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Dangerously Hot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#4) Page 18


  She gaped at him, her brain whirling. “He can’t possibly run his network while living a normal life, can he? Can he really go to school events and be so… normal?”

  Even as she said it, she knew it had to be true. It was the secret of his success, the reason why he’d gone undetected for so long. Al Ahmad was only a code name. Behind that name was a man who must be connected in order to achieve the things he’d achieved. He’d escaped death and gone underground. He’d only been discovered when his lieutenant had outed him—and that had taken nearly two years to do. Jassar ibn Rashad had been afraid—and then he suddenly hadn’t. Though perhaps he should have been, considering he hadn’t been heard from again. They could all guess what the outcome of that betrayal had been.

  Or maybe he’d just been stupid instead of brave. Whatever the case, he’d let the truth slip, and now almost every government in the world had an interest in finding Al Ahmad and putting a stop to his machinations. But Al Ahmad had to know that, so would he really go to public events where he might be identified?

  Kev seemed to know what she was thinking. “If he thought we knew about his daughter, she wouldn’t be in the school anymore. There’ve been no new enrollments or withdrawals in a year. She’s there, which means he will most likely be there. It’s something we have to consider.”

  She couldn’t breathe for a moment. She thought back over all those faces, which had ranged in age from six to sixteen, and wished she could pick out his features in his child’s.

  “If he’s living a normal life, and his child goes to that school, then he’s wealthy and connected. So he might not be in town for this. That’s certainly a legitimate excuse if he has a business, right? He could be anywhere for all we know.”

  Kev arched an eyebrow. “He could be. But what if he’s not? What if he wants to go to this event? It’s the king, Lucky. The fricking King of Qu’rim.”

  Her blood ran cold as she considered the implications. The King of Qu’rim and Al Ahmad in the same room. For all they knew, it had happened before. If he was a businessman of some description, it probably had. But now that the violence was escalating, could he be planning something against the king?

  “When is it?” Her throat was tight.

  Kev grinned. “Three days from now.”

  ***

  Abdul Halim was growing impatient. When he gave an order, he expected results. His contact at the hotel said there was some confusion about recent guests. Several had checked out after the bombings, and several new people had checked in. The hotel was swarming with media, and while there weren’t a lot of women, there were a few. His contact wasn’t quite certain how many because the bombing had upset the city and some of the staff were refusing to get on buses or take taxis to come to work.

  Abdul Halim’s phone rang and he snatched it up. Farouk was on the other end. “We have a report of some Americans leaving the hotel last night, but they didn’t go to the airport.”

  “And where did they go?”

  “We don’t know. Two of our men were following them, but the Americans slipped past the perimeter and we were unable to pick up their trail again.”

  Abdul Halim’s gut churned. “Incompetence, Farouk. I will not tolerate it. There is too much at stake.”

  “What does it matter?” Farouk blew out a breath. “We will have the king himself in just a few days, so why worry about disappearing Americans? When the king is ours, we will control Qu’rim. We’ll shut the borders and hunt down all the foreigners.”

  Abdul Halim ground his teeth. “Because it is an anomaly. And because I saw the woman on camera.”

  “You saw a woman who might be Lucky Reid. And what can she do, brother? Even if she’s here with an army of Americans, they do not know where to find us. With the city in chaos, they’ll have their hands full.”

  Abdul Halim stared at the golden domes of the palace in the distance. They were so close to achieving their goals now. The king’s appearance at the school was a last-minute addition to his schedule, and it had the Freedom Force scrambling. They would not miss this opportunity, though capturing the king had never been on their agenda before now.

  But the fighting in the desert was taking too long even though the forces guarding the mine were stretched thin. Yet they had not given up. With the king under the Freedom Force’s control, the king’s military would have to stand down. Taking the mine would be so simple.

  And after they had the mine, their men at the Ministry of Science would open the doors and give them access to the enrichment program and the secret warheads the government had been building. Oh, yes, he knew about those, even if the IAEA did not.

  Abdul Halim rubbed his temples. It was a delicate operation. He had access to the king in his real life, but forcing a kidnapping that way would reveal his identity. At an event where he was also scheduled to appear? Where he could orchestrate everything and yet not implicate himself in any way?

  It was too good to pass up.

  “Nothing can interfere with our plans, Farouk. This is the culmination of all we have worked for.”

  He punched the button to end the call and stood there for several more minutes, anger churning in his gut. A high-pitched giggle came from the direction of the apartment entrance, and he knew that his wife had picked up Lana from school. He walked out of his office and into the hallway.

  Lana came running. “Guess what, Daddy!”

  “What?” he asked, picking her up.

  “I got perfect marks in math. And then Aija pulled my hair and Jada threw up her lunch. And we got a new English teacher. She’s American.”

  Abdul Halim stilled. A new teacher? Now? Ordinarily he would not think twice about such a thing. But this was an unexpected change, and unwelcome.

  “What happened to the old teacher?”

  “Mrs. MacDonald said she got sick, and she might be gone a while.”

  A sick teacher was nothing to be suspicious about, and yet a change right before the king’s visit did not sit quite right in Abdul Halim’s mind. He hadn’t gotten as far in life as he had by not being cautious. It might be nothing, but what if it was?

  “Ah, I see. And do you like this Mrs. MacDonald?”

  “I guess so. She’s not as old as Mrs. Fortson. And she’s pretty.”

  Abdul Halim set Lana down, though she pouted when he did so. “Go and play with your dolls. Daddy has phone calls to make.”

  She skipped off a second later, and he turned and went back to his office. He was simply too close to achieving everything he’d dreamed to allow anything to interfere.

  He would learn who this Mrs. MacDonald was before they commenced with their plans. God help her if she wasn’t what she claimed to be…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “The King of Qu’rim. Jesus.” Matt raked a hand through his hair.

  Kev frowned. “We don’t know that’s Al Ahmad’s plan, but it’s a small event and the security detail will be small as well. If the Freedom Force wants to make a grab for the king, that would be the place to do it.”

  “They might be planning to assassinate him. We should consider that possibility.” It was Hawk who’d spoken. Thinking like a sniper, naturally.

  Kev shook his head. “I’m not disagreeing that we should consider it, but we also need to consider what grabbing him would mean for them. They’d have the fucking King of Qu’rim under their control. And even if they planned to kill him in the end, they’d surely milk the power that controlling him would give them first.”

  Matt chewed his lip. “It could be either one. If they kill him, they plunge Qu’rim into chaos. And that would certainly help their cause. But the king’s brother would take the reins of government, so they wouldn’t be without a king for long.”

  “Unless the brother is the one feeding information to the Freedom Force.”

  They all looked at each other. Anything was possible and they didn’t trust anyone outside this room. There’d been fears of a leak in the king’s inner circle, whic
h was why they’d been very careful about the information they’d fed to the Qu’rimis. But they had no proof. No one did.

  Billy Blake tapped on his computer like a madman. “I’ve got the schematics for the building. We can plan for an assault.”

  “Either way, we have to go in,” Kev said. Several of the guys nodded.

  Matt had that look that said he was concentrating. “I need to inform Mendez. But the NSA hasn’t reported a damn thing about an attempt on the king.”

  “You said they’d broken one channel,” Kev replied. “Maybe he hasn’t let the plan filter down to the rank and file yet. That’s obviously not his main channel if there’s no word.”

  “Or he’s not planning to do anything,” Hawk said. “If he has a real life here, and a child in school, why would he jeopardize that for a risky operation to grab or kill the king?”

  “Because he’s a sociopath,” Lucky interjected. As one, they swiveled their heads to look at her. She’d removed the Arab garments and sat there in her long-sleeved white shirt and pale blue pants. Her hair was curly today, and Kev thought of it wild and messy as she’d sat on top of him in bed with her beautiful curves within reach.

  It seemed a lifetime ago now.

  Lucky set down her bottle of water. “He thinks he’s a god. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. He’s smart and patient and arrogant. If he hasn’t made an attempt on the king before now, it’s because it hasn’t suited his plans. But it might now. Because Qu’rim is falling apart and Baq is no longer safe, as we know from experience. It’s not definitive proof he’ll try to kidnap or kill the king, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. If he’s going to act, it’ll be now.”

  The guys all looked at her with respect. Not that they didn’t respect her already after how hard she’d worked to be here, but the fact she was contributing to the discussion in such a vital and thoughtful manner went a long way toward making them more certain she wasn’t a liability. Kev knew they’d worried about it, and it filled him with a strange kind of pride that they saw her as capable of contributing something useful besides a visual ID of their target.

  Kev met Matt’s gaze. “We have to be ready,” he said. “If we aren’t and Al Ahmad succeeds, the tide of the conflict will turn.”

  “Agreed,” Matt replied. “I’m calling Mendez.”

  He went over to the table and picked up the satellite phone. Kev followed him outside as he popped up the antenna and made the call. A few seconds later, the phone connected and Matt hit the secure button. It was a direct link to Mendez, so there was no waiting for the colonel to get the phone. Matt laid out the situation while Kev listened. There was a long minute where Matt said nothing. He met Kev’s gaze while they waited.

  And then he nodded, a grin forming on his face. “Copy that, sir.” He ended the call and huffed out a breath. “We’ve got a go order. Mendez will liaise with the NSA and CIA, but we’re set to begin operations.”

  Relief and apprehension washed through Kev at once. He was relieved they had a target and apprehensive because it meant they had a definite date when Lucky would be in greater danger than she was now. Because she had to be at that event, and she had to be ready to ID Al Ahmad. He’d never relished putting her in the line of fire for this mission, but so long as she taught school children English and tried to figure out which child was their target’s kid, it didn’t seem as life-threatening a mission for her.

  But now the hard work would begin. They had three days to get the plan in place. And three days before Lucky came face to face with the man who’d carved his marks into her flesh. Kev hoped she was strong enough to face it. And that he was strong enough to let her.

  ***

  The next three days passed in a whirlwind of activity. The guys kept watch throughout each day and night while simultaneously planning to thwart a kidnapping—or assassination, since they couldn’t be sure which way it would go—down to the last detail. The atmosphere in the house was tense, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. Lucky remembered it from when she’d been assigned interpreter duties with HOT. The energy surrounding a mission was always palpable.

  But this was the closest she’d ever been to the actual execution of a critical op. Always before, she’d been on the periphery. Far on the periphery, smoothing the way in Arabic-speaking countries where her language skills were needed. Here, she was a critical member of the team.

  It was exciting and frightening all at once. She still dreamed about Al Ahmad, still woke in a cold sweat with the memory of his gleaming eyes and the glitter of his knife’s edge as it descended toward her skin. But there was something else too—determination, fierce and icy. She wanted to stop him. She wanted him trussed up like a pig, and she wanted to slip a knife between his ribs.

  She told herself that was carrying it a step too far, and yet he’d caused so much pain and suffering for so many people that she couldn’t help but feel he deserved a measure of the same. It wasn’t the plan, however. The plan was to thwart any kidnapping or assassination attempts on the king and sweep up Al Ahmad and transport him to the States to stand trial for the murder of innocent Americans.

  It was a delicate operation. So delicate that they had not warned the king’s government about their plans. They couldn’t take any chances that the information would leak. Once Al Ahmad was in their control, the king would be notified. They had to do so in order to get clearance for an immediate military transport out of the country. Every step was delicate, and there were so many things that could go wrong, but she trusted that the team knew what they were doing. This wasn’t their first rodeo, as her stepdad would have said.

  The reception would take place in the grand hall of the Prince Faisal School where all the teachers, students, and parents would mingle as they celebrated the success of the school and solicited the continuing support of the community. Education for girls was a controversial topic in a nation like Qu’rim, but with the government behind it, the initiative was winning the hearts and minds of the people.

  Many of the girls’ parents were high-placed government officials, which was worrisome in its own way. Because they had to ask themselves if Al Ahmad was a government official. Or maybe he was just one of the wealthy businessmen who sent their daughters to the school for an exclusive education. Either way, the fact he had a daughter there was of concern.

  Lucky turned her thoughts to the girls. She had spent the last three days studying them closely, talking with them, and trying so hard to figure out which one of them could be Al Ahmad’s daughter. But she was no closer than she’d ever been. Some of the girls were gregarious. Others were shy. Which would his daughter be? How could anyone know?

  The night of the party, Lucky put on a dark silk abaya and a cream hijab and then studied herself in the mirror for a long time. She wasn’t the same person she’d been two years ago, but of course her features were the same. Her skin was darker and her hair was hidden, but that wasn’t enough to hide her from Al Ahmad. They’d debated putting in false teeth to give her an overbite and contacts to change her eye color when they’d been planning this mission back at HOT HQ, but they’d dismissed the idea because the overbite would make talking a challenge and the contacts would only make her eyes stand out rather than recede. Her eyes were already dark—blue or green contacts would make them too different from the majority of Qu’rimis and therefore noticeable.

  In the end, Mendez had accepted her reasons for not wanting the teeth or the contacts. Now she was almost wishing she’d gone for the teeth, no matter how difficult it would have been to speak to the girls and teach them proper English.

  The door to the room opened and Kev walked in. He was wearing a tuxedo, and her heart skipped several beats. As her “husband,” he was invited to the reception. As her protector, she was damned glad he’d be there.

  She turned and let her gaze fall from his face to his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt and black silk lapels of his jacket. She’d never seen him in a suit before, so a tuxed
o was just this side of miraculous. And it was most certainly stunning.

  His brows were drawn low. He looked dead serious. “Wow,” she said, hoping to elicit a grin at least.

  He didn’t crack. But he glanced down at his tux and then back up at her.

  “Give you a Lamborghini and a slinky blonde, and no one would think you were anything but a movie star,” she teased.

  He snorted softly.

  “You ready for this?” His voice was filled with concern, and she knew it was all for her. Warmth glowed inside her.

  “As ready as I can be.” She stepped away from the mirror and went to join him. “Truthfully, I’m glad we’re going to this thing. I want this over with, and if that’s where he’s going to be, that’s where we’ll get him.”

  He frowned. “This isn’t what I anticipated. I thought we’d watch the school for a few weeks, and you’d figure out which kid was his. Or maybe we’d intercept a call, and you’d ID his voice. Anything but this.”

  She touched his arm. “I don’t know what I thought, but I always thought I’d have to see him again. Anything else would be too simple, right?”

  He caught her hand in his and tugged her toward him. The door was still open and she glanced at it, but then she went into his arms anyway. They’d barely touched in days now, and it was almost too much to be next to his heat and hardness again. Emotion overwhelmed her and her eyes filled with tears that she didn’t want him to see.

  But somehow he knew. He cupped the back of her head and held her close.

  “There are about a million things I want to say to you right now, but I don’t know how.” His voice was low and intense and she shivered.

  She could feel his heart beating hard, and she closed her eyes and just let it pound against her ear. So long as he was alive. So long as he was alive…

  “You don’t have to say anything. This is enough for now.”

  He squeezed her to him—and then he tipped her chin up and fused his mouth to hers. She met him hungrily, greedily, kissing him as if it were the last time. Someone made a noise and they broke apart guiltily.