He took a step toward their prisoner.
The man flinched and planted a hand on the ground as though he might try to stand.
Farez stopped, puzzled by the reaction. They’d taken the man at gunpoint. There’d never been a reason to strike or hurt him. So why did he flinch?
Jared Moss stared up at Farez with wary eyes as though he’d been in a situation like this before. In the darkness with the young man’s brown eyes and hair, he could be the son of a friend.
“Who were they?” Farez asked in English.
“Who? I don’t know. You threw this blanket over my head and I went where you told me.” Jared laid the shawl over his thighs and crossed his legs.
“Men with guns?”
Jared opened and closed his mouth. The man’s wide eyes held no guile, no deceit. “I don’t know.”
Ashton Khoury wasn’t waiting for their demands. He was acting, countering their move with another.
Farez lowered the gun to his side. He should have pushed forward with the real goal instead of allowing the first negotiation to fall flat. He knew Khoury couldn’t pay the outlandish sum. That wasn’t the point. Farez wanted the man desperate. It appeared as though he’d succeeded and along the way underestimated how much Khoury wanted his man back.
“Can we—may I ask a question?” Jared leaned forward.
Farez stared at him, unsure questions were wise.
“What is it you really want from Ashton? Because I already told you he doesn’t have the means to get the price tag you’re asking.”
“I want my life back,” Farez said. “We all want our lives back.”
“What did Ashton do to take that away from you?” Jared’s gaze narrowed.
“All we want is to make a living, live our lives, feed our families. You and your boss? You’re trying to end that. The drilling would bring jobs we need.”
“This is about the drilling?” Jared gaped at him, what little light there was reflected off too-white teeth.
“Yes.” Farez scowled. It wasn’t work he wanted to do, but it would bring money into their economy and then maybe his spice shop would be profitable again.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Jared held up his hands. “The drilling is going to kill your fishing industry. No one is going to want to spend tourist dollars if you’ve got a bunch of oil drills making their Instagram backdrop ugly.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve been gathering reports and funding studies on this for two years, ever since there was a whisper this might happen. You might think oil and drilling are what’s going to save you, but it’s going to cause way more problems than it’s worth. That’s why Ashton bought up all the waterfront property. He wants to develop it so the area is independently profitable without everyone needing to go sell themselves to an oil tycoon.”
Farez shook his head. The American didn’t know what he was talking about. Oil was the answer. It had to be.
SATURDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Beirut, Lebanon.
Carla’s fingers flew over the keyboard. With Jared gone, only one of them could fall apart and Ashton had all the right in the world to that. But if they were going to keep this quiet someone had to man the email and keep things going. Ashton was too much of a workaholic to take any real time off. It was why their main office was in their home, so they could work all the time. It made for poor life balance, but it didn’t feel like work when it was the three of them.
She shot off email after email, pretending to be Ashton. It was a good thing they didn’t have any projects in development that needed his personal touch.
Footsteps broke the silence of the condo.
A chill went down Carla’s spine.
Ashton pushed to his feet, sending the heavy chair skidding backward.
Carla pulled her hands off the keys and glanced up as Melody stepped around the corner. She was a petite woman who carried herself like a queen. There was something comforting about Melody that Carla liked right away. Except for now. The slight wrinkle at the corner of her mouth changed everything.
“Did they get him? Are they on their way back?” Ashton asked.
Melody placed her phone on the table then gripped the back of a chair. “The team is returning, but they didn’t get Jared, Mr. Khoury.”
“What?” Ashton’s eyes bulged.
Carla stood and turned toward Ashton, placing her hands on his chest. “They’ll find him. They’ll bring him back.”
At this point Carla would say whatever it took to keep Ashton calm.
“What happened? How did they screw this up?” His voice rose to the breaking point, and he shoved his hands through his hair.
“I don’t have the details, but the team will debrief—”
“I want to know now.” He jabbed a finger in Melody’s direction.
“Were they able to confirm where Jared was? Do they know if he’s still alive?” Carla was now toe to toe with Ashton, his body vibrating with a mix of fear and anger.
“They did make a visual and Jared was alive. It sounds like the team ran into problems.” Melody spread her hands. “That’s all I can tell you.”
“That you aren’t doing the God damn job I hired you for?” Ashton pitched his voice louder, moving into rage rather than fear.
“The team will be here in an hour. I’ll have them prepared to inform you exactly what happened, Mr. Khoury. We still have the situation under control. Not all ops are an easy in and out. I believe Mr. Lloyd told you this when you insisted on accompanying us.”
Ashton took a step forward and walked straight into Carla. “You know what you can do with your excuse?”
“Okay, that’s enough, Ash.” Carla shoved at his chest.
He glanced down at her and blinked.
The fear and anger were taking over. This wasn’t who he was.
She held out her hand. “Come talk to me.”
He blinked a few times then put his hand in hers. He was hurting and lost. She got that. But he didn’t get to act this way as long as Carla was around.
“Melody, please keep us updated?” She got Ashton moving but spared a glance for the unfortunate woman in charge of them.
“Of course.”
Carla turned and marched Ashton toward the stairs. She could feel him fuming, but the most telling was how tightly he held onto her.
Neither spoke a word all the way up to Ashton’s room. Carla shut the door, and he paced across to the windows. She leaned her back against the door and watched him.
What was he going through in his head? How much was he holding in?
“They’re never going to find him, are they?” Ashton turned to look at her, the light at his back casting his face into shadow. She didn’t need to see him to feel the heartache.
“I think they will. You had me read their reviews and vet them, remember?” She pushed off the door and took a few steps forward. “I just—I still think we’re coming at this from the wrong angle.”
“What would you have me do?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and propped his elbows on his knees. His jacket was long gone, and he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. He really was a handsome man.
Carla picked up clothes Ashton had left on the floor. She smoothed them and folded the garments without consciously thinking about what she was doing. “We should at least try my theory. What’s it going to hurt? They didn’t like your counter offer. They know we have people here to try to rescue Jared—”
“Do they?” He sat up. “Do they know I hired the team? Could we—I don’t know—pretend I didn’t know?”
“I guess so,” she said slowly, hugging the small stack of clothes to her chest. It wasn’t logical to her, but she wasn’t going to argue with Ashton right now. Not in his state.
“Call them.” He held out his phone.
She placed the worn clothes on the floor of the closet, taking those moments to collect her thoughts. Her gut said she was right. Was she willing to risk Jared’s life on that? Was
she willing to let the team continue to throw themselves at a solution that might not get them anywhere?
Carla would have preferred Ashton’s show of faith earlier instead of it being a sort of last resort. At least he was listening to her again.
She crossed the room and took the phone.
What if she was wrong?
Her instincts said she was right that this situation was too weird to be what it appeared.
The situation was spiraling one way or the other. Someone had to make a plan to get them on the right path, to bring Jared home. Brute force hadn’t worked. Money hadn’t worked. Why not try a third option? Why not talk to these people? Why not really listen to what they weren’t yet saying?
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll pretend you don’t know what I’m doing, leave a message, something. Okay?”
“Is that your keep quiet statement?” Ashton grimaced.
“Yes.”
“You’d better go into your room, because I don’t think I can...” He closed his eyes, mouth working soundlessly.
She wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll handle it.”
“Like you always do.” His voice broke again, so much emotion bearing down on him.
Carla bent and kissed the top of Ashton’s head. He’d been strong for her countless times. Now, she was going to repay that. She just hoped this wasn’t a massive misstep.
“I’ll be back,” she whispered.
She left his room and entered her own. It was one thing to throw around her theory, but put it into practice? That was a heavy burden.
At least she didn’t have to speak Arabic. The few communications they’d had from the kidnapper was in English.
Carla grabbed a stationary set and jotted her ideas down so if her mind went blank she had something to fall back on. She then unlocked her phone and Ashton’s. This couldn’t wait. When the team arrived, they would have news that would change Ashton’s mind. He was too emotional right now and everything swayed him. It was unnerving. He’d always been the most resolute person she knew, and now he’d lost his foundation.
This was for Ashton and Jared.
She dialed Jared’s number and waited.
The call took a moment to connect, then began to ring. She tapped her fingernails on the desktop and chewed her lower lip.
If teenage her knew she’d be sitting in a condo up in the sky trying to negotiate with kidnappers, she’d never believe it. This wasn’t the path a girl like her was supposed to take.
The line went to voicemail, the auto message rattling off words she didn’t understand. The final beep made perfect sense to her, and she leaned forward, jumping into her list.
“My name is Carla White, I am Ashton Khoury’s girlfriend. I’m assuming the person listening to this message is not Jared. I think—I don’t think money is what you really want. I think you’re after something else and I want to help. I want—”
The call beeped again, cutting her off.
She pulled the phone away from her face.
Had it recorded her? Was the voicemail sent? How long did she wait? How would she know it had been received? Should she condense what she wanted to say and try again?
Carla blew out a breath and turned her head to stare out the glass window of her room.
Now what?
There was still quite some time before the Aegis team arrived. They’d hoped to head back to the airport rather than figure out plans for the evening.
How long was this going to go on for?
Poor Jared...
Her phone clamored to life, the screen flashing and the device nearly vibrating off the glass table.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered and snatched the phone up.
An unknown number.
The kidnappers?
At least, she assumed it was. The country code was correct.
Carla took a deep breath and swallowed before tapping the answer button. “Hello?”
“Your rescue attempt didn’t work,” a man sneered.
“I’m sorry—what?” Carla heard the disbelief in her own voice, but that was more about the kidnapper contacting her than anything else. It had worked.
“The men you sent after us?”
“Look—sir? I don’t know about that. Ashton has many friends who would look out for his interests. I’m not concerned about that.”
“What do you want then?”
“I want to talk about what this is really about.” Carla’s vision shifted from her reflection to the skyline. “This isn’t about money, is it? You know how much Ashton is worth. It’s nowhere near your asking price. But you did that intentionally because money isn’t what you’re after.”
Silence.
She thought she could hear voices in the background, maybe street noise, but not much.
Carla swallowed. She had to keep talking, keep him thinking.
“Are you alright? Is Jared okay? Has anyone been injured?” she asked.
“No.”
No, things weren’t okay, or no, people weren’t injured? She was afraid to ask for clarification.
“My name is Carla. What can I call you?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” She closed her eyes and kept talking. “Sir, I can help this come to a speedy conclusion, but you have to tell me what you really want. Otherwise, we’re all going to be unhappy.”
Silence stretched on. She heard the scuff of footsteps. Was he pacing?
“I want my life back. That’s all any of us want,” he said.
“I’ve been in a powerless situation where I felt like all my choices had been taken from me. That’s not a fun place to be.”
“You know nothing about us, our lives, what we’ve been through.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“Then your Ashton comes in and closes down everything. He stops the deal for the drilling. He’s killing us.”
The man’s voice rose and rose, all while Carla’s head began to spin.
The waterfront properties Ashton had purchased, many were floundering businesses limping along on their last leg. Him buying the properties out from under the owner had allowed those people to not be saddled with debt and a burden they couldn’t shoulder. The other impact was that the employees, they no longer had jobs. But they would have lost them, anyway.
“Sir? Sir, I believe we want the same thing.” She twisted, searching for her laptop, but it was downstairs. “What if I told you every business purchased by Khoury Inc was going to close up in six months time regardless of Ashton purchasing the property?”
“Lies.”
“It’s the truth.” She pushed to her feet. “Are you familiar with the BBR bank? Do you know they are forcing small businesses to pay exorbitant fees because the bank is pulling out of Lebanon? Many family-owned businesses went with them because the upfront terms were favorable, but they didn’t realize it was a trap. And now thousands of people are not able to pay their loans and fees. I did an entire report. I can show you the data. I can give you names. You can look into this yourself. Ashton purchased properties to help people pay off the loans. He’s in discussions with many of those same businesses to reopen. That’s who Ashton is. He believes in supporting those who work hard and want it.”
“What about the oil?”
She stopped in her tracks. “The oil will kill ecosystems. It will decimate the fishing industry. And for what? A few decades of oil production that won’t really be yours because your government will lease the land to foreign companies? At most, some people will be hired to work the sites, but the bulk of the money will go to the government and foreigners. It won’t help you.”
Silence.
“Sir? Let me show you. Do you have an email? I can send you documents, government reports. I’m not lying to you.” Carla held her breath and prayed she’d just found a way out of this.
8.
Saturday. Safe House, Beirut, Lebanon.
Vaughn stared at the door to t
he condo and briefly considered chopping off an appendage to avoid the shit storm that was about to go down.
Grant and the others had no idea how badly this failed op was going to go over because they didn’t know how important Jared was to their client. But Vaughn did.
Here went nothing.
He dragged the suitcase forward and used his keycard to open the door.
A wall of noise hit him so hard he took a step back.
Yeah, it had hit the fan alright.
He waded into the room, picking out the voices.
Ashton and Grant were the loudest. Melody struggled to be heard.
Vaughn placed the last bags down just past the entry then edged closer to the dining table where everyone had gathered. Sure enough, Grant and Melody were on one side with Ashton on the other. Despite Grant’s volume, he was presenting a calm face. Then there was Ashton; red faced, veins bulging, he wasn’t taking the news well.
Where was Carla?
Vaughn glanced around, but she didn’t see her.
“Mr. Khoury? Mr. Khoury, we will do our job.” Grant enunciated each word with force.
“How? How the hell do you plan on fixing this? Huh?” Ashton paced the length of the table.
“We’re going to call in a few reinforcement guys off Troy Team. With three more bodies we can begin surveillance and keep you safe. Remember, we discussed how you accompanying us meant we’d be splitting our focus?”
“Then fucking plan better!” Ashton roared.
“Wow, wow, wow.” Carla breezed past Vaughn and straight to Ashton’s side. She placed her hand on his arm and glanced at Grant. “Does it really help your brains process better if you’re yelling? Everyone sit down and take a breath. Nothing is going to get resolved standing around and shouting.”
Vaughn snorted and had to turn his back on the scene for fear of laughing. This wasn’t a funny moment. It was serious. They’d lost the asset and possibly escalated the situation. It wasn’t a comedic moment or a minor hiccup. But he had to agree with Carla, a calmer discussion would yield better results.
Dangerously Deceived Page 9
