A muffled bang split the room. In front of her, Noel faltered, stumbled and gripped the podium, confusion and sudden fear rippling across his face. Had anyone else heard that? Of course not, Yasmine realized—this was a room used for official broadcasts and recordings, and would most definitely be soundproofed from the rest of the building’s noise.
Noel’s eyes met hers, and she saw the agony of defeat the moment before her gaze was drawn to the drip of red against the room’s gray carpet. Noel clutched at his leg, grimacing.
General Stark stood at the Pentagon Press Briefing Room door. Special Agent John Crais stood with him, Stark’s gun now pressed into his side.
“Hello, Special Agent Black. Miss Browder. I think it’s about time we met, don’t you?”
* * *
“General Stark.” At his side, Yasmine hissed the name through clenched teeth. Noel wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but it was all he could do to cling to the podium and remain upright. The shot had hit his upper leg, immediately dredging up old fears and doubt. What if it took years to heal again? What if this shot had just taken away everything he’d worked so hard for...and what if he couldn’t protect Yasmine from whatever happened next? He prayed silently that the wound was superficial enough to allow him to act if he had the chance. I refuse to be terrified or discouraged, Lord, he prayed. I know You’re with Yasmine, and I believe You’re with me, too.
“Either of you decide to play the hero, and the next one goes through his stomach.” General Stark shoved Crais away from him. Crais stumbled forward, coming to a stop between Stark and Yasmine. Stark waved his gun as he spoke as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Or your mentor’s skull, Agent Black. It’ll be far more difficult to explain away than what happened to Miss Browder’s brother, but I feel that there’s a good story to be concocted here about a new agent being unable to handle the pressures of the Bureau. Or something about how you were both involved in a plot against the United States, blah blah, national security. You know the buzzwords as well as I do.”
He did. And Noel had no doubt that General Stark had the connections and the finances to cover this up or explain it away without question, just as he’d done so far. As vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who could stand against his word? And if anyone tried to oppose him, he’d simply have them killed. Just like he’d admitted doing to Daniel.
The man was a murderer, plain and simple.
Noel’s hope faded as their options seemed to drain away, but when he glanced at Yasmine, he nearly lost his grip on the podium. She appeared not only determined but also...assured. The hard mask on her face exuded a confidence that he had trouble finding inside himself. Where was that coming from?
Did it matter? He loved her all the more for it.
“So you admit you had my brother killed,” she said, almost shouting her words. Why was she speaking so loud? They were the only ones in the room.
Or were they?
“An unavoidable casualty, Miss Browder,” Stark said, stepping forward. He lowered his gun and held it at his side as though he didn’t even expect resistance. The man was fearless. “But your brother was snooping around in things that were none of his business.”
“None of his business? I think the safety of American soldiers is everyone’s business, especially for someone like Daniel, who believed in the work he did at the inspection facility—work you deliberately sabotaged for your own financial gain. Falsified inspection reports put good soldiers at risk, General, and you had my brother murdered for trying to keep this country safe. Just like you’re supposed to be doing. How can you live with yourself?”
Noel watched for surprise or shock to flit across the general’s face—something, anything, that said they had him backed into a corner. Instead, General Stark laughed.
“Financial gain?” He laughed again, his shoulders shaking with cruel mirth. “You stupid, shortsighted fools. Have you not been paying attention at all?” He held up his hand and gestured with two fingers. Suddenly five men in black armor poured out from behind the Department of Defense backdrop and fell into formation around the room, surrounding them.
“Back entrance,” Noel muttered, feeling like one of the fools Stark accused them of being. “There’s a prep room behind the backdrop. Of course. I should have known.”
“Yes, you should have. I can get anyone into anywhere, even the most secure building in the country. Haven’t you figured that out by now?” General Stark gave Noel a bemused look. “And my dear Miss Browder, financial gain was never my aim. Yes, I ordered the facility to falsify the inspection reports, but the only person getting financial kickbacks was Anthony Clarke, and I imagine he used some of that to ensure his employees remained cooperative. You’d be surprised how a little boost in one’s bank account can encourage a person to cooperate without question.”
Noel’s rage increased as the general spoke. Yasmine was right—this man was responsible for keeping the country safe, and yet he’d deliberately put his own men, the country’s own protectors, at unnecessary risk. “Your corruption is despicable, sir.” Noel resisted the sudden urge to spit at the man’s feet. “You’ve betrayed everything this country stands for, everything this facility we stand inside of works to protect.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Stark took several quick steps toward Noel, his anger finally surfacing. “I’ve always served my country, and I would do anything necessary to protect its interests. There is no corruption here, no personal gain.”
“Then where is the money going?” Yasmine shouted at him, her entire body leaning forward as if she was prepared to attack at any moment. “Who does the mystery account belong to?” General Stark faltered. He blinked, then peered at Yasmine as though seeing her for the first time. “That’s right. We know all about the money trails. Emails, financial reports, everything. We have proof of your corruption. We can even show you. How do you answer for that?”
“Oh, you will show me. I’m afraid that’s the sort of information that I’ve trained my black ops team to dispose of, regardless of the source. Digital, human, it doesn’t matter. That’s how I keep America safe, Miss Browder. My team is under my leadership alone, not beholden to the restrictive laws of the land, because our enemies don’t play by the same rules we do.”
Like a candle lit in a dark room, General Stark’s words illuminated everything. The attacks on Yasmine. How their attackers knew Noel was FBI and understood how to try to stop him from protecting her. The constant, unrelenting pursuit of Yasmine, whose brother might have told her what he’d found out about the inspection facility—and why the soldier who’d shot at Yasmine in the diner would be willing to take his own life rather than give up even one word of information. Stark had developed an obedient, lethal and highly illegal black ops team made up of soldiers supposedly killed in action that had no true oversight—because he was the oversight.
Money could accomplish almost anything, including getting a team of deadly soldiers into the Pentagon under the general’s orders, just like it convinced an inspection facility operator to lie on his inspection reports and get those reports passed through multiple levels of gatekeepers at the Department of Defense.
The general’s influence and reach, his solitary control of massive finances and his position of power in the government had enabled him to develop a covert, unregulated team that operated under the radar.
General Stark’s face split in a slow, wide grin. “I can see that you understand now. And of course, that means you’ll also understand why I can’t allow you to leave this room. My men will take care of the mess and no one will ever be the wiser. I assure you, Special Agents, Miss Browder, that this country will be a better place thanks to your sacrifice. We can’t have you exposing this operation and bringing something so pedestrian as legality into this, you realize. Boys? On my signal.”
He raised his hand, fingers pointed upward. Th
e five black-clad operatives that surrounded them dropped into a firing stance and aimed their weapons.
Noel couldn’t act. The pain in his leg had worsened, and there were too many operatives around the room for Crais and Yasmine to take on.
This was it. The end for all of them. There was no escaping this time, despite everything they’d done—despite everything he’d done to keep Yasmine safe.
I’m sorry, he wanted to say, but Yasmine wasn’t looking at him. Did she blame him for this? He’d thought they felt the same way about each other, and if his life had to end right here and right now, he would do whatever he could to spare her pain.
He tensed his muscles, ready to leap from the podium and cover her with his body. Maybe God would be merciful and he could shield her from the end. Maybe Stark would accept his and Crais’s deaths and let her go. Maybe—
“Ready,” said Stark.
It would never work. Noel knew that deep inside. But if they were going to die, he wanted the end to come with her name on his lips.
“Aim,” said Stark.
“Yasmine,” Noel whispered, hoping she would turn and look at him. But she didn’t. He spoke to her anyway. “I love you.”
Stark’s smile grew wider.
SEVENTEEN
“Wait!” Yasmine shouted.
Stark’s smile faltered. His fingers shook with tension as they pointed upward, only a blink away from slicing through the air with the order that would end the lives of three people inside the room. In that moment of hesitation, when she knew without a doubt that the man was not bluffing, she struck.
“Wave to the camera, General Stark.” She raised her arm and pointed to the blinking red light at the upper back corner of the room.
Stark’s smile vanished completely. “Hold your fire,” he growled. His gaze flicked up at where she pointed. “What...?”
“It’s been a fascinating broadcast, General,” she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. Adrenaline surged through her body, giving her another momentary respite from the pain of the past few days. She didn’t know for sure if the broadcast had worked or if the files had appeared on-screen the way she’d tried to program into the system during the few minutes they’d had in the tech room. She prayed that she’d gotten it right, and that would have to do.
“It’s being broadcast live,” Noel said beside her, his voice increasing in strength and tinged with wonder. “Throughout the Pentagon. And on the Department of Defense website, thanks to the Department’s very forward-thinking policy of streaming your daily briefing sessions.”
He glanced at Yasmine, and her heart soared. “Now the whole country knows what you’ve been doing,” she said.
General Stark’s complexion paled and then reddened in a burst of anger. “What have you done?” With a shout, he raised his gun and aimed at Yasmine. Time seemed to slow down as she saw his finger itch along the trigger, tensing—
And then the doors to the Press Briefing Room flew open as swarms of heavily armed soldiers, agents and Pentagon Police poured into the room to disarm Stark and his operatives.
It was over, and Stark knew it. Fighting back would end in nothing but bloodshed on both sides, and by surrendering, he could at least try to defend himself in military court. He’d lose, Yasmine knew, but the man was too proud to admit defeat before he’d exhausted all his options.
And in that moment, as the general lifted his face to look at her, she realized he had one option left that she hadn’t considered. A defiant echo of a smile crossed his face. His jaw twitched.
“No!” Yasmine shouted and Noel, spurred to action and likely realizing what the general was about to do in the same moment she did, launched himself toward the vice chairman.
Noel shoved his fingers inside the general’s mouth and yanked as the man gagged. Noel’s hand slid out holding a small white capsule.
“Tell your men to stand down or I promise that you’ll be tried for the murder of each and every one of them.” Noel handed the cyanide capsule to Crais, who tucked it away for safekeeping. “You know the system. You’ll get a fair trial in military court, but if even one of your operatives ends his life today while in custody, you can kiss your chances of ever seeing the sun again goodbye. Order your men to remove their capsules.”
Stark’s features hardened. He’d thought he had one more round in the chamber, and they’d blocked it.
“We won’t ask again,” said Crais. “Remember, this is all being broadcast around the world. You could use whatever miniscule goodwill this will give you.”
“Hah! You think you’ve won? You may have those of us in this room, but my men have a mission and they will carry it out. Your pathetic attempts haven’t stopped a thing.”
“Watch us.”
Stark glared at Crais, but the man didn’t budge. After several tense moments, Stark looked at the nearest black-clad operative, who knelt on the floor with his hands over his head. With nothing but a nod from Stark, the operative opened his mouth. The rest followed suit. Crais circled the room, pulling the cyanide capsules from their mouths, ensuring none could choose death over answering for their crimes.
Yasmine stared after Stark and the operatives as the Pentagon Police led them away. “I think it’s over. We did it.”
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched in surprise—but seeing Noel’s face only inches from hers brought her back to reality, and she fell into his arms. When he stumbled, she pulled away, suddenly remembering his injury. “You need medical attention!”
“Yes,” he said, but his jaw tensed as he pulled her back into his arms. “But you need to get out of here, too.”
She thought she’d heard him wrong. “What? No! It’s over, Noel. We did it. We exposed Stark and his operation. We know who was after me and who killed Daniel. They can’t hurt us again.” Her heart ached as he shook his head. Did he not love her, after all? Had he said that only in the heat of the moment and now realized that he didn’t actually mean it?
Crais appeared at Noel’s side, taking his mentee by the arm to help Noel remain upright. “He’s correct, Miss Browder. We may have cut off the head of the snake, but you’re not out of the woods yet, not while the rest of Stark’s black ops team is out there under orders to terminate you. Until they’re identified and stopped, they’ll continue to follow orders. That’s how these kinds of teams work.”
“But... I can’t.” Blood pounded in Yasmine’s ears, sending fear surging through her veins worse than when General Stark had pointed a gun at her temple. “Not when we’ve just found each other again. I thought this was over. I thought when we stopped him—”
Noel’s hand slipped behind her head and pulled her toward him, silencing her with a strong, firm kiss full of promise. She felt the love and yearning in the press of his lips against hers, and as he released her, she knew the pain in his eyes reflected the same in her own.
“The director of the FBI and the Secretary of Defense have both promised to guarantee your safety,” said Crais. He held up his phone. “I’m on the line right now. We’re going to get you out of here. It’s not safe. We don’t know if there are other operatives loyal to Stark inside the building, but there’s a rear exit out of this room that will take us directly to a waiting vehicle.”
It was all happening so suddenly. Yasmine felt like her freedom and their victory had been snatched away without warning, and she swayed on her feet.
Noel kept his hand behind her head and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll come back to you. The FBI will keep you hidden until the danger to you has passed. For your own safety, I probably won’t know where you are, but I’m going to find these men, and then I’m going to find you.”
“Promise?” Yasmine’s voice wavered, but she didn’t try to stop the show of emotion. She couldn’t. Not this time. She was done being strong.
“I promise we�
��ll be together again.” He kissed her softly. “And this time, Yasmine Browder, it’s not going to take ten years.”
EIGHTEEN
Two months later
Yasmine sat on the oversized couch in the FBI safe house, a cup of vanilla rooibos tea in her hands. She wanted to open the blinds and enjoy the sunshine, but she’d been under strict orders since being relocated here—her third safe house in only eight weeks—not to look through an open window. There’d been no additional attacks against her since General Stark had been taken into custody, but every time she was transferred to a new safe house, she heard whispers of nearby activity. She assumed that the FBI moved her every time one of the black ops men got too close. Regardless of the reason, she was grateful for the efforts the FBI and the Department of Defense were making to keep her safe.
A knock startled her as she took a sip of tea, sending it sloshing against the back of her tongue and scalding the inside of her mouth. Who could be at the door? She knew she wasn’t supposed to let anyone inside without FBI approval, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look through the peephole to see who was there.
She set down her mug and stood as her phone buzzed on the coffee table. A quick glance at it said she’d received a text message from Crais. You have a visitor, said the text. That was strange. How did Crais know?
She crossed the room to the front door and looked through the peephole—then gasped in surprise. She couldn’t unlock and open the door fast enough, suddenly feeling as though she’d stepped inside a dream.
Noel stood on the porch, holding a massive bouquet of gorgeous pink and red hibiscus—the national flower of the Kingdom of Amar—and a large, white box. The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as he gave her a shy smile. “Can I come in?”
She nodded, all her practiced greetings evaporating like smoke. For two months, she’d thought about this conversation and what she’d say to him if they ever saw each other again.
Outside the Law Page 17
