He couldn’t believe he’d just done something so stupid. She was hurting, lonely, and she’d been drinking. When she’d turned to him for comfort he’d gone ahead and taken advantage of it. Oh, he understood she was more than willing to fuck him right now. But for all the wrong reasons. He had to walk away right now before he lost everything—Jordyn and her parents, as well as Jamie.
“I gotta go,” he muttered, already heading for the door.
“Blake!”
Without looking back he shoved on his shoes, walked out the door. He left her staring after him, the memory of that wounded expression on her face eating a hole in his gut. And he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that he’d just ruined the most precious thing in the world to him.
“Tell me what I need to know and I’ll make the pain stop.”
The figure in the bed groaned and shifted slightly, the restricted movements telling everyone in the private hospital room he was in a whole hell of a lot of pain. Not that any of them gave a shit.
“Amir. It’s not gonna get any better until you give me answers.”
Positioned by the door, Blake Ellis leaned back against the wall and watched impatiently as the interrogation proceeded. The air in the room hummed with tension, like a low level electrical charge prickling across his skin.
Alex Rycroft, head of the NSA-sanctioned task force Blake was doing contract work for, leaned over the narrow ICU hospital bed and pinned his silver gaze on the prisoner writhing there. “I’ve got all day, Amir. And the day after that, too. Think you can take the pain that long?”
Amir finally turned his head toward Alex and opened his eyes. The guy looked like death, but that was to be expected after being shot in the arm two nights ago and opting not to get treatment because he was afraid of capture, then being gut shot and coding on the operating table last night. Hospital staff had removed his respirator about thirty minutes ago, and Alex certainly hadn’t wasted any time starting the questioning. Their FBI team member, Jake Evers, stood watch as well, recording everything to be used later on during legal proceedings.
“What…do you…want?” Amir managed weakly.
Alex maintained the aggressive posture, his irritation obvious. Guy might be fifty-one years old, but he was former SF and it showed because he was still intimidating as hell. The urgency was clear. Every hour counted if they were going to get a lead on the terrorist leader behind this latest attack. “I want to know what you were doing in the woods last night.”
“You…know.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
Amir grimaced and closed his eyes, one shaky hand going to the bandages covering his abdomen where the surgeons had stopped him from bleeding out and patched him back up again. His voice was barely audible when he responded. “Trying to kill…woman.”
“Who?”
“Zahra Gill.” His legs shifted, beads of sweat breaking out on his grayish face.
Alex’s expression hardened further, and Blake knew it was because Zahra was sort of like a daughter to him. “Why?”
“Had to,” he gasped.
“
Why
?
”
Amir shook his head, his face screwed up in an expression of agony. “Please. Give me something.”
Blake kept his arms folded across his chest to conceal the way his hands curled into fists. They needed something useful
now
, to prevent whatever attack was coming next. Because from the recent chatter they’d heard, another one was already in the final planning stages. They just didn’t know when or where.
“You get nothing until we’re done,” Alex said coldly. “Why did you have to kill her?”
“Because. Hassani. It was her or me.” He turned his face away again, unable to look at any of them.
Glancing across the room, Blake exchanged a look with Hunter Phillips, ex-SEAL and team leader for the Titanium Security crew the NSA had brought on board to help with the investigation. He and Hunter had both been there when Amir had staggered out onto the road from the edge of the forest last night, bleeding to death from the gunshot wound. They’d all known Malik Hassani was behind all this—he’d been targeting their team members for the past few weeks now—but having it confirmed aloud sent a surge of adrenaline through Blake. Judging by Hunter’s taut expression, they desperately wanted the same thing.
To get over to Pakistan and cut the head off the snake.
Everyone in the room wanted that. Hell, everyone in the global intelligence community did. Hassani was former Pakistani ISI and had his slimy tentacles in every cog of the machine that powered the country. His latest weapon of choice was a certain Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan cell that carried out his dirty work, and both he and his followers were gaining momentum each day he avoided capture.
“He contacted you?” Alex pressed, easing back slightly now that the prisoner was talking.
“No,” Amir groaned.
“Then how did you know it was him behind this?”
“My…handler said so.”
“Abdullo, the Tajik cell member.”
Amir swallowed. “Yes.”
“You went with him and the American Army vet you knew as ‘Bob’ up to Deep Creek Lake to set up the portable EMP device?”
Blake stilled. Nobody knew how the hell Hassani had gotten it, but he’d pulled all kinds of tricks to smuggle it off a US base for the attack. Amir had then used it to knock out power and electronic devices in the area around Deep Creek Lake, where Zahra Gill and Sean Dunphy, another team member, had been staying. The pulse had left them isolated and vulnerable. Blake was glad Zahra had gut-shot the fucker.
“Yes.
Please
…” From the weak rasp in his voice, it was clear Amir was succumbing to pain and exhaustion. Alex risked pushing him beyond the ability to talk if this went on much longer. Blake resisted the urge to check his watch, acutely aware that he had another important meeting to leave for shortly. He shoved the surge of impatience aside, knowing there was nothing he could do to speed this up.
Alex must have seen how worn the prisoner was, because he started firing rapid questions about the other cell members who’d been killed last night. In the dark without the benefit of night vision equipment, Dunphy had still managed to hit both of them. Abdullo had already been dead when Blake and Hunter found him, and “Bob” was unresponsive a few dozen yards away. He’d died before the paramedics arrived.
“You were a hit team, sent in to kill Zahra and the security contractor with her,” Alex accused.
Amir shook his head slightly. “No. They…weren’t with me then. Insurance from Hassani. In case. Then to…kill me.” He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut.
At those words, Alex looked up and met Blake’s gaze questioningly. Blake had been the first one to come across the bodies. He considered his response before answering.
What the prisoner said made sense, and they’d suspected it anyhow. From the position of the bodies, it looked like the other two cell members had infiltrated the woods from a different direction than Amir. There’d been no radios of any kind, only cell phones, so it was unlikely there’d been any communication between them during the attack on Zahra and Dunphy. It appeared the other two had been circling around to cut off Zahra, Dunphy, and their fellow cell member Amir from ever reaching the road.
Blake nodded. “The other two were armed with M-4s, and they’d been firing from the northeast, not the west. We found casings spread all over that area, but none where he was.” He jerked his chin at the man in the hospital bed. While his buddies had been armed with rifles, Amir had been forced to make do with only a single semi-automatic pistol. Something everyone else in the room was already aware of. Just as they all knew how careful Hassani was.
It made total sense that he’d send in a clean-up squad to ensure Zahra and Dunphy were dead, then kill Amir to guarantee nothing got leaked, and get out with the weapon before anyone realized what had happened. If Zahra and Dunphy hadn’t acted so decisively, that’s exactly what would have happened.
Alex nodded and brought Hunter in on the questioning next. Blake maintained his place by the door as the session wound to a close. Amir was visibly shaking by the end, the skin of his face stretched taut over the grimace of agony. Only when Alex had received the last bit of intel he was looking for did he relent and look over at Blake with a terse, “Get the nurse.”
Amir’s audible sigh of relief reached Blake as he left the room and returned with a nurse to administer another hit of morphine from the pump into the IV line. Hunter met him out in the hallway and closed the door behind him.
“That went well.”
Blake grunted, anxious to leave the building and get going. “Yeah. Bet he wishes we’d let him die last night though.”
“Oh, guaranteed. Asshole’s gonna spend the rest of his days rotting in a dark hole surrounded by the enemy. Has a certain sense of poetic justice to it.”
Amir’s door opened and Evers and Alex filed out. Alex nodded at them and walked over to join them.
“Get what you needed?” Blake asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.
Alex nodded. “For now. I’m just gonna give him a taste of what morphine can do for him before I take it away and go at him again. You guys can head out though. Gage and Claire are working on new intel back at the office,” he added, referring to the Titanium team’s second-in-command and his NSA analyst fiancée. “Want to grab a bite to eat first?”
Blake ran a hand over his head. “Can’t. Gotta see about lining up an interview for Tom.” The owner of Titanium Security, who he’d promised this favor.
Hunter eyed him thoughtfully. “Yeah, how come you and Dunphy were all secretive about that yesterday? As co-owner of the company I get to vet all potential employees anyhow, so I’m gonna find out who this mystery person is sooner or later.”
Later was just fine with Blake. “No reason.” Not one he’d willingly discuss, anyhow.
“How is Dunphy, by the way? Anyone check on him yet?” Alex asked, a wicked gleam in his silver eyes.
“Currently recovering from the worst case of the runs he’s ever had,” Hunter answered with a grin. Yesterday he’d spiked the prankster’s brownies with enough laxatives to turn him into a human prune, and right before Dunphy and Zahra had to get on a plane to Coeur d’Alene to see his family. Good times.
Blake shook his head. “Remind me to never piss you off,” he said to Hunter. “You’re twice as evil as Dunphy on his best day.” Of course, that would only make Dunphy want to up his game when he got back.
Hunter grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it—you’re not in my line of fire. Yet. Good luck reeling in this mysterious interviewee. Where did you say you were headed?”
“I didn’t.”
Alex and Hunter both looked at him with intrigued expressions. “There’s a definite story there. I wanna know what it is,” Alex said to Hunter.
“Me too. It’s always the quiet ones who surprise you the most,” Hunter said with a shake of his head.
As a former Marine Scout/Sniper, Blake was well trained in the art of evasion. And he definitely knew when to make a tactical withdrawal. “See you guys later.”
Before they could ask anything else he turned and strode to the elevator. Right now he faced a long drive into Virginia, followed by a head-on, overdue confrontation with his conscience once he got there.
He was looking forward to it as much as stabbing something sharp into his eye.
****
The oppressive atmosphere of his temporary quarters was starting to get to him. Forced to stay in three darkened rooms all day and never leaving the place, it felt like the walls were starting to close in on him.
Malik Hassani pushed up from the soft chair in the corner and paced restlessly around the room. It was only his second night at the safe house in Peshawar. He didn’t know how many more he’d have. Things were too unsettled for him to leave, even at night with armed guards to protect him. His situation was more precarious now than ever.
Three times now his followers had carried out attacks on the Titanium Security team members who had exposed him, and all of them had failed. By now even those who he’d considered loyal to him in the military and political machine had to be questioning his effectiveness.
But not for long. He’d already set the next plan into motion to ensure he maintained the momentum he’d fought so hard to achieve with his allies. All he needed now was to pull the metaphorical trigger.
At the sound of a car engine approaching the back of the house, Malik withdrew his weapon from the holster on his hip and took up position behind the only door in the room. Away from any of the blind-covered windows. If someone wanted to attack him they’d either have to enter the room or use a bomb.
The front door opened and closed. A familiar voice called out the password for the all clear signal and Malik relaxed slightly. Moments later a knock came at the door to his room.
“Sir?”
“Enter.” He kept his finger on the trigger. When the door opened, only his trusted advisor from his ISI days entered and carefully closed the door behind him. Malik motioned Bashir away from the door, his gaze pinned there in case anyone had coerced the man and was waiting in the hall to kill Malik.
“I’m alone.”
Malik never took his eyes off the door. He hadn’t risen to the status he enjoyed now by being naive or trusting. Something his enemies knew very well. “And?”
“I’ve personally activated three of the cell members in Washington. They’re doing reconnaissance now and the operation is set for Sunday morning.”
He nodded and lowered his weapon but maintained some of his focus on the door as he glanced at Bashir. “You’re sure they’re competent?”
“I’m sure.”
His muscles eased. If Bashir felt that confident, it was a good sign. And Malik liked the underscored message of the attack happening on the holiest day of the Christian week. He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but he had and would continue to use it as a weapon to further his agenda. “Anything else?”
Bashir wiped a hand over his short beard. “They still don’t know where you are. The CIA, NSA and MI6 have traced your calls to the mole in the NSA. Ruth Klassen was arrested yesterday morning.”