back. But suddenly Manzoor came into view above her, heading her way.
She slammed to a halt. Her panic surging, she detoured into an alley between two buildings and ran back toward the river again. But the alley ended abruptly with a barricade, and she skidded to another stop.
She peered over the wooden barrier. Twenty feet below her was a pile of rocks. She spun around, searching for options, but then Rasheed appeared at the alley entrance, barring her way.
Her heart missed several beats. She glanced behind her at the rocks again—but she’d never survive the jump.
“Nadine!” he called. “Come this way.” He started walking toward her, a gun in his left hand. And a terrible sense of betrayal seized her—because despite the kidnapping, despite his association with the other criminals, she’d wanted to trust this man. Some insane part of her had tempted her to believe that he was different, that his kiss had meant something important, that he wasn’t as bad as he pretended to be.
“Let me pass,” she begged.
“I can’t.” His voice was strained. “Not now. You have to come with me.”
She grabbed hold of the barricade and looked down. She’d never make it. The rocks were too far away. She’d break a leg or worse if she tried to leap. But that was better than facing certain death at her father’s hands.
“Don’t do it,” he warned. “Don’t jump.” Her gaze flew back to his. He was only a few yards away now, walking steadily closer, his eyes intent on hers. “You won’t survive it. And I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll help you. You can trust me to keep you safe.”
Could she? Should she? She searched his eyes, wanting to believe in his sincerity. And her mind flashed back to the gentle way he’d treated Henry, how he’d protected her from Amir. But if she guessed wrong...
“I promise you, Nadine. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She had to decide. Manzoor waited on the hill above her. Amir was on the bank below. It was either jump onto the rocks or trust Rasheed—and take a leap of a different sort.
She sucked in a breath, knowing her fate rested on her choice. Her legs unsteady, hoping with every fiber of her being that she wouldn’t regret it, she let go of the railing and walked to Rasheed.
* * *
“Don’t say anything,” Rasheed murmured, relief barreling through him as he seized her arm. “Just play along until we’re away from the others.” He had to make this look convincing or he’d blow his cover for sure. He’d had a hard enough time distracting Manzoor, keeping him from reaching the river before Henry escaped in the boat. He couldn’t ruin everything now.
He pulled Nadine back down the alley into view. “I’ve got her,” he called to Manzoor, who was watching from the hill above. “We’ll meet you at the airstrip.”
“Make sure she doesn’t get away,” the leader called back.
“Don’t worry. She won’t. You can depend on me.” Needing privacy, he glanced around. He spotted an abandoned building beyond the hill, out of Manzoor’s direct line of sight. Making a show of being rough, he dragged Nadine behind the building, then hustled her through the door. They were alone for now.
Nadine jerked her arm free, panting hard. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes sparked at his in the light seeping through the cracks between the boards. “What do you want? Why won’t you let me go?”
“I can’t.” God knew, he wanted to. But the truth was that he needed her help. And she was far safer in his hands than in Manzoor’s.
“Please.” Her voice trembled, the fear seeping through her bravado gutting his heart. “You have to help me. This is my only chance to get away. My father... He’s going to kill me if you turn me in.”
“What?” He stared at her, unable to mask his surprise. “What do you mean he’s going to kill you?”
She frowned, confusion filling her eyes. “Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“But...” She gave her head a shake. “If you don’t know what he’s doing, then why did you kidnap me?”
“I was following orders. I told you. I have a job to do.”
Her eyes searched his. “But you know who my father is?”
“Yeah.” He knew, all right. Yousef al Kahtani was the man financing this operation, the man who’d ordered Rasheed’s wife’s death.
“He’s been looking for me for years,” she said. “He wants to kill me. That’s why I ran away from home.”
Rasheed’s mind spun. Hell. He hadn’t expected this at all. “You ran away?”
“Yes, when I was seventeen.”
That accounted for where she’d gone, and it explained why the terrorists had captured her now. Her father must have discovered her whereabouts and ordered them to bring her in. And, if it was true, then she really was a victim in this
affair. That fear she’d exhibited was real.
Still, he had to be sure. “Why would your father want to hurt you?”
“Because of his honor.” Her mouth flattened, her voice ringing with disgust. “He arranged a marriage for me when I was a teenager. To a distant cousin, an older man who has a higher standing in the royal family. But I refused and ran away.”
An honor killing. He’d heard of those, of course. The archaic practice still happened far too often in tribal cultures in the Middle East. And he could imagine Nadine’s value as a bride with her bewitching eyes. Her father could aim sky-high.
“And you’ve stayed hidden during all this time?” he asked, still not completely convinced.
“That’s right.”
“How?”
“At first I stayed on the move. Later I created a new identity. That’s how I got through medical school without him finding me.”
Taken aback by her story, he studied her in a different light. If she was being forthright, that had been some feat. She’d disappeared so effectively that even the intelligence community believed she’d died.
“And you seriously think he’ll kill you?”
“I know he will. His honor is at stake. The cousin I was supposed to marry is the ambassador to the U.S. now. He isn’t the kind of man who’d forget. Neither is my father.”
Rasheed couldn’t argue that. When al Kahtani had caught wind of Rasheed’s investigation, he’d ordered the terrorists to kill his wife. He wouldn’t blink at murdering a daughter who’d impinged his honor.
“And it’s not just me,” she continued, rubbing her arms. “My friends are in danger, too.”
He frowned. “Why would he go after them?”
“He wouldn’t. But after I ran away, when I was living on the streets in Baltimore, I witnessed a crime. A gang execution. Well, one of my friends saw it, one of the girls I hung around with. I was just standing nearby. But the killer has been after us all this time. And if he finds me, if I appear in public and he recognizes me, he might be able to find them, too.”
“Christ.” Rasheed ran his hand down his face. This was getting more complicated by the second.
And her revelation changed everything. If she was telling the truth—and he strongly suspected she was—he now held the fate of an innocent woman in his hands, the one thing he’d vowed he’d never do again.
“Please.” Her green eyes pleaded with his. “You have to let me go. If you don’t, I’m going to die.”
Swearing, he spun on his heels, then paced across the room and back, his steps echoing on the wooden floor. His conscience demanded that he let her go. He had no right to hold her captive when her life could be at risk.
But he couldn’t let her escape. Not only would he blow his cover, but he needed her help. He urgently needed information about her father to have any hope of stopping the attack. If he gave up now, if he aborted this crucial mission, thousands of people could die.
He stopped and faced her again, the desperation in her eyes erasing any doubt. She was innocent. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was working with her father. And he couldn’t deliver her to her death.
Unless she volunteered to stay...
His conscience balked. He’d already caused one woman’s death. He’d dragged his wife into danger she’d never asked for, and she’d paid the ultimate price. Did he now have the right to involve another vulnerable victim, to ask Nadine to give up her chance at freedom to help bring her family down? Would she really work against them if he did?
It was time to find out.
Chapter 6
Rasheed knew he was flirting with danger. Revealing his covert status could jeopardize the investigation, potentially imperiling thousands of innocent lives—not to mention his own. But he couldn’t see much choice. He had to tell her who he was.
“All right, listen,” he said. “The truth is that I’m working undercover.”
Seconds dragged past. Her eyes stayed fastened on his. “Undercover?” she finally said. “You’re saying you’re...some kind of agent? Like with the CIA?”
“That’s right. I’m investigating Amir and Manzoor. They belong to an elite contingent of the Rising Light, a Jaziirastani terror group. Right now they’re on a mission, heading into the United States. I infiltrated their cell to find out what that mission is. I didn’t know they were going to kidnap you. But now that they have, I need your help.”
“My help?” She sounded even more surprised. “I’m a plastic surgeon. How can I possibly help you?”
Hoping he hadn’t misjudged her, he started pacing again. A dog barked outside. The sunlight slanting through the gaps in the wallboards made stripes across the wooden floor. He returned to Nadine and stopped. “We think your father is the Rising Light’s chief financier. We’ve been investigating his link to them for years. The money travels a convoluted route from his bank in Virginia—Jannah Capital—to a Jaziirastani charity that supports this jihadist group.”
“What makes you think that?”
“A few years after 9/11, when tighter financial regulations went into effect, we started noticing anomalies in his bank—high-volume transactions, unexplained deposits, multiple accounts transferring funds into the same account overseas. They sent me to one of the bank’s subsidiaries, First Bangladesh, to check it out. I worked there for about a year, trying to follow the money trail, watching how the transfers came in and where they went. But I kept hitting dead ends. They disguise the transactions well. So I decided to go into the field instead.” He’d had no choice after al Kahtani got wind of his investigation, blowing his cover at the bank to shreds.
“That’s when I joined the Rising Light. I decided to approach the investigation from the other end, to try to uncover the people involved and see if I could make the connection back to him.”
Her forehead creased, her eyes turning troubled now. Realizing she wasn’t convinced yet, he went on. “It took me a while to gain their confidence.” Carrying out acts too repugnant to recall. “But I eventually worked my way up their ranks. Then, about six months ago, I got wind that they had something major in the works. I’d paid my dues, and they trusted me by then, so they agreed to let me in. That’s why I’m here, to find out what they’re up to and stop the attack.” And connect the plot to al Kahtani, the bastard who killed his wife.
“What are they going to attack?” she asked, sounding numb.
“That’s just it. We still don’t know. They compartmentalize their information. That’s standard tradecraft behavior. No one person has all the facts, except your father and maybe Manzoor. But whatever they’re planning, it’s going to be big. Internet chatter’s heating up. Governments everywhere are on high alert. We think it’s on the scale of 9/11.”
She pressed her hand to her throat. “And the plane you’re catching?”
“It’s taking us to San Gabriel, the island the drug cartel owns. The cartel is going to fly us into the States on one of their drug smuggling runs. The Rising Light hired them to sneak us in. The CIA is going to facilitate the flight, to make sure we can land.” And hopefully arrest the terrorists, assuming he’d unearthed enough evidence to pin on them by then.
“And you really think my father’s involved in this?”
“I know he is. All our sources tell us so. But I can’t prove it yet. He’s too damned smart. He’s got a firewall around him no one can penetrate.”
He plowed his hand through his hair. “Look. I know I don’t have a right to ask you this. And if you say no, I understand. I’ll get you to the river. I’ll help you get on a boat and escape. But I’d like your help.”
“But I still don’t see what I can do.”
“Stay a captive for a while longer, just until we reach the island. Fill me in on what you know about your family.”
“But I
don’t know anything about them. I haven’t seen or talked to them in fifteen years.”
“You might be surprised. Any details you can give me, any bit of background information might trigger a clue. I’m desperate, Nadine. Thousands of people could die if we don’t stop this attack.”
Her face paled. She hugged her arms, her eyes filled with fear. “And my father? What if he catches me?”
“It won’t get that far. I promise. There’s another agent embedded on the island. We’ll help you get away. I only need you to stay with me for a day or two, just long enough for you to brief me on what you know, and then we’ll get you out.”
More doubts clouded her eyes. She nibbled her lush bottom lip, her indecision clear. He knew he was asking a lot. She’d spent nearly half her life on the run from her powerful family. Asking her to trade her freedom—and risk her life—was too damned much.
She lifted her eyes to his. “When is the attack?”
“As soon we get to the United States, I think. We don’t have much time.”
She swallowed, the movement visible in her slender throat. But then she raised her chin. “All right. I’ll do it.”
His breath caught. “You’re sure?”
She exhaled, the sound soft in the quiet room. “My father has tortured me long enough. I can’t keep running forever. And if there’s a chance I can help put a stop to this...”
Staggered by her courage, he moved in close. The afternoon sunlight sifted through the slats, painting silver highlights in her midnight hair. “I’ll protect you, Nadine. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. But I can’t lie. There’s no way to predict exactly what’s going to happen. There’s always a risk involved.”
“I know that.”
“And if you want to back out, if you don’t want to chance it, I understand. I can still help you get away. You don’t have to agree.”
“Yes, I do.” A haunted look darkened her eyes. “I’ve built a life now. I have friends, a career. I don’t want to keep starting over every time he catches up. He’s an evil man, Rasheed. Someone has to stop him before more innocent people get hurt. So if I can do my part...”
