Necessary Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  “Let me lay this out here.” Piers cleared his throat. “Zak is helping one of the major terrorist leaders plan something. He’s using Saudi money to fund it. And there’s a problem guy named Nasar in the pipeline somewhere. Does that cover it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You holding back on anything?”

  “No.”

  “How did Jabir factor into this?”

  “He’s where the money was coming from. But he hasn’t given us all of it yet.”

  “Anything else?” Piers asked.

  “No.”

  “Alright. Start driving.” He nodded at the road.

  Ivy bit her cheek to keep from saying anything.

  Muhammad knew more. She knew it and Piers had to as well, but he was the one who knew what to do now. Not her.

  She scooted over to sit behind Muhammad where she could see Piers. He glanced at her then the road as the van got moving.

  “Put your headphones on and keep us headed to Al Hofuf,” he said.

  Muhammad muttered something, but grabbed a large pair of headphones and fit them on his head while driving with his other hand.

  Piers slid through the two chairs and nodded at the back of the van. She let him go first, then gathered her skirts and scooted back to join him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, unable to wait for him to launch into it.

  “We’re going to meet up with some CIA contacts of mine. I texted them earlier, just after we left Jabir’s. They’re going to take Muhammad in, see what else they can get out of him. If everything goes well, they’ll have a passport for you. We’ll keep going across the Qatar border and fly out of Doha to anywhere that’s not here.”

  “Okay.” She liked the idea of getting out of Saudi Arabia at this point. “What about Jabir? Does he know?”

  “No idea. I took apart my phone. That guard will blow our cover if you knocking Jabir out doesn’t. Best to assume we’re completely burned and keep our heads down.”

  “What about the attack?” She opened and closed her mouth.

  “Do you remember anything from the plane? Anything at all?”

  “No.” She grimaced. “I slept well, woke up feeling hungover.”

  “Whatever they’re planning on using this air-delivery system for, I doubt it’s going to be to give people hangovers.”

  “How would the air in our cabin have been filtered from yours? Or Jabir’s? Or the cockpit.”

  “Jabir went through a period where he thought everyone was trying to kill him. Those walls between the cabins are sealed tight in case he was shot in the air.”

  “Zak would have known that?”

  “Yeah, probably. He’s known Jabir for as long as I have.”

  Ivy rubbed the side of her head. “What’s our next move? What should we do?”

  “Tell people who can do something about it. The CIA should be able to run up the ladder to someone who knows who this Nasar guy is and put a stop to things.” He placed his hand on her knee. “Don’t worry about it. All we need to do is take care of ourselves. This is almost over.”

  That sounded good to her. Yesterday she’d wondered if she had it in her to keep at it. Being Jabir’s plaything was awful. She didn’t understand how Nor was in love with him.

  Nor.

  London.

  The other women.

  How did this affect them? Were they okay? Or would they pay for her actions?

  Ivy hadn’t thought about that before, but she did now. The harem wasn’t just this abstract idea. She knew the women in it. Not all of them and not well, but it was harder to just walk away.

  “I’m sorry about last night. And yesterday,” Piers said.

  She blinked, replaying his words. “What for?”

  Piers’ mouth twisted into a distasteful grimace. “You had things under control and I barged in thinking you needed to be saved.”

  Ivy smiled. Oh, she’d been exasperated with him kissing her at the moment. Her head had been focused on the job and what she had to do. But in hindsight? She wished she’d have lived in that moment for a few seconds.

  “Thank you for coming to my rescue.” She put her hand over his and squeezed. “You were right. I wasn’t fully prepared for this. I don’t know how I would have done this without you.”

  Piers’ eyes were still hard, his lips still tightly compressed. “I didn’t like seeing Jabir touch you. I didn’t like...”

  She shivered. “You think I liked it?”

  “No. But you were doing your job. I...”

  Ivy didn’t know what he was trying to say. Whatever he was struggling with, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.

  One thing at a time.

  “It’s over. We just go home now, right?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded.

  Home sounded like a great idea. She needed some downtime and to sort out her next move. Getting fired had happened so suddenly then, this job. Her boss would no doubt have contracts lined up for her to take her pick. That was just how it was with the demand for female bodyguards. But maybe she’d take time off instead. Get her head clear.

  Maybe take a damn vacation.

  What were the chances she could convince the other girls to take some time off their jobs and actually meet up?

  Ivy wasn’t sure they’d all ever been in the same location together. Her best friends were people she interacted with through her phone. Which she no longer had.

  “Ever want to just get away from it all?” Piers asked, intruding on her thoughts.

  “All the time lately,” she chuckled and smiled at him, but Piers still had that funny, tense look on his face.

  What was going on with him? Was there something she should still be worried about?

  WEDNESDAY. NASAR’S Home. New York City, New York.

  Nasar sat on the coffee table and stared at the years’ worth of bread crumbs spread out on his floor. He’d arranged the pages documenting what he knew in chronological order, starting with everything he knew about the explosion that had killed his family.

  It had taken him a year, almost two, to uncover the tiniest bits of intel, and then it just kept coming.

  The men he’d met who shared his frustrations.

  The leak about accidental drone attacks.

  Cover-up rumors.

  Zak had told him they’d find the answers in America. That with the shift of the US military, the only way to discover more was to follow them. And Nasar had. Along the way, he did whatever job Zak asked him to do because it ultimately led to more information or a contact who could tell him more.

  It was Zak who’d arranged for Nasar to meet with the young man who’d told him about Daniel Smith.

  Everything came through Zak.

  Only Daniel Smith hadn’t killed Nasar’s family. The boogeyman he’d feared for ten years wasn’t a monster at all. Just a regular man with no ties to Nasar’s personal tragedy. But the evidence was all here, leading to Daniel Smith.

  What was right? Where had this gone wrong? And why wouldn’t Zak answer a damn text?

  WEDNESDAY. AL HOFUF, Saudi Arabia.

  Killam was ready to be free of Muhammad. The kid was the teenager Killam had never wanted.

  Did Ivy want kids?

  He shoved that random question down and focused on the road.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Too many things, that was for damn sure.

  Muhammad sat in the passenger seat and Ivy was in the back. She was sitting with her knees drawn up and the black fabric all around her. If it weren’t for the strip of pale skin around her eyes, she could have been anyone.

  Killam glanced at the street sign.

  He had no idea who would show up here. Since the CIA was constantly shifting people around, he rarely met with the same people twice. It didn’t much matter. He’d report the situation, hand over Muhammad, get his packet and go. Take Ivy somewhere safe and figure out what the hell he was going to say to her.

  It wasn’t logic
al to think he could have anything with her. A weekend or a week, maybe. But more than that? How?

  She had her life and he had his.

  He wasn’t ready to quit this work. Not yet. Jabby might be one of his least favorite projects, but he had other irons in the fire. Other cases he was working. He couldn’t just up and leave those. And neither could he ask Ivy to join him. This was a lifestyle. It ate up everything and left nothing for anyone else.

  The kindest thing would be to see her home safe then go on his way.

  She’d forget him and this whole episode in time. What was there to remember?

  The idea of shutting Ivy out of his life brought on a heaviness. He’d miss her. They barely knew each other and he’d fucking miss her.

  Killam turned the wheel onto a small side street.

  He’d been to Al Hofuf a few times. As he understood it, the city had begun as most did in this region, around an oasis. The primary industry was still agriculture. The dates were supposed to be the best in the country. And it was one of the leading places where women could study things like medicine.

  What were a couple of CIA agents doing here?

  He didn’t really want to know. Not with the problems they already had. Getting out of the country would be hard enough considering their limited resources. He traveled with enough cash on him they should be good, even if he had to pay for a new car outright.

  Killam slowed the van.

  “Don’t think about running,” he warmed Muhammed.

  The kid had been too relaxed. In his shoes, Killam would have planned on running right about now.

  At that moment, Muhammed threw the remnants of the bag of chips at Killam’s face. He slammed on the breaks and reached blindly. Ivy shouted something. Killam lunged, but Ivy already had one arm around Muhammed’s neck, securing him to the chair.

  “I am not in the mood for your shit, kid,” she said with a deadly calm.

  Muhammed spat a few curses.

  “I wouldn’t mess with her.” Killam gripped the wheel again. “Don’t let the headscarf fool you. She could probably kill you a dozen more ways than I could.”

  Whether that statement was true or not, Muhammed went very still.

  Killam refocused on the road.

  Had the CIA been watching? Would his contacts still be there? Could they have taken off?

  If the kid cost them this meet, Killam might off him.

  A dark-haired figure leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of a nondescript building. He wasn’t looking at the van, but Killam recognized the way the guy held himself. It didn’t hurt that it was the address he’d been given.

  He pulled the van up next to the curb.

  “Stay there,” he said to Muhammed.

  If the kid was going to run, Killam was going to treat him like a real prisoner.

  He got out and circled the van.

  The man in the door was gone, but that was fine.

  Killam opened the passenger door, grabbed the kid by the back of the shirt and hauled him out. Ivy scrambled out the rear door.

  “Come on.” He pushed Muhammed forward and their trio made the short walk to the door.

  The kid opened the door, going in first with Ivy bringing up the rear.

  They entered a small foyer with two dusty chairs that looked as though they hadn’t been used in a year or two. No one manned the front desk and a door was open leading farther into the building.

  “Let’s go.” Killam pushed the kid forward.

  The next room was only partially lit.

  Two men stood just behind a single lamp lighting the room. It was impossible to see their faces.

  Killam stopped just in the doors.

  This was right. And yet it didn’t feel right.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Piers Killam?” the man who’d been in the doorway asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where’s Ivy Ashley?”

  “She stayed in the van,” Killam lied.

  He saw Ivy freeze. The only thing blocking her from sight was the door.

  “Bring her in here,” the man said.

  “I can’t do that. No head covering.” Killam didn’t know what was wrong, but he wasn’t going to question his gut. Not now.

  Ivy took a slow step back.

  “Who is he?” the other man asked.

  “The source? My contact that wants to make a deal?”

  “Hey.” Muhammed twisted, frowning back at Killam.

  Shut up, kid.

  The second man moved fast. He lifted his arm and fired.

  Killam jerked Muhammed back then dove, clearing the door himself as a bullet ripped through the wall behind where he’d been.

  “Go!” Killam roared.

  Sneakers squealed on tile and Muhammed screamed.

  Ivy threw open the shop door and burse onto the sidewalk.

  Killam was hot on her heels. He pushed her forward and dove for the driver’s side. He spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Muhammed running down the street, and two men emerging from the building. Killam ducked his head as one lifted his gun and fired.

  Ivy screamed and his heart pulsed in his throat.

  Not her.

  He threw himself into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.

  Behind him, Ivy huddled on the floor of the van.

  “What just happened? What just happened?” she asked in a voice with an ever increasing pitch.

  “Hold on,” Killam yelled and slammed on the accelerator.

  The van lurched forward.

  It was hard to see out of a window with spider web cracks all through it.

  The last thing he saw of the two men in his mirror was the two men jumping into a car.

  This wasn’t good.

  The van wasn’t easy to maneuver. It also stuck out.

  “Ivy? Ivy, I need you to get the bag and be ready to run, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, the panic suddenly gone.

  Killam pushed the van as fast as he dared, taking every turn they came to.

  He needed a shopping area. Somewhere they could get lost in the crowd.

  There.

  He pulled the van up to the curb. If he had to guess, it was illegally parking.

  “Come on, let’s go,” he said.

  Ivy was out the back before he reached the sidewalk. He took the heavy black bag from her, then her hand and pulled her at almost a jog toward the open-air market.

  “I really don’t understand what just happened,” Ivy said.

  “Me neither. We might have been burned. Someone could be tying up loose ends. It doesn’t matter.”

  “What are we going to do?” A tiny bit of the fear tinged her voice.

  “We’re going to lose the men following us, buy a car and figure out a way to smuggle ourselves across the border.”

  They’d also have to figure out a way out of Qatar, but he’d cross that bridge when they got there. He had money and money made the world go round in many circles. It was what came later that worried him. But that was for later. Right now they had to survive the next two hours.

  WEDNESDAY. JABIR AL Saud’s Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

  Zak hung up with his computer guy in New York City.

  What the hell had the kid been thinking to use a real man’s name and file to give Nasar?

  This was a situation quickly spinning out of control. Zak just needed things to remain manageable for a little while longer. Then he could eliminate Nasar. The man had more than served his purpose and at this point was causing more problems than he was worth.

  Miran slid through the cracked doors, then glanced over his shoulder.

  Zak frowned. “What?”

  Miran kept his voice low and sat on the sofa adjacent to Zak. “Jabir’s awake.”

  “Okay, so? Is he pissed Yousef sent everyone away?”

  “Not sure,” Miran whispered.

  “I don’t care.” Jabir’s voice echoed off the marble.

  Zak sat
up a bit straighter.

  There hadn’t been any explanation given for last night. One moment the party was hopping, the next it was darkness. The power had come back on, but it took longer than anyone expected. And when it had, Yousef instructed the house staff to cut people off, send them home or encourage them to go to their rooms.

  Neither Zak nor Miran had any idea what was going on.

  Was all of this really over a woman?

  Could Killam be this stupid?

  The office door banged open. Jabir entered with a small entourage of staff following in his wake. Yousef was there, as was the head of security and housekeeping. A harried looking man brought a try of breakfast in and placed it on the desk before being shooed away.

  “Find them. Now. I want them found.” Jabir pounded the corner of the desk with his fist.

  Zak glanced at Miran.

  Them?

  So the runaway rumors were true.

  Yousef muttered a word to the head of security. The man bent his head and was gone.

  Jabir turned to the head of housekeeping. “What? What? What do you need?”

  “Prince Jabir?” Yousef pulled out the chair at the desk and gestured to it. “Your guests have a lot of questions and many want to wish you well.”

  “I’m fine,” Jabir snarled. “I want them all gone and those two found. Understand me?”

  Yousef gestured and the last of the staff retreated from the room with haste.

  Jabir frowned at the plate, then picked up the fork and stabbed a bite. While chewing his gaze landed on Zak.

  “Did you see them?” Jabir asked.

  “I’m sorry, who?” Zak asked.

  Yousef glared, but Zak ignored him.

  “Killam. Did you see Killam and my girl?” Jabir slammed his fist on the table.

  “No. No, did something happen?” Zak leaned forward.

  This was too perfect.

  Jabir’s scowl was downright petulant. “He ran off with her. He took her from me.”

  Zak widened his eyes and let his jaw drop.

  Jabir had probably never heard, or paid attention, to a woman telling him no. He took what he wanted when he wanted it. Which made his shock and outrage understandable, if laughable.

  “Killam did this? Your friend Killam? Your good friend?” Zak asked.

  Jabir tossed his fork down.

  Yousef’s scowl darkened.