He assures me he’s fine, so I immediately survey our surroundings to get my bearings. Tony and the second car of security guys surround our car, ready to fight off our attackers. Raf’s door is pinned against the building, so I turn and shield him with my body since there’s no way out and nowhere to run. The ruckus outside the car is fierce, with aggressive yelling in Arabic and English. The men start to scuffle, leaving me exposed inside the car. Arms reach in, grabbing at me, trying to pull me out. But I plant my feet against the side of the vehicle and push with all my might, staying between them and Rafael.
Tony dispatches the man who had distracted him then rushes back to help me. Two other members of our detail soon join him, effectively beating back the attack with fists and brawn. The entire scene lasts mere seconds, but it feels like it takes forever. The next thing I see, the attackers run back to their cars. One turns to look at me again before he slides into the passenger seat. He angrily yells something in Arabic…but I distinctly hear him say my name right in the middle of his rant.
Now I’m not so sure Rafael was the intended target after all.
Chapter 1
Roman
Blake and I rush into the Miami airport as if we’ll miss our international flight that doesn’t even leave for three more hours. I’m so keyed up, it’s not even fucking funny. Three years of no word from Tawnee evaporated into the Miami heat when I opened her message. Anything could happen in the eighteen-plus hours it’ll take to reach the Middle East, including the layover time in Paris. Then there’s the issue of actually finding her once we land. But one way or another, that’s precisely what I plan to do. Then I’ll carry her home, kicking and screaming over my shoulder if needed.
Both Silas and Nick are already here, waiting with the flight reservations for Blake and me in hand when we approach them.
“Courtesy of Uncle Sam,” Silas says with a smile when he hands us our itineraries. “Seems there may a need for us to be there in an official capacity after all. We have established contacts in the area who can get us what we need once we land, but there’s a catch. We’re not allowed to carry firearms in the UAE because we’re not Emirati citizens and the sheik won’t give us permission. Our big brass has already tried to convince him. The details are sketchy because Rafael Cruz is a private citizen who travels to foreign countries more than he stays in his own, but word has it he’s involved in a lot more than what we see in his public persona.”
“Such as—what?” Silas is fucking crazy if he thinks he can leave me hanging with a statement like that and get away with it.
“Go check in, then we’ll talk more in the private lounge inside the international terminal.”
I know waiting until we’re in more secure quarters makes sense, but the rational part of my brain has taken a back seat to the impetuous man inside me. The man who wants to rush in with guns blazing and no backup plan. Even though I don’t have a gun on me at the moment and won’t have one for the foreseeable future.
The check-in line is too fucking long.
The agent is too fucking slow.
The people surrounding me are too fucking annoying.
“Look, I know you’re worried about her, but she said she needs evacuation from the country. Not that she’s taking heavy fire and about to be bombarded by cruise missiles. If you don’t chill the fuck out, Silas will leave your ass here, and you know it. If you can’t take the heat of this mission, you need to bow out on your own. Don’t put all our lives plus hers on the line because you can’t control your emotions.” Blake keeps his voice low and controlled, but his aggravation simmers just below the surface.
He’s right, and I know he’s only looking out for me. I never would’ve dared to approach another case with this train of thought. Rash decisions and tunnel vision put my team in even more risk of danger… or worse. They have enough at stake as it is. I take a deep breath and slowly release it, letting the stress leave my mind at the same time. With my thoughts clearer and my attention better focused on the tasks we have to accomplish, I turn to Blake, the man who’s been my best friend for more years than I can remember.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate your kicking my ass and making me deal with the problem at hand.”
“That’s what friends are for, Roman. I know this is more personal than any other mission you’ve ever had, but that’s exactly why you always have to keep a clear head. Regardless of how unnatural that is for you.”
Spoken like a true smartass. But his infusion of humor works, making us both burst out in laughter.
We get through security and find the lounge without a hitch then settle into a private corner with drinks in hand.
“Rafael Cruz made his billions from buying stock in companies until he had enough shares to influence the overall direction. Sometimes, he springs hostile takeovers on companies. His portfolio is vast—the more he makes, the more he invests into both upcoming and existing companies. He’s involved in such varied industries, it’s hard to find a common theme.” Silas stops to sip his vodka.
“But you found one, didn’t you?” I know Silas well enough to know he wouldn’t bring up a specific topic without a good reason.
“I think so. They built Dubai to be a tourist destination because the sheik who owns it realized oil production can last only for so long. It’ll eventually run out, and he didn’t want his country dependent on a single source of income to sustain them. Mr. Cruz has recently started investing in multiple oil conglomerates that all directly compete with that very sheik. In fact, some of his investments even compete with one another.
“The working theory is Cruz’s company is trying to gain the maximum number of shares for each company under the radar. If he succeeds, he’ll ultimately combine them into one company that makes him the biggest oil tycoon in the world. Imagine if the majority of the world had to get their supply from either Cruz or Russia. The boys at Langley are working on pulling the documentation to put the puzzle pieces together.”
“Russia because it’s a state-owned oil company, right?”
“Exactly. And Saudi Arabia’s main production company recently went public. They’re the most profitable company in the world. A Westerner taking over that business would provoke a lot of people in that part of the world.”
“It definitely would. If news of that reached the general public, there would be riots in the street and lynch mobs out for his head. I’ll call my dad when we land and ask if he’s heard anything about someone making a quiet takeover bid for the world’s oil. The time difference between Dubai and South Africa is only two hours.” All I can see is Tawnee in the middle of that chaos, with angry men not caring if she is to blame or not. She’ll be guilty by association, and they’ll kill her because of him.
“What does your dad do?” Nick asks.
“He’s the head chemist for the largest oil production company in South Africa. He moved there a couple of years ago to take over as the leader of his division. Since he’s in senior management, he may be privy to information about potential mergers or acquisitions, but I doubt it. That information is usually reserved for the CEO and the board of directors to avoid massive stock dumps and insider information violations.
“But what we do know is time is of the essence. Silas, did you find out anything about the assassination attempt she mentioned in her message?”
“The oil shares piece is a working assumption. We don’t have concrete evidence of that yet. As far as the message, my sources on the ground relayed information about a car chase that ended in a wreck. By the time the authorities arrived on the scene, the other vehicles involved had fled. They originally listed it as a hit-and-run, but they noted suspicious events surrounding it. Since then, the traffic camera feeds have been scrubbed, and any evidence has disappeared.” Silas raises one eyebrow, conveying his distrust without a word.
“Scrubbed from inside Dubai?” They’re not known for their dishonesty in state affairs, so that information shocks me.
“No, th
ey were hacked from outside their network. Their computer forensics department is working on tracing the hack, but the sophisticated method is taking time to sort out. They’re willing to work with us—to an extent. Remember, we’re foreigners, but we’re still expected to abide by their rules and their laws. They’re lenient with tourists, but only to a certain point. But we’re not entering their country simply as tourists, so don’t expect to be treated as well as their guests would be.”
“So, they know we’re coming in an official capacity and will watch us closer?” Nick asks.
“Exactly.”
Once we’ve mulled over all the details we currently have until we can recite them in our sleep, I stroll over to the bar and have a seat alone. After I’ve been lost in my own thoughts for about an hour, Silas slides onto the bar stool next to me and orders a double shot of vodka. He doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, which I appreciate, but I know it’s coming. Words of wisdom from the great Silas Steele.
“How are you holding up, Roman?”
“On the one hand, I’m okay. On the other, waiting is killing me. I’m not a patient man. You know that.”
“I do. And I know all too well how being impatient can get you hurt or killed. Or worse, get someone else hurt or killed. You don’t want that on your conscience. Trust me.”
All I can do is nod, showing I understand what he’s telling me. He’s worked countless missions, putting his spies in harm’s way every day. I have no doubt Silas felt terrible when his previous asset’s cover was blown, but Tawnee is more than a resource to me.
“Have you stopped to consider why she contacted you after all this time? Why not someone else in Cruz’s organization? He has more than one team. Tawnee doesn’t work nonstop around the clock. So why bring you into the equation, halfway around the world, when she knows you can’t get there immediately?”
“No. I haven’t stepped back and looked at the entire situation as an outsider, honestly. I saw the message, my world blew up, and I started picking up the pieces without asking all the right questions. Do you think they coerced her into it? Are we walking into a trap? And, if so, what could they possibly want from us?” The wheels in my mind are turning at breakneck speed now. I’m not asking all the right questions or considering the various possibilities.
“Stop beating yourself up. If I got the same message from Kira, I’d find a way to teleport across the galaxy to reach her. These are just some of the questions I’m asking after sitting back and examining the entire situation. Something isn’t adding up for me, and I think that variable is one that’s still unknown. I’m not blaming you for not seeing it because I don’t think it’s been revealed to any of us yet.”
“What fun would it be to have all the answers upfront and know exactly what to do when we arrive?” I finish off my whiskey with one large gulp and stand. “Our flight is about to board. I can’t wait to spend eighteen hours in the air with you. We’ll have some great bonding time.”
“Don’t sit close to me.” He throws back his shot and walks over to the others to get his carry-on luggage.
I’m close on his heels, laughing at his dry sense of humor and his way with words. It’s good to have friends to keep me grounded regardless of the chaos around me. I have a strong feeling I’ll need exactly that kind of friend once the wheels touch down on the tarmac in Dubai. When the shit hits the fan and we’re scorching up the roads to find Tawnee—wherever she is.
We board the flight and take our seats in the first-class section. The enclosed window suite gives me plenty of privacy to sleep on the long haul, but I also have way too much time to think. Too many images of what could possibly happen to Tawnee before I reach her. Too many visions of her caught in the crossfire between some underhanded, unscrupulous businessman and his enemies. She’ll do her job and defend him with her life—and he’ll, no doubt, allow it. I’ve never met the man, but I already don’t like him.
My thoughts drift to the last time I saw Tawnee and what our fight was truly about. The topic that kicked off that exact conflict isn’t significant, but the underlying resentment that kept our relationship on edge is all on me. That’s one part of the story I’ve never admitted to Blake, though he knows the truth anyway. It’s not hard to figure out, considering how well he knows me. My reluctance to commit fully to her—to be a couple—created a sore spot between us that never healed.
Her words during that confrontation have haunted me since the day she left.
“Roman, do you want to be with me or not?” She met my gaze without hesitation, but then, that was just Tawnee in a nutshell. She stood her ground and never backed down from a fight.
“If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t be.”
“Do you really think that answer is sufficient?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at me, her eyes narrowed and her normally full lips pulled into a tight line.
“It’s the truth. What more do you need? Our relationship is self-explanatory. We’re together, so that means we each want to be with the other.”
Her hands flew to her forehead then her fingers started kneading her temples. She worked to remain calm, but the anger and frustration were building inside her like a volcano about to explode. “You have about thirty seconds to make this right, Roman. I’m not exaggerating, and I’m not being overly emotional.”
“I don’t know how you expect me to make it right. I don’t even know what’s wrong. We have a great relationship, sweets. What more do you want from me?”
“Roman, we’ve been together long enough now that we either move forward together or we should go our separate ways. I’m not some young kid fresh out of college. I know what I want. If you’re still on the fence after all this time, tell me now so I’ll know what I should do next.”
“You know, pushing me into marriage before I’m ready won’t work out well for either of us.”
“Marriage? You think I’m pushing you into marriage? Why the hell would I want to marry you when you won’t even commit to an exclusive relationship with me?”
“What are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Well, isn’t that a relief.” Her words dripped with sarcasm. “You’re still waiting to see if someone better comes along. You’ve never said you love me. You’ve never talked about our future—how you see it, what you want, nothing. Apart from when we’re literally having sex, we live completely separate lives. Is that all you want from us?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m content with our current arrangement. I think it works out well for both of us. We both have independent personalities, and we like our separate space. Why ruin a good thing by changing it now? You know the old saying, ‘Don’t fix what’s not broken.’ Well, I’m not broken, so stop trying to fix me.”
“I’m not trying to ‘fix you’ or change you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is for you to man up and finally tell me what it is you want for us—as a couple. For our future. For our relationship. For you and me together. Do you think you can manage that?”
“I don’t think of it in those terms, Tawnee. I don’t say, ‘Roman, in exactly sixteen-and-a-half months, you’re going to ask Tawnee to move in with you. Then, exactly five-years-and-nine-months later, you’ll ask her to marry you. Then ten-years-eleven-months-and-twenty-nine-days after that, you’ll start thinking about getting married. Then double that time, and you’ll start thinking about having kids.’ I’m more of a take-it-day-by-day kind of man.”
The change in her expression and demeanor was instantaneous. Her face fell and her shoulders drooped. I saw something on her face I’d never seen before—defeat. She’d accepted it and waved the white flag of surrender in that very moment. While I never meant to hurt her, I realized that’s exactly what my snide remark did. I confirmed all her suspicions and concerns about me and killed her love for me in the span of a few seconds with careless words. I wanted to take it all back right th
en—I wanted to drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness.
But I didn’t.
I stayed rooted to my spot, hanging on to my pride instead of showing my true feelings.
It’s not that I didn’t love her; I just assumed she knew.
“Tawnee, look, let’s not do this right now. Let’s both just calm down, and we can talk about this rationally later.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Roman. You’ve made your feelings and intentions crystal clear to me now. If nothing else, I do appreciate that, but I can’t stay here with you one minute longer. I am calm, and I am rational—so don’t expect my decision to change anytime soon.”
“What are you talking about—what decision? You’re not acting like yourself. Are you on your period or something? Oh fuck. You’re not pregnant, are you? I definitely can’t handle that shit right now.”
Famous last words of a fool.
Chapter 2
Tawnee
“Tony, it’s been two days since the incident. The report from the local police should be available now. Call them to ask if we can get a copy and see what else you can find out about their investigation. I’m sure there’s information they’re withholding from the general public, but we need eyes on everything we can get.
“Tabitha, Mr. Cruz’s meeting is scheduled for next week, but he can’t be late again when it’s time to go. You know how he is about punctuality, and it’s considered incredibly rude in this culture. They were very gracious about our mishap this week. Map out a new route and note any possible deviations so we’re not caught unaware when we’re on the move again.
“Carter and Jason, you two comb through the local news, online forums, and the dark web. Investigate anyone who posts or comments about the details. No one has claimed credit for it yet, which leads me to believe there’ll be a follow-up attempt.
HARD LINE Page 2
