Dangerously Hot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#4) (25 page)

“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 tuxedo 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.

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.