“Ain’t that peachy?” Arcan sat up. He ripped the clear plastic that covered the IV needle and pulled it out of his vein. Cole turned off the heart-monitoring device. Arcan pulled the nodes from his chest and also yanked the oxygen tubes from his nostrils.
Cole opened the overnight bag he’d brought and laid out some undergarments, clothes, and for some reason, a pair of work boots.
Arcan picked up the clothes and frowned. “Seriously? A janitor uniform?”
Cole made a face. “I’d swap it for a doctor’s jacket, but you’ll look suspicious. Ever see a movie where Arnold Schwarzenegger played a doctor?”
“He played a kindergarten teacher before,” Arcan argued as he dressed up.
“Yeah, and we know how convincing he was.”
“Shut up.”
Cole opened the door and took a peek outside. “You ready?”
Arcan nodded.
“The nurses’ station is fifteen feet to the left. Unfortunately, you have to walk past them to get to the elevator. I’ll distract them so you can pass by. Wait for my signal.”
“Roger that.”
Cole adjusted his tie and smoothed out the creases of his custom made Saville Row suit. Among the pride, Cole was the master of flirting. Arcan peered from the slightly ajar door as Cole sauntered to the nurses’ station. As expected, the nurse in charge immediately fussed over Cole. The Casanova seemed to be complaining about his elbow. He rolled up his sleeve and made the nurse take a closer look.
As soon as the nurse was preoccupied, Cole signaled him with his free hand.
Arcan walked out. He hunched so he didn’t look as tall as his normal height. When he walked past the nurses’ station, Cole whined in such a way that the nurse only focused on Cole.
Arcan grinned. Cole was such a flirty bastard.
He got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Two minutes later, the heat and the bright sun welcomed him outside.
He strode to the nearest flowerbed and pretended to pick up some weeds so he wouldn’t look suspicious while he waited for his cousin, but Cole took his sweet time charming the nurse, and Arcan started to get impatient. He still felt weak from his injuries. And above all, he was famished. The bread he’d eaten earlier didn’t help much. The beastly part of him needed sustenance. Preferably steaks. Rare. And a lot of them.
Somebody cleared his throat behind him.
It was Cole. “If you were my gardener, I’d fire you on the spot. You’re pulling the flowers instead of the weeds.”
“Shut up. They all look the same to me.” He shoved the stuff he’d picked into the bushes and dusted his hands. “Did you drive here or come by taxi?”
“A friend of mine drove me.” Cole put his hands into his trouser pockets, a habit of his if he was waiting for someone. “Ah, there he is.”
A black SUV with dark tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Arcan followed Cole into the vehicle. The car lurched onto the street, leaving the hospital building behind.
For the next two days, Arcan spent most of his time recuperating from his injuries. The pride had made a base camp in Cole’s friend’s house in Al-Bashra. The whole pride had come to help, including Jennifer, the alpha’s mate, who was currently five months’ pregnant.
Caly, Jax’s mate, had a long connection to the Army and was able to recruit several former Rangers for Yazmina’s retrieval. Since this was a mixed operation, Cyeon had agreed that the pride wouldn’t go lion.
One of the former Rangers, Brent Waggoner, was an intel specialist. He went undercover to gather information about Yazmina and the men who’d shot Arcan. Forty-eight hours later, he returned.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Brent asked Cyeon when they were all assembled in the living room.
“What’s the bad news?” said Cyeon.
“The bad news is I know the people who took the Princess.”
The team had nicknamed Yazmina “the Princess” because she was a daughter of a sheikh. In the Arab world, the title of sheikh was bestowed on the leader of a tribe who carried royal blood. And the Al-Rahad family had close connections to the Saudi ruling dynasty.
“Then what’s the good news?” asked Cyeon.
“The Princess is all right. She’s being detained in the family compound downtown. It would be impossible to penetrate the compound without having a lot of firepower. However, I learned that they plan to move the Princess to Jebeel Hafeet, on the outskirts of Al-Ain, home of the Bedouin chief, at six hundred hours. The convoy will be in three SUVs.” Brent laid out a map and circled a few spots. “These are the most likely routes they’ll take. I suggest we ambush them here.” Brent marked the spot with an X.
The others studied Brent’s plan.
“Who are the people who took Yazmina?” asked Arcan. “I doubt they’re regular Joes.”
“They’re Blue Ocean contractors. They’re pros. Their base is in Arkansas, and I heard they got a big contract from the government during the height of the Iraq War. Since the government pulled troops out of Iraq, the work is dwindling, and I guess they’ll take any kind of gig they can get.”
“Blue Ocean?” Cyeon repeated. “Are they good?”
“They’re excellent, even though they aren’t as big as Blackwater was. I know the owner, son of a bitch named Gant, only recruits the best talent.”
“What are the odds we’ll be able to retrieve Yazmina?” Arcan asked.
“I’d say about sixty-percent. I bet all my ten fingers they haven’t anticipated pros like us ambushing the convoy and retrieving the Princess. If we have ten more men, our odds will increase exponentially.”
“I think our odds will be better. I know someone who has some highly trained animals that can assist in this operation,” said Cyeon.
Arcan couldn’t help but smile. Alpha had found a way to go lion after all.
“What kind of animals?” Brent didn’t look too sure.
“Lions. Big bad lions.”
“Those animals are going to be slaughtered by the Blue Ocean contractors.”
“Like I said, the animals are highly trained. They’re smart enough not to be caught in the middle of a firestorm.”
Brent and the other former Rangers looked at one another.
“Are these animals insured? We don’t want to be stuck with a heavy penalty if these animals get shot.”
“Leave that to me,” said Cyeon. “You handle the main operation, and I’ll enlist the help in this retrieval operation.”
Chapter Eight
On the second day on her confinement, Fatah finally told her of their plan. Chief Jabbur wanted Yazmina no matter what. Fatah explained that Chief Jabbur was willing to forgive Yazmina’s offense, as he was looking for an ally to strengthen his tribe. Having an Al-Rahad as one of his wives would give him a certain prestige and elevate his status.
Daneem, her second oldest brother, preached to her that she should be thankful that a man like Chief Jabbur had shown them his generous mercy. Without Chief Jabbur’s generosity, Yazmina would likely spend the rest of her life being shunned. She’d brought disgrace upon the family.
They woke her up early on the day of the move. Her brother packed her with the mercenaries in one of three SUVs. She was dressed in complete abaya and niqāb—only her eyes were visible.
She sat quietly in the back seat of the SUV. No one talked to her. No one was permitted to do so.
They left the compound a little after six. The temperature was nice, but it was a bit cloudy. Yazmina knew it wouldn’t be long. Once they entered the desert, only arid wind and dry heat would be their companions.
She thought of Arcan as they rode towards the Bedouin home.
The pain in her heart became unbearable. She made a vow to not let Jabbur touch her. She didn’t care about the consequences. She’d given her heart and body to Arcan—no other man could take her.
The journey seemed like forever. The heat rose as the sun moved toward its zenith. They’d left the city limits a whil
e ago and they were in the midst of a rural area. Yazmina predicted that they’d reach their destination after sunset.
The SUV slowed to a halt. Yazmina wondered what was going on. The SUV behind her beeped twice. One man got out of the vehicle and shouted to the driver in the front.
“What’s the hold up?”
“I can’t move. There are some animals blocking the road. Lions.”
“What’s blocking the road?”
“Lions!”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
Yazmina’s driver grumbled. “What the hell is going on?”
She perked up when she heard the word “lions.” Could it be? Had Arcan come to help her?
Is it really him?
She tried to pry the window open to see what was going on, but had no luck. The window was stuck, and she wasn’t strong enough to break it.
Then the gunfire started.
Instinctively, she ducked. The glass shattered over her head. There were shouts and the roar of animals. She could only guess at the carnage taking place outside.
More men screamed in pain. The smell of burnt ammo reached her nose. The fight was on, but she couldn’t summon the courage to take a peek. It would be foolish to put herself in the line of fire.
“Yazmina…”
She became puzzled. It felt like someone had spoken inside her head.
“Yazmina!”
She searched for the owner of the voice. It was Arcan. He was near.
“Yazmina,” a voice called through the broken window.
She tilted up her head. “Arcan!”
“Give me your hand! We’ll get you out of here.”
Carefully, she climbed through the window. Arcan scooped her up and carried her in his arms.
Yazmina couldn’t contain her tears. “How did you…? I thought you were dead!”
“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried.
Arcan was alive.
She was saved.
Chapter Nine
Fatah Al-Rahad sat in front of a magnificent teakwood desk he’d imported from Bali. Usually, books, papers, writing instruments, and his high-powered laptop were sprawled on this desk. This time, he only had a five-thousand-piece wooden jigsaw puzzle on it. It was custom-made, and the picture depicted a pride of lions frolicking in the Serengeti sun.
This pride of lions was unique. Usually, a common pride consisted of a ruling male alpha, a couple of younger males, some lionesses and cubs. This particular pride consisted of only male lions.
The puzzle he was working on right now was from a picture he’d snapped himself two years prior when he was on vacation in Tanzania. His girlfriend back then was a scientist who studied the Serengeti ecosystem. His interest in wildlife had started because of her. At that time, his curiosity about that specific pride had led him into some extensive research about lions.
Indeed, such a pride was damnably unique. Perhaps it was an anomaly that it existed in the world. Fatah could barely contain his excitement when he discovered their secret. That abnormal pride had turned out to be shapeshifters. A group of humans with an abnormal genetic disposition that allowed them to change into animals at will. It bent the laws of physics and put a hole in the theory of evolution.
Fatah himself was a realist at heart, but born as the heir of a wealthy sheikh, he had to hide his idealistic views to fit in. The people where he came from were religious and judgmental, with thousand-year-old customs that sometimes suffocated him. He was glad that he’d spent most of his youth overseas, studying in Great Britain and America. His education had enabled him to widen his knowledge and his views.
Once he’d stumbled on the K’stal pride, Fatah had semi-obsessively observed them. Their mating habits. Their adaptability with the environment. He’d learned everything he could about them. And he kept it to himself. He never intended to share it with the world.
The K’stal pride was his delightful little secret.
The wooden puzzle was almost complete—only three pieces left. Fatah paused for a cup of warm tea. He eyed the puzzle pieces. Like the puzzle, soon his plan would come to fruition. He’d calculated every possibility that could go wrong with his plan, but he was confident that as long as he pushed the pawns in the correct direction, everything would go as planned.
His beloved sister would be able to leave the country with the man she loved.
Fatah put down his cup and finished the puzzle. He looked at it with blossoming pride. He’d enjoyed complicated games like this one ever since he was little. Unlike his father, who’d always been brash in making decisions. The Al-Rahad family had been wealthy for five generations. His grandfather had been a shrewd merchant. Unfortunately, his father wasn’t. His father was a spendthrift and a bad businessman. Under his father, their family fortune had been dwindling from its former glory, but Fatah planned to restore that. As soon as he got his master’s degree from Cambridge, he’d persuade his father to retire, and he’d put everything in order.
His younger brothers, Daneem and Murtaza, were more like their father—hotheaded and rash. When they heard that their youngest sibling had run away from the arranged marriage, Daneem’s first reaction was to punish Yazmina for her defiance. Daneem had flown in from Los Angeles screaming about an honor killing.
The Al-Rahad family was known as modern and progressive in the tight religious community and never allowed themselves to be associated with extremists, but his second younger brother had mingled with the wrong crowd in L.A. Luckily, Fatah was able to put a lid on it and promised his father he’d handle everything appropriately.
The door of his study room crashed open and Daneem marched inside. “They’ve taken Yazmina!” Daneem looked upset.
“Who?” Fatah pretended he was shocked.
“I don’t know! Murtaza said it was the same people who took her in the first place. That American—the Yankee.”
“Daneem, how many times have I told you, not all Americans are Yankees. During the civil war—”
“Yankee… whatever, we have to get her back! How can we face Father when he learns Yazmina has been snatched away again? How can he face Chief Jabbur?”
Yes, indeed. How could Father face Chief Jabbur in the first place when that damn Bedu asked for my sister as payment for the cursed horse? Fatah thought darkly. He had opposed his father’s decision strongly from the beginning. It was a laughable demand at first. At least that was what he thought. How dare that filthy man from the backwater desert ask his father to give up his only daughter? It was preposterous. Only Fatah hadn’t calculated how much influence Chief Jabbur had on his father. He couldn’t fathom what his father was thinking when he decided to give up Yazmina. It was unimaginable! But the worst was yet to come. Fatah was left to fend off the unwelcome questions from relatives and friends while his father strutted around haughtily as if he’d done a righteous thing; he was a man of his word.
Fatah had sworn it would be the last foolishness his father would ever do.
He also knew that Yazmina had been crushed by her father’s decision, but as a girl, she didn’t have a voice. From a spy Fatah had planted in the house, he found out that his sister was planning a daring escape. He admired her guts. However, Yazmina’s plan was full of holes. Their cousins in New York would never betray his father; they were deeply indebted to the family. If Yazmina went to them, Fatah had no doubt they’d sell her out. Besides, Fatah didn’t want his sister arriving in America in a crate. There had to be another way to save her without anyone knowing he’d helped.
A friend in immigration had notified him that one of the Rarhs had come to Dubai, and Fatah saw this as an opportunity to help Yazmina. His sister needed somebody who was strong and wouldn’t be influenced by the long reach of the Al-Rahad family. Fatah himself couldn’t contain his excitement when he thought of matching his sister with Arcan Rarh. Rarh was single, and he was well off. His personality and demeanor
had made Fatah sure he’d take good care of Yazmina.
And the opportunity presented itself.
Fatah ordered his men to capture Arcan Rarh while he was in his lion form and put him on the same ship as his sister. He arranged to have the captain throw Yazmina into the lion cage.
It was a big gamble, but it paid off.
Having studied the K’stal pride for the last two years, Fatah knew none of them would turn away from anyone who needed them.
Fatah’s intricate plan went into motion.
However, it didn’t go quite as he’d expected. Daneem sneaked behind his back and hired some mercenaries to retrieve Yazmina; the hired muscle had even wounded Rarh.
Fatah stepped in when Yazmina was retrieved by the mercenaries. He knew, deep inside, that Arcan Rarh would do anything to get Yazmina back.
Like pieces of a puzzle that fit into the picture, Fatah’s prediction came true. Arcan and his pride had come for Yazmina.
The last piece of the puzzle was for him to execute his part.
Fatah had to distract Daneem and his henchmen so Yazmina could safely leave the country.
“Did you tell Father about this?” asked Fatah, putting out an air of disapproval.
“Yes. Father contacted the police to put a watch on the borders. Ten minutes ago, we had a hit.”
“We did?” Fatah was alarmed.
“They reported that a man matching the description of the one who took Yazmina was spotted in Dubai Airport. We need to be there when they arrest him.”
Fatah got up immediately. “Have Nasri prepare the car. We have no time to spare.”
Dubai International Airport was one of the busiest airports in the world. When Fatah and Daneem arrived in the marble-gleaming atrium, the director of the facility and the captain of the Dubai police were waiting for them. They briefly exchanged greetings.
“Our security personnel noted that a Caucasian man similar to the wanted person boarded a South African Airways flight not long ago. A hundred and ninety-two centimeters tall, a hundred kilograms in weight. Blond hair. The station master has ordered the plane not to take off, giving us chance to capture this person,” the airport director explained.
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