Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

  “Me too,” Bryn said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any girl talk.”

  Luke checked his watch. “Think you could feed her while the boys and I go out for some recon?”

  Within ten minutes, Sam had assembled an amazing array of treats in a private office. “You do eat junk food, don’t you?”

  “Damn right I do.” Bryn accepted the plate of salad loaded with fresh fruit, eying the donuts for later.

  “I heard Lieutenant McCabe and his team came in for you and your father.”

  “Yes, thank God. It was surreal.”

  “I can imagine.” Sam forked up a bite of strawberry. “I bet you were surprised to be asked to join Luke’s team.”

  “Yeah. But my father would have done it for me.” And she would not let him down.

  “I think you’re very brave.”

  Bryn pushed a spinach leaf around her plate. “I don’t know if brave’s the right adjective. Pigheaded, maybe. But what about you? You’re a contractor working for the CIA in Baghdad. Who’s the brave one?”

  “Nah. I’m just a techie, not an operator. I wouldn’t last ten minutes out in the field.” She looked up, met Bryn’s gaze. “I hear you were amazing out there.”

  “Who’d you hear that from?”

  “Luke, who heard it from McCabe.” She cocked her head. “You seem surprised.”

  Bryn cleared her throat and unwrapped her Snickers bar. “It’s hard to tell what Dec’s thinking.” A flush crept up her cheeks. “About me and all of…this.”

  Sam’s smile was understanding. “You really like him, huh.”

  A deep sigh escaped her.

  “It’s okay, you know. It’s not like you’ve broken some social taboo or anything. And who could blame you? I mean, look at the guy.” She set down her fork and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “When Luke briefed us, I asked him how he got the lieutenant to sign up. Apparently he only agreed to come on the op to take care of you.”

  What? Bryn set her unwrapped chocolate bar down. “Luke said that?”

  Sam frowned. “I thought you knew.”

  “No. Oh God, I didn’t.” The wave of guilt went straight to her heart and lodged there, throbbing. Why would he do that? He didn’t owe her anything.

  Sam touched her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, I just…I don’t want him to put himself in danger for my sake.” Dammit, she’d begged him not to take risks for her, and it turns out she was the reason he’d come along in the first place?

  Sam set her hands on the table, palms down, and stood. “Come on. We’re getting out of here. Let’s go back to my place for a glass of wine without the risk of contamination from the testosterone floating around this place. And the curious ears.”

  She tugged Bryn to her feet like they were long-lost friends. Being around Sam felt as comforting as sliding on a pair of cozy slippers. “Let’s bounce. You can tell me all about Rhys’s sexy brother on the way.”

  She was beginning to think Sam was a godsend. For a while she might even be able to forget she was in Baghdad to lure Farouk Tehrazzi out of hiding and that Dec was risking his life for her.

  ****

  Funny how he’d forgotten what the stares felt like. Dec had already done three tours in Iraq, spent most of one in and around Baghdad, but driving through the streets in the front of a Humvee with his teammates, the weight of those hostile stares hit him with an unease that made the back of his neck prickle. Hands tightening on his automatic weapon, he catalogued the houses in the upper-scale neighborhood, the resentment and suspicion on the faces they passed.

  Not that he blamed them. Since Saddam had been overthrown, their country had been plunged into chaos. Every murder and suicide bombing created more hatred, more young men willing to kill and be killed. Like the two men they were after now.

  Through Fahdi, Luke had used them to penetrate one of the enemy militias. In the past twelve hours, something big had started brewing. The team had to bring them in and find out what they knew about Tehrazzi’s whereabouts and plans. Depending on intel, the op would go down tonight or tomorrow night.

  “That’s the place up there,” Luke said as he drove. “Third one on the right with the iron gate and the high wall.”

  Dec scanned the house for ways to get in and out. “How many people living here?”

  “Six,” said Ali from the back seat. “The father’s an invalid, stays on the first floor. His wife sleeps upstairs, as do their four sons.”

  “Who are our guys?” Rhys asked.

  “The eldest two. Eighteen and twenty-one. The younger ones are fifteen and eleven.”

  Great. So when they charged in during the middle of the night to grab their suspects, they would have to deal with a hysterical woman, an invalid and two freaked-out kids.

  Again, Dec wondered about Fahdi. He was on the CIA’s payroll, and Luke had taken him on as an informant a couple months ago. Luke knew his stuff, so Dec wasn’t particularly worried about being set up by the Iraqi. Somewhere in the midst of all this, Luke would have someone watching Fahdi to make sure he stayed on track. Davis, maybe. But money was a powerful motivator. So was fear.

  Dec figured his loyalty could go either way under the right circumstances, and Fahdi didn’t owe them anything. They weren’t his countrymen, or Shi’a—or even brothers in Islam. Maybe the money was simply too good to pass up?

  An explosion rocked their vehicle.

  “Jesus and Allah,” Fahdi gasped, grabbing his chest as Luke slammed on the brakes.

  Dec gripped the dash with one hand as his head snapped forward. In front of them, about half a klick down the road, a plume of smoke rose into the air. Heart pumping like a jackhammer, he craned his neck out the window. Swore. “Looks like a suicide bomber just detonated in the outdoor market.”

  “Jesus,” Ben muttered.

  People ran, waving their arms, screaming. The traffic ground to a standstill.

  Fahdi leaned forward so his head came between the front seats. “Any…casualties?” he asked in a near whisper, eyes glued to the carnage.

  Dec shot him a questioning look. The Iraqi had gone pale. Surely he’d seen this before?

  Fahdi swallowed. “My wife… She was going to the market…with my daughter and the baby.”

  Dec exchanged a glance with Luke. Shit. No wonder Fahdi’s face was pasty with fear. “We’d better go help.”

  Luke sighed. “Roger that.” His phone rang. “Yeah,” he answered, listened for a minute. Then his eyes shot up to stare out the windshield. “Okay, don’t move. We’ll come to you.” He disconnected. “Davis is pinned under some debris.”

  “How bad?”

  “Bad enough he can’t get out himself.” He shoved a pistol into his waistband. “Ali, go get Bryn at Sam’s and take her back to the barracks while we take care of this.”

  “Why,” Dec asked, alarm prickling over him. “Davis find something about Tehrazzi?” Because if Bryn was in danger, he wanted her to have more protection than Ali could give her.

  “‘S all good,” Luke said, opening his door. “Let’s move.”

  Rhys grabbed their first aid kit and they piled out of the truck. Fahdi was on his cell phone, trying to reach his wife.

  Dec waded through the crowd, mouth tight at the burning wreckage of the car that had detonated the explosives, creating as many pieces of shrapnel as possible. A crude but effective method to inflict the most harm and terrorize the civilian population. But then, there were a lot of ways to die in Baghdad.

  When they finally returned to their barracks, Ali met them at the door. “She’s inside,” he said. Dec found Bryn reading on her bunk. She sat up as they filed in, and her welcoming smile warmed him.

  Then she noticed the bloodstains on his BDUs. He’d tried to clean most of it off before coming inside, but the way her smile disappeared told him he was still a mess. Tough to keep clean moving dead and mutilated bodies, though.

  Her eyes were worried. “Are you a
ll right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  Dec avoided her gaze. “Suicide bomber.”

  “Was that the bang I heard an hour ago?”

  “Yeah. Davis got cut up a bit, but he’s okay.” His back was going to hurt like a bitch for a while, though. The beam they’d pried off him had left one hell of a mark. “We dug him and some of the other wounded out.”

  “That’s why you’ve got blood all over you.” She wrapped her arms around her waist.

  He wanted to hug her, but didn’t dare. Yeah, Bryn. Baghdad’s not a nice place. People get blown up here every day. And I hate that you’re sitting here in the middle of it. There was nothing he could say to make her feel any safer at the moment. He felt bad about that.

  At least Fahdi’s wife and two small children were safe. They’d been at home when the bombing happened. Other women and children hadn’t been so fortunate.

  He didn’t want to think about that anymore. “Sam take good care of you?”

  Bryn seemed to understand why he’d changed the subject. “Sam took amazing care of me.” She glanced at Luke. “She’s awesome.”

  “Yeah,” Luke responded, tossing his armored vest onto his bunk. “She’s a sweetheart. We’re lucky to have her, too. Her boss back in Langley didn’t want to let her go.”

  Bryn brushed at her pants. “So besides the…incident, how did it go out there?” She faltered when no one answered right away. “I’m not supposed to ask?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Dec said, removing his body armor. They were all on a need to know basis, except Luke. He was the only one who knew all the details of what was going on during this op. Yet even he didn’t know everything in the big picture. That was the luxury of a Deputy Director back at CIA headquarters in Virginia. “We were just doing some recon, getting the lay of the land so far as Tehrazzi’s connections in Baghdad go.”

  “Well. You’re all back safe, so that’s all I care about.”

  She amazed him. Even after what had happened last night in Damascus, she was still handling everything well. He’d never met a stronger woman. He just hoped she had the stamina to keep it up until the job was done.

  The others headed back to the TOC while Dec grabbed a quick shower and then hit the computers to find out if they had any new intel. He’d volunteered to stay behind and watch Bryn because he didn’t want Ali to do it. The control freak in him was on board with the possessive male programmed to protect her himself.

  After passing on a couple of tidbits to Luke, he went back into the room to check on Bryn to see if she needed anything. It probably wasn’t the best idea that they were alone together after last night in her hotel room, but he had enough sense to maintain distance from her.

  He appreciated that she hadn’t pressed him about what had happened. Most other women would have at least tried to pry an explanation out of him, yet she had handled herself with remarkable maturity—something he probably shouldn’t have been surprised about, although she had to be confused about the mixed messages he’d been sending her. Shit, he was confused enough for both of them.

  If he’d been working this case as a civilian, his conscience wouldn’t have been so torn up. But he was an active-duty SEAL, and he couldn’t let his feelings for Bryn get in the way. So far he’d allowed his attraction to her to compromise him to the point that he’d not only kissed her, but would have loved to get her naked in that hotel bed.

  Bryn knew it. Hell, she wanted it, which made it harder for him to do the right thing and maintain the boundary—blurred as it was—between them.

  He found her sound asleep on her bunk, the paperback dangling from her hand. Stopping in the doorway, he let his eyes sweep over her face and the pool of dark hair spreading across her pillow. Sleep was the best thing for her right now. He had no idea how she’d coped with all that had happened without having a breakdown. She was a total sweetheart, and he would never have guessed someone so feminine and gentle could be so incredibly tough.

  She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman and more, and that made it so much harder to keep his growing feelings to himself. When this whole thing finished, he could see himself getting serious with her. She was so alone now, and he wanted to make her feel secure. He had a big, close-knit family back home. They’d take her in and love her to pieces.

  Bryn stirred in her sleep. Her brows twitched, her expression seeming troubled.

  He had a feeling she wasn’t having a nice dream.

  Her hand jerked on the paperback. Her breathing quickened. Then her eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp, scanning the room fearfully. When she saw him, she relaxed, but drew in an unsteady breath and swabbed at her face. A sheen of perspiration dampened her skin.

  Ah, baby. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She dropped her gaze, wiped at the sweat on her upper lip.

  He crossed the room and hunkered down in front of her. “Nightmare?”

  She nodded and bent to retrieve her book without looking at him, rattled, but trying not to let it show.

  He knew about waking up with his heart slamming against his ribs because of a flashback. When she shoved her fingers against her eyes with a tired sigh, he couldn’t stop himself from passing a hand over her hair. “Lie back down.”

  She hesitated a moment, then did as he said, watching him.

  “What was it about?”

  She lowered her eyes. “It was…when Masood was shot. I was sitting in his lap.” Her fingers pulled at the edge of her blanket. “I heard the gun go off, felt the bullet hit…and the blood spattering. I wasn’t sure if I…”

  Ah, hell. “If you’d been hit.”

  “Yes.” A shiver rippled over her. Then another. And another, until she was shaking.

  Dec couldn’t stand to see her hurting. He wanted to hold her, make her feel safe, but he’d confused her enough already, so he shouldn’t touch her. But damn, she looked so fragile and alone. The least he could do was offer her comfort in a platonic way.

  “Scoot over,” he said, ignoring the flare of surprise in her dark eyes as he stretched out beside her and laid a hand on her back. She immediately tucked in close and rested her cheek over his heart. He clenched his jaw. He wanted to wrap around her so badly, but couldn’t let himself. “Better?”

  “Yes.” She sighed, the heat of her breath penetrating his shirt.

  He held himself back, managed not to slide his arms around her. To soothe her, he ran his fingers through her long hair. The dream was probably still vivid in her mind. He decided to give her a different image to focus on. “Close your eyes and pretend with me,” he whispered.

  Her lids dropped. “Pretend what?”

  “That you’re in the loft of a log house in the foothills of the Rocky mountains.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up. “In Montana?”

  He grinned. “Maybe. I’m there to guard you. You’re warm and safe, no one else around for miles. It’s dark, and there’s a storm outside, so you can hear the wind against the windows and the rain pounding on the roof.” He toyed with the ends of her hair. “There’s a fire burning in the fireplace beside the bed, tucked under the eaves.” Over the past week he’d imagined making love to her there more times than he could count. “Can you see it?”

  “Mmm, yes.”

  “Imagine you’re cuddled up in the bed under a down quilt, listening to the rain and the crackle of the fire. You’re exhausted from hiking all day through the forest and swimming in the lake. Your eyelids are heavy, your muscles are tired. All sleepy and warm.” He waited a breath, tortured by the heat of her body. “You there?”

  “So there.”

  “Good. Stay there and just breathe. Listen to the storm outside and know you’re safe, wrapped up in that bed. Relax your muscles, let your mind go blank. Feel the warmth of the fire on your face.”

  He slammed his imagination shut as it put him naked in that bed with her and focused on slowing his own breathing. He kep
t his touch on her hair gentle, lulling her back to sleep as the minutes drifted past. Her breaths deepened. Her muscles relaxed. He could almost hear the rain on the roof.

  When he was sure she was sleeping, he eased himself away from her and climbed off the bed. Before he could change his mind and crawl back in with her, he made himself leave the room.

  ****

  Baghdad

  Evening

  Tehrazzi watched the live feed coming from the informant’s house from a camera hidden in the front entrance ceiling. Preparing to leave for their interview, Fahdi tugged on his shoes and then stood to hug his wife. “Don’t worry,” he told her with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be very careful.”

  Wise of him under the circumstances, Tehrazzi thought.

  The woman wrapped her arms around her waist. “The Americans will protect us?”

  Oh, yes, they would certainly try. If they knew about the forthcoming meeting, which they did not. Tehrazzi had made sure of that.

  “They will. I’ll be back late. See you in the morning.” He walked out into the dusty street, and Tehrazzi lost the video, but maintained audio with the electronic bug secretly implanted in Fahdi’s watch. The GPS chip beacon blinked on the screen in front of Tehrazzi as Fahdi turned west and headed toward the setting sun.

  Tehrazzi imagined the tickle of the breeze on his skin and the aroma of cooking meat wafting through the air. He’d walked the same route many times at this time of day.

  The sounds of the traffic thinned out as Fahdi advanced deeper into the city. After crossing the river and winding his way through the tangle of streets and alleys, he turned again, heading away from the water toward their appointed meeting place in the crowded Shi’a neighborhoods, where more security cameras picked him up.

  As the informant neared his destination, Tehrazzi’s blood hummed with anticipation. Were Fahdi’s palms damp? Did his heart beat faster with each approaching step? He had to feel the eyes on him as he moved, and suspect some unseen presence was following him. As if hearing his thoughts, Fahdi touched the pendant hanging from his neck and muttered a prayer.