Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

  Chapter Nine

  Day 7, Beirut

  Noon

  Dec stared hard across the hotel dining room table at Luke Hutchinson and folded his arms across his chest. “No.”

  “That’s it? Just no?”

  “All right. How about no way in hell?”

  The corner of Luke’s mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. “I need her, whether you’re in or not.”

  Dec scowled. “Hell.”

  Signing up for a covert op with the CIA was one thing—it was another to involve a civilian, and a female at that. “You guys must be desperate to even dream this shit up.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you must have pulled some pretty big strings to get me assigned for this.”

  Luke’s shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. “I know some people.”

  Yeah, he sure as hell did. Wouldn’t surprise Dec if the guy played golf with the Deputy Director of the CIA and the head brass at SOCOM. The legendary Luke Hutchinson evidently pulled strings like a marionette master.

  Dec sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Bryn is still recovering from her injuries. And her father’s funeral. She’s not up to this, even if she did have the training.”

  “Don’t underestimate her.”

  “Oh, trust me, I’m not.” Dec took a sip of his beer, sizing the guy up. How can you tell if someone has served time in special ops? Watch how they position themselves in a room.

  He and Luke had both instinctively headed for the table at the rear corner, and were now sitting with their backs to the wall to maintain clear lines of visibility, even though they were in a relatively safe environment. Their kind of training never went away.

  Bryn did not belong in that world. “I was in the field with her for two days, remember? She’s no quitter, I’ll give her that, and she’s got guts. But this is way beyond her capabilities.”

  Luke gave an easy shrug, leaned his chair against the wall. “I don’t think it is. And that’s for her to decide anyway.”

  “The hell it is.” Dec pinned him with a stern glare. “I’ve worked with female operatives before, but never in the field during a military op. And Bryn McAllister is not an operative.”

  “She doesn’t need to be. Her black belt is a plus, and we’ll give her a crash course on the rest of what she needs.”

  Whatever the real reason Luke needed Bryn for this, Dec figured it had to be damn good. Not that Luke was going to tell him what it was. CIA officers worked with their contractors on a need-to-know basis, and Luke obviously didn’t think he needed to know. “So why me?”

  “Because she trusts you. You were the one who rescued her, guarded her until the extraction took place, held her hand when she was wounded and made the effort to go see her in the hospital afterwards. You even came back to make sure she wasn’t alone when her father died. So that makes you her hero. She’s already psychologically attached to you.”

  Christ, Dec didn’t like this at all. If that was true, it sure as hell didn’t help that he’d kissed her and told her he would look her up when he got home. Luke probably didn’t know about that part, but Dec was already way too attached to her.

  So how the hell could he take this assignment? His objectivity was shot to shit when it came to Bryn McAllister. With her as the team’s principal, they all had to maintain professional distance from her emotionally, or people would make bad judgment calls and start getting killed.

  As he mulled over that happy thought, Luke regarded him with those miss-nothing eyes. “If you’re worried about your objectivity, don’t be.”

  Dec couldn’t help the flush creeping up his neck.

  “I don’t require the same rigid SOP you’re used to on this mission. That being said, I expect you to be a professional.”

  Meaning even though he suspected Dec had some level of feelings for Bryn, so long as he kept them to himself and did his job, he was welcome on Luke’s team. Dec didn’t find it all that reassuring.

  “That’s the other reason I wanted you, Lieutenant. I know she’s going to be more than just another principal to you. The way I see it, that will only make you more motivated to do your job.” He leaned his well-muscled weight into his chair, linked his hands behind his head.

  His posture made him seem deceptively relaxed, though Dec knew better. Any hint of danger, and he’d be off that chair quicker than a coiled rattlesnake.

  “You’re a SEAL. I trust your capabilities and your discipline. Your service record glowed so much it damn near hurt my eyes. And we’ve both got personal reasons for wanting Bryn safe, so really, I’m as compromised as you are. She’ll trust me, but you’ll make it that much easier.”

  What personal reasons did Luke have? “How do you know she’ll trust you?”

  “She’s a friend of the family. She knows me.”

  No she didn’t. Dec bet less than a handful of people really did. The guy looked as cool as ice. And how could they even be discussing this?

  The idea of putting Bryn in harm’s way after all she’d been through was wrong. Asking her to hunt down a dangerous, high-profile link in the Islamic extremist terror network made his protective instincts come blazing to the surface. “And what makes you so damn sure she’ll listen to you, anyway?”

  Luke’s deep brown eyes met his, devoid of emotion. “I’m a pretty convincing guy.”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did the manipulative bastard have up his sleeve that would make Bryn even consider taking this on? He didn’t like the possibilities.

  “So are you in, or are you out?”

  Guy didn’t give an inch. Those eyes of his could win millions at a poker table. Unreadable eyes, the kind that belonged to someone who could kill without flinching, without remorse. Did his own eyes look like that? If they didn’t already, they would if he stayed in the game long enough.

  Not a comforting prospect, but he wasn’t going to sit back and abandon Bryn. “If she swallows your bullshit and says yes, then I’m in.”

  “Good. I’m making you my 2IC.”

  Dec preferred being in charge, but he could tolerate being second in command with a guy like Hutchinson. So long as he did everything in his power to keep Bryn safe.

  Dec followed him out of the lobby to the rental car and watched as Luke methodically checked for booby traps or explosives before getting in and starting the engine. They drove in silence to Daoud’s compound in the heart of the city.

  Beirut must have been beautiful once. Modern architecture nestled against ancient buildings under the hot sun. Palm trees dotted the streets lined with cafés and shops displaying an array of exotic items, signs written in a mixture of Arabic, French and English. A cultural jewel in the Middle East, once bustling with tourism and commerce.

  But now the signs of war were everywhere, from the collapsed buildings and bullet-riddled exteriors to the increasingly impoverished and disenchanted citizens.

  Bryn’s father had lived in luxury, sealed off from the decay and shells that had destroyed much of the city during the decades of civil war and the most recent clash between Hamas and Israel.

  Pulling up to the gated compound, Dec noted with approval how tight the security was. Luke showed some ID to the guard at the main gate, and the little Renault whined its way up the drive to the modern, gleaming, two-story, white stucco house. At the grand entrance, a butler led them inside.

  They found Bryn outside in the courtyard next to the sparkling turquoise pool. Wearing a black string bikini, she was smoothing sun block onto her limbs, careful of the angry purple scars on her arms. The stitches must have only just come out and the marks looked damn sore.

  All the blood seemed to flood out of Dec’s brain at the sight of her in that skimpy bathing suit, showing off the sleek lines of her back and hips. A radio next to her played American music and with her back to them, she didn’t hear them approach.

  “Miss Bryn,” the butler announced.

  She swung her head around, shading her e
yes with one hand. More healing scars covered her inner arm and upper chest, down her ribs on the right side. But that bikini. Damn he was glad he wore shades.

  “Some gentlemen here to see you.”

  Bryn stood up, flipping her straight dark hair off her shoulders so it spilled down her back. The breath backed up in his lungs and for a moment he let himself stare at her. Her body was lightly tanned, lean and beautifully toned, with long legs, high firm breasts and a flat stomach. A jewel glinted in her pierced navel.

  Well, that hadn’t been in her file, he thought as he struggled to drag his eyes up to her face.

  “Hello,” she called, squinting against the sun’s glare as she pulled a modest wrap over herself.

  Too bad, since he preferred her without it, but probably a good thing. She must not be able to see them, or she would have recognized him.

  He flicked a glance at Luke, who watched her silently. Obviously their visit was a surprise, which pissed him off even more. She’d just buried her father yesterday, and now they were here—or rather, Luke was here—to spring this on her. Tamping down his irritation, he stepped past Luke out of the shadows and into the sunlight.

  “Hey, Bryn.”

  Delight lit her features. “Dec! I can’t believe it! How are you?”

  She came right up to him with that same radiant smile and wrapped her slender arms around his neck to hug him. The suppleness of her firm body pressing against him was sweet torture. The scent of her coconut sun block and sun-warmed hair rose around him, stirring him up.

  Distance, he reminded himself, but he returned the brief embrace gently, unable to keep from smiling down at her when she pulled back to look at him.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried. I tried to find out where you were, but no one would tell me anything.”

  After all she’d gone through, she’d been worrying about him? She was so sweet. “I’m fine,” he assured her. “How are you holding up?”

  The light in her eyes dimmed a little. “Good. Big turnout at the funeral, and I heard lots of interesting stories from some of his acquaintances. He was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was,” Luke said from behind him.

  Bryn peered around his shoulder as the older man came into view, surprise on her face.

  Instinctively he stepped closer to her, noting how still she’d gone as she stared at Luke.

  “Luke, hi.”

  Satisfied she wasn’t afraid, Dec backed up a step or two to give her some breathing room. Luke flicked him an amused glance, telling Dec his protective gesture had not gone unnoticed.

  A furrow creased her brow. “Is something wrong? I mean, I assume you didn’t come by just to say hello. Did you?”

  “Got something I wanted to talk to you about,” Luke said evasively. “Can we sit down somewhere?”

  “Sure, at the table over there.” She gestured to the teak furniture under a pergola dripping with grapevines.

  She knew something was up, Dec would bet on it from her rigid posture. He could practically hear her brain humming as it puzzled out what was going on here.

  Dec chose a seat opposite her and met her worried glance with a smile, taking off his shades. “You look pretty good for someone who got hit with an RPG not much more than a week ago.”

  The quirk of her lips was nervous, a little forced. “Thanks. My stitches just came out this morning.”

  “They sore?” Of course they’re sore, dumbass. Look at them, for crying out loud.

  She lifted her shoulders. “A little. I’ve healed up pretty well, though.”

  “I’m glad.” He glanced over at Luke, who seemed in no particular hurry to end the awkward conversation.

  Bryn looked at him, too. “Ben talked to me about everything last night. Is something more going on?”

  “Nothing more on that front.”

  “What front?” Dec asked.

  “Tehrazzi putting a reward out for her capture.”

  Dec’s jaw tightened and he glanced at Bryn, expecting to find fear in her eyes, but saw only acceptance. In that instant, any doubts he’d had about coming on board vanished. She needed someone to watch her back. He had the time, and the means. He wasn’t budging.

  Arms folded across his chest, he waited for Luke to get down to business.

  Bryn faced him suddenly, the intensity in her dark eyes slicing through him. Then her gaze whipped back to Luke. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Need a favor.”

  What a bunch of bullshit. Dec barely withheld the comment. He knew exactly how this was going to play out. Luke was going to use the guilt thing, telling Bryn she had a chance to get the guy responsible for her dad’s death and her suffering.

  I’m an old family friend, you know you can trust me. And Dec and I put our asses on the line to get you out of harm’s way. So you owe it to yourself, your father, us and your country to take this job.

  There was a lot about how CIA operatives worked that Dec didn’t know, but this was a real eye-opener. And it seriously pissed him off.

  “Oh,” Bryn was saying. “What kind of favor?”

  Good. At least she sounded wary.

  “An important one,” said Luke.

  Oh, Christ, here we go.

  Luke set a photo on the table in front of her. “Do you recognize him?”

  She studied it with a thoughtful frown, then shook her head. “No. Should I?”

  “Farouk Tehrazzi.”

  Her eyes snapped back to the picture. “He’s the one who planned the bombing and kidnapped us?”

  Dec understood her surprise. Tehrazzi didn’t look like your average Islamic terrorist. Nothing about him looked remotely Middle Eastern, except maybe his full beard, but that was light brown. With his fair skin and moss-green eyes, he looked more like a Maine fisherman or lumberjack than an Islamic militant.

  That was the thing about the war against these extremists—people back in suburban USA could be living right next to a sleeper cell member, and have no clue they were greeting a would-be suicide bomber when they waved over the fence at their neighbor while cutting the lawn. The stereotype of a terrorist being a Middle Eastern-looking man with a crazy gleam in his eye couldn’t be further from the truth. Many were college educated—lawyers, doctors, PhDs. You just never knew who you had to watch for.

  Luke pushed harder. “You sure he doesn’t look familiar?”

  “I’m sure. Why?”

  Luke dropped another photo on top of it. “Because he went to Harvard the same time you did.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “He did? I don’t recognize him, but it’s a big school.”

  “He’s a couple years older than you. Graduated the year after you did with a master’s degree in political science.”

  Her expression tightened. “So are you saying he knew about me back then? That he’s been trying to get to me this whole time?”

  Luke regarded her solemnly. “Tehrazzi was born and raised in Lebanon, and when he was in his teens he caught the eye of a wealthy Syrian businessman named Masood. Masood took him under his wing and sent him to the States to earn a degree. During his studies, Tehrazzi continued to be involved with the Hezbollah movement that was gaining strength in Lebanon. Yeah, he knew who you were, but your father was the real prize he was after. He hated that your father advocated for a relationship between his government and the U.S. It was dumb luck for him that you were here for the political summit when he executed the plot.” He shifted forward and gazed at her in earnest. “As to why I’m here today… I need your help to bring him in.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Me? What could I do?”

  Luke didn’t look the least bit guilty—and he should have—as he laid on the burden of responsibility. “You’ve escaped him. That means he’s going to want you real bad.”

  Dec watched her absorb the whole thing silently, but didn’t have a clue as to what was going on in her head. He kept waiting for her to laugh in Luke’s face. He wanted her to say no. He telepathicall
y begged her to outright refuse, tell Luke he was crazy.

  “But I’m not qualified. I don’t have the training,” she protested in confusion.

  Dec silently applauded her. Yeah, that was one of the major strikes against her and this whole gig.

  “Surely you can find someone better suited to—”

  “I’ve already told you, Bryn,” Luke interrupted. “He will be coming after you again. It’s only a matter of time. He’s already put a bounty on your head.”

  She paled at the reminder and took a moment to collect herself. “So you’re saying what? That you’ll protect me if I’ll help you?”

  “You’re going to need protection either way, but if you come on board with me I can help provide that. Tehrazzi is well trained and elusive as hell. Bottom line? I can make him go away that much faster if I have you.”

  Her expression oozed incredulity. “And what makes you so sure you can guarantee something like that?”

  Dec arched a wry brow at Luke. He’d like to hear this too.

  The former SEAL ignored him. “Because your presence will give Tehrazzi…incentive to come out of hiding.”

  Bryn didn’t miss a beat. “You think he’ll resurface if you use me as bait.”

  Dec searched her face for any flicker of expression, but none came. So far he was impressed by her backbone, but a bit alarmed that she’d listened to this much without blowing the whole thing off. Did she realize how dangerous it would be?

  He didn’t want her within a hundred miles of a terrorist, let alone trying to lure the kingpin straight to her. That’s the only reason he’d agreed to take this job. If she was going to do this, then he was going to be there to keep her safe.

  Luke gave a wry smile. “You speak some Arabic, you look like a native and you have a strong motivation to want this guy taken out of the picture. You don’t need a lot of training to do this. All I need is for you to get his attention so we can draw him out of hiding, and we’ll take care of the rest.”‘

  “But because I represent a personal failure for him, your chances of bagging him are much greater if you dangle me in front of him.”