Dangerously Hot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#4) Page 19

  Hawk was standing in the doorway, his eyebrows a little higher than usual. But he didn’t say anything other than, “We’re ready to go whenever you are.”

  Kev put his hand on her back protectively. His eyes flashed, as if he dared Hawk to say anything else. Instead, he turned and disappeared, and she felt Kev’s stance relax slightly.

  “Busted,” she said, and he laughed.

  “Darlin’, we’ve been busted for a while. They’re all just pretending not to know.”

  She glanced up at him. They still hadn’t talked about the night he’d walked out when she’d told him about the divorce. “Does it bother you that they know?”

  His eyes were troubled. “Marco’s gone and we’re still here.” His chest drew up tight as he sucked in a breath. “I’m working on it not bothering me.”

  She squeezed his hand as relief slid through her. If he could say that much, then maybe there was hope after all.

  “It takes time.” And then she drew in a breath for courage. “I won’t let any of you down, I swear. I’m focused on this.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. They’d been like family in their own way and she loved all these guys, even if she loved one in particular more than the rest.

  If only she could tell him that.

  “I’ll be at your side the whole way, Lucky. When you ID him, we’ll take it from there. In and out, clean and quick.”

  She nodded firmly. “Copy that.”

  She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she was afraid to do it when there was so much on the line. And yet some sixth sense insisted that she needed to say the words, no matter how difficult. That it was important to do it before they went out there tonight and the mission was the only thing on their minds. She took a deep breath.

  “Kev, I—”

  “Transport’s here.” Billy Blake stood in the door, and the words died in her throat. Kev took her hand and led her from the room. The moment was gone and the drumbeat of worry began its tattoo in her belly.

  ***

  Tonight was the night. Abdul Halim waited for his wife to finish getting dressed as he walked to the window. The sun was sinking and Baq glowed in the golden light. Like a beacon. Like a new beginning.

  Abdul Halim’s chest swelled with pride and satisfaction. This was it. He’d worked hard and long for this moment. He’d suffered. He’d lost everything and started over more than once. He’d been dirt-poor, and he’d been wealthy, and he liked wealthy far better. But even better than wealth was power. The power to shift nations. The power to make the United States sink to their knees and beg for mercy.

  The power to craft his own destiny. He had that now, and tonight he would have the power to craft the destinies of many.

  He heard Fatima bustling around in their room, heard the rustle of silk and the soft feminine voice as she sang to herself. He glanced at his watch. There was time, if he wanted to have her. He could walk into the bath and, with a look, she would drop her gown and come to him on her knees. It was fitting on the night of his triumph that she should do so.

  And yet he could not afford to wreck his concentration on the task at hand for even a moment. Tonight, when they had the king and the mine had fallen, when the Ministry of Science was theirs for the taking and the world trembled because the Freedom Force had pulled off a major coup, then he would indulge. And not only with Fatima.

  Fatima was for sex and spending his lust. But tonight he also wanted pain. Not his, certainly not. Someone else’s. Male or female, he did not care. Someone would pay for all the angst and drama he’d had to suffer to get to this moment.

  He wished it could be Lucky Reid. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip of the sweetly bitter brew. Ah, what a glorious night it would be if he could have her too.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. Not his personal phone, but the phone that mattered most to his life.

  “Yes?”

  It was Farouk. “All is in place for tonight.”

  “Excellent. And the teacher?”

  “We have just obtained a photo of her and her husband from one of our contacts. I’m texting it to you now.”

  Abdul Halim waited impatiently for the ding. When it arrived, he pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the photo. The woman was wearing traditional garb, and her face was in profile as she looked up at the man. A shot of ice rocketed down his spine. It was the same tall man he’d seen in the news video from the bombing near the American embassy.

  And the woman. His breath caught in his lungs, stopped utterly until he forced it out again. There was no doubt it was Lucky Reid. And she would be at the reception tonight, which meant this was no coincidence. The man at her side was most likely a military operative.

  His fingers curled hard around his phone. The edges bit into his skin, and he eased his grip before he crushed the screen. Damn them! The Americans had somehow learned about the plan to take the king. Rage rolled through him in bright, blood-red waves. Someone would pay for this betrayal. Heads would roll.

  “Abdul Halim?”

  He realized that Farouk had been repeating his name for several moments. “It is her, Farouk. The Americans are here.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long moment. “We should call off the operation.”

  They should. It was prudent and logical.

  But fury held him in its grip. He was too close to winning everything to let this chance go.

  “No.” His voice was a slash in the air. He stood bathed in the light from the setting sun and let his mind whirl through the possibilities. There must be a way. He would not accept defeat. Not this time.

  “We’re altering the plan, Farouk. But we are still going to take the king.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kev sat across from Lucky in the van. Her head was turned so she was in profile, and he caught himself studying her endlessly. She was quietly beautiful. Elegant. Fierce and small. She was determined tonight. He could see it so clearly on her face.

  And yet she was scared. He knew that too. No one else did, probably, but he knew it because he knew her. He thought back to the moment when he’d held her close. She’d trembled slightly and he’d never wanted to let her go.

  He’d wanted to tell her he was sorry he’d reacted the way he had when she’d told him Marco had wanted a divorce. He’d felt blindsided by that news, and yeah, he’d felt guilty for whatever part he’d played. He’d pushed them together when it hadn’t been right for either of them.

  He also wanted to tell her the things he felt for her. But it was new and frightening, and he was completely out of his element when it came to matters of the heart.

  But he hadn’t said a word because the time wasn’t right. Her focus had to be on tonight. Besides, he was still dealing with the realization himself. It was frightening to care so much about someone else. The last time he’d loved people, he’d lost them senselessly and irrevocably. No matter what Lucky said, he still believed he could have changed it. But it was in the past now and there was no going back. That was what he had to live with.

  And then there was Marco. He couldn’t change that either, but it was still a knot in his heart that wouldn’t go away. Was it wrong to love his best friend’s widow, even when he knew that their relationship had been over? Maybe it was, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d tried to hold back the tide, tried to hide it and keep it contained, but at a certain point it swelled over the barriers and there was no containing it.

  It was frightening and amazing all at once.

  Lucky turned her head and caught his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and his heart thumped. He winked at her and she dropped her gaze to her lap for a long moment. He wondered what she was thinking, but there was no opportunity to ask.

  It was dark out when the van halted on the corner to let them out so they could walk the rest of the distance to the school. They would have taken a taxi, but with the bombings in the city and the uncertainty hanging like
a miasma over everything, it was safer to stick with the team as far as they could.

  Kev popped in his earpiece and the hidden mic and then nodded firmly before stepping from the van and offering his hand to Lucky. She scooted to the edge of her seat and then stepped down to the street. Kev caught her against him, not because it was necessary, but because he wanted to.

  “I got you,” he said as her hands went up and flattened against his chest. She tilted her head back and met his gaze.

  “I know.”

  “We’ll be in position in a few moments,” Matt said from the open door. “The minute you spot him, give Kev the signal. We’ll move in.”

  “Copy,” Lucky said firmly.

  The door closed and the van rolled away. Kev checked his watch, and then they started walking the two blocks to the school. The street wasn’t as crowded as it had been during the day. There were people near the shops and cafes, but they weren’t as numerous as before the two bombs had struck the city. Kev kept Lucky’s hand firmly in his as they walked. He wished they could just keep on strolling, but the school loomed in the distance and danger soured the air the closer they got to it.

  Kev stopped when they were still a block away, though the timing was synchronized to the minute and he shouldn’t stop at all, and Lucky turned with a question on her brow.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He scanned the area and then looked at her again. “Everything.” He pulled in a breath and squeezed her hand. “Lucky, before we go in there, I want you to know that—”

  A van screeched around the corner and jerked to a stop beside them as the doors blasted open. Men with dark keffiyehs, wrapped to cover their faces and leave only their eyes showing, burst from the interior. AK-47s jammed in Kev and Lucky’s faces as a stream of Arabic burst from one of the men.

  Kev’s body coiled tight as he forced himself to study the men around him instead of the terrified look on Lucky’s face. “Got a problem here,” he said softly, hoping his team heard him. “Six men. Assault rifles. Dark Mercedes van. Can’t see the tag.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Matt’s voice in his ear. “Hang tight, Big Mac. We’re coming.”

  Someone jabbed Kev in the side with a gun and Lucky grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into muscle.

  “We have to go with them. They say they’ll shoot us here on the street if we don’t.”

  “They’ll shoot us anyway,” Kev ground out. He lifted his hands skyward, trying to appear as clueless and harmless as an average guy might be in this situation. “But we’re going. Tell them we’re going.”

  He wanted to buy time for his team to get back, but everything was happening too fast. If he resisted, he might gain some time for Lucky because they would surely shoot him. But maybe they’d shoot her too, and that was a risk he simply couldn’t take.

  The man closest to him jabbed him in the side with the rifle barrel again, and Kev moved toward the opening of the van. Someone shoved Lucky and she stumbled. Kev ground his teeth together until he thought his jaw might crack. Trying to defend her wasn’t wise in this moment. He had to get his head off of her and on the job.

  Someone yanked Lucky into the van and threw a sack over her head. And then they did the same to him. They shoved him down on the floor, and he hit something soft. The intake of breath told him it was Lucky. Before he could reach for her, someone grabbed his arms and zip-tied his hands in front of his body. Then they relieved him of the guns he had in the shoulder and ankle holsters he wore.

  The van screeched away from the curb, and they were thrown against each other as it careened around corners. His hopes for immediate rescue dwindled by the minute as nothing impeded their progress.

  The men were silent, and Kev tried to concentrate on the feel of the ride. When they stopped or turned, he tried to pay attention to it. Not that it would help much since he didn’t know their actual speed, but he knew the van had been headed north when it stopped. They hadn’t made any U-turns, only a right and a left. And then they picked up speed, and he knew they must have reached the highway that ran along the outskirts of the city.

  He drew his knees up and put his head down and prayed the road noise would prevent anyone from hearing him talking.

  “On the highway. Think we’re heading north.”

  The earpiece crackled. “Copy,” came through, but it sounded weak.

  Kev concentrated on the sounds around him. He was afraid for Lucky, but not for himself. This is what he did, and he had confidence in his ability and his team. He was wearing a tracking device, and so was she. His team was already mobile and following the GPS to wherever the tangos took them.

  He had to focus on staying alive long enough for HOT to get here. And he had to keep Lucky alive at all costs.

  He could feel her beside him, trembling, and he wanted to put an arm around her and hold her close. Instead, he leaned into her as much as he could, hoping to impart strength. She leaned back, and warmth flowed through him. And frustration.

  He’d told her he would protect her, and he damn well would. She trusted him. Believed in him. And he believed in her.

  The van started to slow, and he knew they’d taken an exit ramp. Finally, they turned right and drove for several minutes before they swung hard right again. And then they stopped and the doors burst open. Kev and Lucky were hustled out of the van and pushed, stumbling and tripping, until a door clanged shut. He waited a few moments, listening hard for noise.

  But there was nothing and he reached up and ripped the hood off. Kev spun around to take in their surroundings. The room wasn’t very big, but it wasn’t the size of a single cell either. There was no furniture. No windows. Nothing but the door with a tiny barred window and the sound of men outside, shouting to each other.

  “We’re alone,” he said, reaching for Lucky’s hood and lifting it off.

  Her eyes were wide, her skin pale. He wanted to kill those men for the way they’d handled her.

  “What are they saying?” he asked gently, lifting his bound hands and running a finger over her cheek.

  She fixed her gaze on him and licked her lips. “The order is not to harm us. Al Ahmad wants us alive… for now.”

  ***

  “Please tell me they’re coming for us,” Lucky said softly. Kev’s gaze was busy gliding over the walls of their prison, but he jerked his eyes back to her.

  “Yes. But this is an opportunity. Don’t forget that.”

  She flexed her hands against the restraints. These were cheap plastic zip ties, not the steel-reinforced ones they should be. Stupid bastards.

  She knew how to break out of them and so did Kev, but he hadn’t yet done so. Since she figured it might be necessary for them to appear incapacitated, she didn’t bust them.

  God, she’d been grabbed from a public street. Like last time. Only this time she had an operator with her and it still happened. Lucky shivered. She didn’t want to be scared, but she couldn’t quite help it. Yes, she had her HOT training to fall back on, and she was damn well determined to do so. But waiting in this room for Al Ahmad to arrive would drive her insane.

  “I wonder how he found us.”

  “Contacts at the school, probably. It was always a risk.”

  Sharp anger flooded her at the way Kev spoke. So matter-of-fact. So cool. Like he was reciting facts for a quiz instead of being held captive by an insane terrorist.

  “How can you be so calm? He’s a madman, and he’s going to kill us both if we don’t get out of here.”

  Kev strode over and stopped inches away. He was crowding her, but she didn’t really care as his big body radiated heat. It took her a second to realize that he was utterly furious. Behind all that calm, cool demeanor was a tiger on a leash.

  His tuxedo was rumpled, his tie askew. And the white zip ties stood out in stark contrast to the darkness of his suit. “We have to be calm. He wants us scared, but calm is what we need. HOT won’t leave us.”

  “But the king…” Tears presse
d against the backs of her eyes. They were the only ones who knew there was a plot against the king. If HOT had to choose rescuing her and Kev or rescuing a king whose survival could dictate the balance of power in the region, which would they choose?

  She knew the answer and it wasn’t them.

  His eyes flashed hot. “Don’t think about that. Concentrate on us.”

  She wanted to do that so much, but it wasn’t easy when her body bore the marks of that madman’s knife. And he was coming. She felt his impending arrival like a malevolent cloud hanging over them, squeezing the life from their tortured bodies. Because he would torture them. She had no doubt.

  And she would rather die than ever be at his mercy again.

  “You won’t let him take me, Kev. Promise you won’t.”

  His brows slashed down. “I said I wouldn’t.”

  She reached out and gripped his fingers with her own. “No, I mean it. Whatever it takes, don’t let him take me away from here. Away from you.”

  His eyes searched hers, widening when he realized what she meant. “No,” he said hoarsely. “Fuck, no. We aren’t going there. You aren’t going to die, you understand me? I won’t let it happen.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I only meant it as a last resort. If all is lost.”

  “All is not lost,” he said fiercely. “They’re out there.”

  “Are they communicating with you?”

  “No.”

  Her heart squeezed. “Maybe they’ve lost the signal. This room is completely closed in.”

  “Or maybe they’ve gone into radio silence because they had to. This isn’t our first mission, for chrissakes. HOT knows what they’re doing.”

  She didn’t mention Marco and Jim because she knew that wouldn’t help the situation. Instead, she pulled in a deep breath and turned to study the walls too. Maybe there was something they were missing. A weakness, a secret entrance, something.

  “These things have got to go,” Kev growled. She turned back to see him ram his elbows against his hip bones—and the zip ties broke, falling uselessly to the floor.