Secret Agent Sheikh

“Everything would’ve worked out if he hadn’t stepped in.”

“If the DOD had listened to me about the Taj Zabbar building weapons of mass destruction in the first place, we could’ve worked this sting together and nothing would’ve been lost.”

They’d both spoken at the same time and their words were more or less blown away in the confusion. Exasperated, Jass folded her arms over her chest and sat back.

The general pinned her with a steely gaze. “Did it once occur to you to ask what item could’ve been big enough to induce the Nigerian to come out of the shadows and attend last night’s sale?”

“I figured it was big drug deal or maybe U.S. counterfeit currency plates, sir. Rumor has it the Nigerian has been raising funds and buying into moneymaking schemes all over Europe.” Jass was becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

The general waved his hand dismissively. “My fault. I should’ve seen this coming when I approved your plan.”

Next he turned on Tarik. “You thought you recognized Special Officer O’Reilly in her disguise. Is that right?”

Tarik nodded once.

“And yet you went out on the balcony to rescue someone you knew to be a competent officer and turned your back on the briefcase containing a nuclear device.”

Tarik’s face paled and his jaw became impossibly hard.

The general surprised him by flashing a grin. “I guess we’re all treading in deep water over this screwup. Let’s see what we can do to make it right.”

Jass didn’t like the sound of that. She had no intention of ever doing anything with the infuriating sheik Kadir.

Tarik could see the frustration building on Jass’s face. He knew what that was like. He’d been trying for months to convince the DOD, and General Wainwright in particular, that the Taj Zabbar were a serious and growing danger to the world. Up until this morning, he hadn’t succeeded.

He forced his attention back to the general. “I just finished speaking to my brother at Kadir headquarters, sir. The briefcase has disappeared—along with the Elder bin Khali Taj Zabbar. We’ll pick him up again, though it might take some time. But Darin did get a line on that other matter you asked about.” He took a breath. “Seems our technical unit has been hearing the same rumors over the social networks that your units have, and we’re fairly sure the Taj Zabbar will be involved in that upcoming auction, too.”

“Then that gives us a place to start fresh together.” The general tilted his head to address Jass. “We caught a break when another DOD split task force captured an al-Qaeda operative in Pakistan last week. The Pakistanis have been interrogating the man and yesterday obtained a major piece of intel.”

Tarik watched as Jass’s expression went from resigned and frustrated to hopeful and eager. She was arresting to look at with her exotic mix of cultures. Not classically beautiful, but expressive and fascinatingly intense when she thought she wasn’t being observed. A man couldn’t avoid keeping his eyes trained on that face. At least, not this man.

“It seems our Russian from last night’s auction had another partner,” the general continued. “Someone still operating in the wind who supposedly has one more auction scheduled for next week.”

“Another briefcase bomb? Surely not. That’s—”

The general’s hand chopped the air to stop her words. “No, another bomb would’ve been impossible to sneak out of Russia, even for a genius like Karolek Petrov. But it seems there is one more item up for bid that’s worth paying a king’s ransom—at least for terrorists.”

Jass sat up a little straighter. “A detonator or timing device of some sort?”

“Good point. It’s possible. We don’t know for sure.” General Wainwright folded his hands on the desk and stared down at them. “Whatever it is, it’s big. All we know are the identities of some of the bidders and the approximate location and date. We need to know the rest.”

Jass’s eyes rounded and dilated. Bless her fiendish little heart. Tarik could see she was almost drooling over the potential of being given such a plum assignment. When she learned the truth, that this was going to be his sting—not hers—he had a feeling her expressive face would be speaking a different language.

“Do we have a way to firm up the location?” Jass asked the general.

She was starting to believe this would be more of a golden opportunity rather than the end of her career. She snuck a look at Ed, her handler, and was puzzled by his narrowed expression. He apparently knew something she did not.

“The auction will definitely be taking place in Brazil,” the general answered with authority. “The Russian’s partner, also one of the Russian mob but not as clever as Petrov, has developed a network headquartered in Rio. That much we know for sure. The Kadir family’s intel unit has put feelers out and we expect to have better information as we get closer to the date.”

The Kadir family intel unit? What the heck was that? And what the devil was wrong with their own CIA intelligence? No wonder Ed was not looking too happy.

Jass pinned her lips together to keep from making a remark she might regret later. She was still convinced she was only a hairsbreadth away from being kicked out of the Task Force over last night’s screwup. The way this new mission turned out would make all the difference to her career.

She had to keep her job. It was her only chance to live up to the high standard her father set years ago. Thank God it appeared she was being given the opportunity.

“Special Officer O’Reilly, your background file says you can speak both Russian and Farsi. Is that correct?” The general had his gaze trained on her face.

“Yes, sir. My mother’s family was originally from Iran and I spoke Farsi before English. I learned the Russian language for a covert op a few years back.”

“Well, Farsi is not perfectly suited for this mission but we can make it work. The Russian is pivotal.”

He was going to make her the operative in charge of the mission after all! Relief nearly brought her to tears. Jass was thrilled to get the badly needed superior position to make up for the one she’d messed up. Taking a deep breath, she turned to study Kadir. What was his role here? Informant? Adviser?

Whatever it was, she hoped they wouldn’t have to work together too closely or for terribly long. The man rode her nerves whenever his gaze raked over her body. Which was pretty much every time she’d ever run into him.

“We’ve devised a sting to take advantage of a couple of lucky breaks.” The general turned to Ed for an affirmative nod, then continued. “First, about a month ago, ICE agents apprehended a woman who’s been on Homeland’s watch list for years. She’s an international illegal arms dealer with no allegiance to any country and who seems devoid of any scruples about the deals she makes.”

“The Messenger?” Jass knew of only one woman who might fit that criteria.

The general nodded grimly. “As a favor to us, Homeland has kept the lid on her capture. We’re sure nothing has leaked out to any of the intelligence community.”

Jass was positive he was correct. She’d been following the exploits of the mysterious woman known as the Messenger for years and knew nothing of her capture.

Turning to Tarik, the general explained further. “This shadowy female dealer’s real name is Celile Kocak. Originally Uzbekistani from Russian and Turkish decent, as I understand. Her exploits in the field of buying and selling arms have been embellished over time, yet no one had ever seen a picture of the woman.

“Now that we have her in custody,” he went on. “It turns out she has a few years on Special Officer O’Reilly. But other than that, the two could easily pass as sisters.”

Wow. Think of that. The mysterious woman who had captured her imagination for forever looked enough like her to be a sister. Jass was enthralled by the idea of passing for such a deadly and merciless criminal on a sting.

From his position next to her, Tarik cleared his throat. “You said there’d been two lucky breaks?”

“Indeed. Under intense interrogation we’ve learned that this Kocak woman has been scouring the market for the last few months, looking for special arms to buy for another mysterious character. A shady Middle Eastern sheik who goes by the name of Abu Zohdi. We’ve been trying to track him down, and he’s recently turned up in an English jail in the Bahamas—although they didn’t know who they had in custody.

“This middle-easterner is one extremely dangerous and rich terrorist,” the general went on to explain. “With close ties to al-Qaeda. And the Bahamians were about to release him due to lack of evidence. It was only by pure luck that we obtained his whereabouts from the Kocak woman before he was long gone.”

“We have Abu Zohdi in our hands now?” Jass knew that name too and was beginning to worry about where the general’s explanation was heading.

“Momentarily. In the meantime we are continuing to interrogate the Kocak woman, trying to learn what kind of arms will be for sale in Rio.”

Yes, the more information she had before going in, the better prepared she would be to disrupt the sale. “Excuse me, General Wainwright, but what result do you anticipate from our mission? Is it more important to capture this other Russian or to take control of whatever weapons are for sale?”

The general raised one eyebrow and she almost giggled at the silly picture he made. “I trust you will not hesitate to confiscate anything as potentially dangerous as a nuclear bomb if it’s placed right in front of you, Officer O’Reilly. Not this time.”

Her smile faded in that instant. She felt her cheeks warming and was glad for her golden skin tones. Fairer women had a more difficult time disguising their embarrassment.

“Yes … uh … no, sir.”

“Your job on this sting is to get your partner inside that auction to meet all the bidders. Gather information. Intel is your ultimate assignment with the Task Force, remember.” The general narrowed his eyes at her. “Your handler will give you further instructions once we get a clearer picture of what’s going on inside.”

“My partner?” Jass’s whole body tensed.

“Kadir here will be going in undercover as your client, Abu Zohdi. For months he’s been trying to convince the DOD that the Taj Zabbar have become terrorists worthy of our attention.” He spoke in a low, measured tone. “If they do show up at this meeting ready to buy, my boss will have to accept that they’re powerful enough to pose a threat to the world.”

Jass’s mind raced with good reasons why she couldn’t take Tarik Kadir along with her on a mission. The number-one reason being that he was no longer employed by the United States government. He’d quit.

Tarik stirred in his seat beside her. They shot a glance at each other. He didn’t seem all that thrilled about working with her either.

“But sir, I respectfully ask you to reconsider,” she pleaded. “I can handle this mission better alone. If you want to know the identities of the people at the auction, leave it to me. I’ll get names, pictures and backgrounds on everyone involved with no trouble. It’s my job.”

“Besides,” she continued, desperately trying to come up with a good argument in her favor. “Doesn’t the Messenger always work alone? On behalf of a client, for sure, but haven’t her past clients always remained unnamed?”

“Not recently. Your intelligence on the Messenger is at least a year behind. You’d better study her files carefully on your way to Rio.”

“But …”

The general tilted his head toward her as if to say he was done with her questions. But then he made one more chilling remark to top off his side of the argument and leave no doubt why this sting would go down exactly his way.

“Over the last year, Celile Kocak and Abu Zohdi have become lovers. According to her, they seldom leave each other’s sides. In fact, that’s how ICE got their hands on her. She made a mistake in her haste through the States to the Bahamas trying to reach her lover and bail him out of jail.”

Lovers? Oh, Lord.

She felt Tarik go rigid in his seat beside her as he asked, “Lovers, sir? Exactly how close to that definition do you want us to stay?”

“Close enough for it to appear you can’t keep your hands off each other, Mr. Kadir. This joint mission was originally your idea. And you agreed to accept one of our Task Force agents as your partner.”

The general glared at both agents.

“Now stick to the plan we’ve drawn up. You two are going in as lovers or the whole deal is off.”

Chapter 3

Jass’s knees were still trembling an hour after her meeting with General Wainwright. She’d finally shed the scratchy dress for her jeans, but her mind continued racing with possible scenarios for escape.

She couldn’t imagine having to work with the irritating sheik. Now, while sitting alone across from Ed having coffee, she had the feeling she’d stepped onto a boat that was taking on water.

“I don’t like it any better than you do, Jass. He’s a loose cannon and I’m not sure we can trust him.”

Ed Langdon, her longtime friend as well as her handler, ran a hand across tired-looking eyes. The poor guy hadn’t had any more sleep than she had last night.

“But we don’t have a choice.” He sighed and stared into his coffee. “You have to at least go through the motions of this sting with Kadir or else Wainwright may bust us both out of the Task Force.”

“Oh, Ed. No. Whatever I screwed up had nothing to do with you.”

He dug his fingers through his thinning hair and then went back to drinking coffee with both hands wrapped around the mug. “You’re my responsibility. When an assignment goes bad, it’s my fault.”

Ed was the closest thing to a father figure she’d had since her own father died on a CIA covert mission nearly ten years ago. At that time she had recently graduated college and was interviewing with the Agency for her first job. Her father had wanted her to go to law school. He’d wanted something safer and saner for his daughter than he’d had for himself.

But she’d always seen her father as the sun, the moon and the brightest star in the sky. Everything revolved around him and had since her mother died when she was a girl. What her father did for a living was exciting. Stimulating. The very idea of undercover work had thrilled her down to her bones.

Her mother had been the steady one in the family. The rock. She’d had a nice, normal job as an accountant. And what did that get her? She’d been kidnapped from her nice safe office, robbed and murdered.

No thanks. Jass would take her chances with undercover work.

“I don’t like the whole idea of this Kadir character forcing himself on you while you try to make an ill-conceived plan work. He’s charismatic when he wants to be.”

Jass bristled. “Geez, Ed. You know me better than that. No one takes advantage of Jasmine O’Reilly.”

Ed gave her a lopsided smile. “I know, honey. Sometimes I think you take yourself far too seriously. How long has it been since you’ve even had a date?”

“Uh, a while. I’ve been working. It’s hard to go out when you’re playing the part of a dangerous Indonesian spy or in disguise as the girlfriend of an IRA terrorist.” She shrugged. “But I don’t feel deprived. I like undercover work. A lot.”

Ed grinned. “Yep. Too damned independent and serious for your own good. You can’t go through your whole life like that, you know.”

After her father had died, Ed had gone to bat for her at the Agency. He’d been her father’s partner and longtime friend and said he wanted to help her however he could. And when Ed was promoted to being SAC and a handler, he’d made sure she was under his wing and came along, too. He’d always been every bit as concerned about her as a person as he was with her as a covert officer under his control.

Jass fiddled with her paper napkin. “I have lots of time for a life later. I’m only twenty-nine. You know how important it is to me to be the best at what I do.”

Ed sat silent for a few moments. Finally he said, “Look, you have to take this assignment. But you don’t have to fall for whatever Kadir is selling. I believe he has his own agenda and will try to gain your trust so he can somehow get his hands on the prize.” He looked at her intently. “Don’t let him. As usual, I’ll be standing by to remind you to keep your head in the game. Listen to me.”

“Don’t I always?” she murmured, smiling at Ed.

He blew out a breath and chuckled. “Okay, little girl. Good enough for now. Let’s see about getting you prepped for whatever surprises come your way.”

Tarik had to force his gaping mouth shut when Jass climbed into the back of their limo with him. Man, did she look hot. Not that she didn’t always look terrific, with her sexy auburn hair, exotic hazel-green eyes and a body to drool over.

But this sophisticated persona of the deadly Celile Kocak sent electric shivers straight to his groin. Maybe their mission wouldn’t be hard to take after all.

The CIA handler, Ed, slammed the limo’s back door after her and slid into the front seat next to the driver. “You all set, Kadir?”

Tarik wasn’t paying much attention to Ed. He had better things to look at. Dressed in one of those French-designed suits and Italian leather four-inch heels, Jass never turned her head his way. She kept staring out the window as the limo began to roll away from the hotel.

Tarik absently adjusted his gold-braided head scarf and spoke to Ed without turning. “Becoming a rich Middle Eastern sheik is one disguise that shouldn’t be too much of a problem for me, Langdon.”

He kept his eyes trained on Jass. “You look amazing. Run into any trouble with the background intel?”

She turned her head only slightly and a strand of that long, luxurious mane slid over one dark-brown contact, obscuring it from his view. “I know how to do my job.”

If it wasn’t a balmy, late winter day in Monte Carlo, Tarik would’ve expected an ice storm. Much more of that kind of cold shoulder and this assignment might be the death of him yet.

“Well, I wish one of you could speak Portuguese,” Langdon added from the front seat. “A dozen languages between you and yet not the one that might save your ass in Brazil.”

“Spanish is close enough,” Tarik said without as much as a smirk on his face. “We can fake it.”

Jass shot him another icy, half-hidden glare and inched closer to her door. “You can bet the Cariocas will notice we don’t speak their language.”

“We’re going in as tourists,” he argued. “Arms buyers. Not Rio natives. We’ll get along.”

Tarik heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back in his seat. Yes indeed, this was going to be one long, miserable assignment. And if they couldn’t find some middle ground, they’d both be lucky to come away from it alive.

A few hours later, flying high above the Atlantic, Tarik loosened the seat belt in his first-class seat and checked on Jass. He thought she might be trying to sleep, but she was wide awake and working on her laptop. She had the privacy screen set on the laptop so no one could read over her shoulder and she looked for all the world like any wealthy international businesswoman.

They needed to begin bonding. He’d let her put an aisle between them for the flight. But the minute they left the relatively secluded confines of this first-class cabin and moved into the duel worlds of espionage and glitz in Rio, they would have to begin the lovey-dovey act. The snow princess would have to thaw or the entire mission would be compromised.

He cleared his throat, moved into the empty seat beside her and pitched his voice low enough to be heard only by her. “I understand you keep an apartment in D.C. How long has it been since you’ve been home?”

She flipped down the laptop’s lid and turned her head, pushing back the thick veil of hair covering the side of her face. “You’ve been reading my file? Maybe it would be better if you stuck to studying the files concerning Celile and Zohdi.”

“We only have a few hours to work on becoming an intimate couple.” How could she rile him this quickly? “I thought it would be smart for us to get to know each other a little better on a personal level first.”

Jass frowned and drew a weary breath. “Fine. D.C. is not my home. I was raised in Chicago by my mother’s family—which of course you know if you’ve read my file. But the apartment in D.C. is a few blocks from where my father used to keep his base while working for the Agency. As a kid I visited him between assignments and I know a little about the neighborhood. Still, it isn’t what I would call a real home.

“When you come right down to it,” she added quietly. “I don’t guess I have what most people would call a home. Never felt the need for one.”

Ah, but the wistful tone in her voice said that last statement was a lie. Tarik filed the interesting bit of information away for a later time when he’d gotten to know her better.

“But that’s something we have in common,” he murmured. “See? We haven’t been talking for more than a few moments and already we’ve found a subject to agree on. None of the extended Kadir family have formal roots either. Not for a thousand years. We’re …”

“Nomads,” she supplied. “Originally Bedouins. Yes, I read your file, too.”

He felt ridiculously pleased that she’d cared enough to read his file. Not that he should have doubted it. Whatever else Ms. Jasmine O’Reilly turned out to be underneath her many personas, she was a serious and dedicated CIA operative. She would never go on a mission unprepared, even one that had been as spur of the moment as this one.

The flight attendant brought them both glasses of white wine. Jass took a sip before thanking the fellow and sending him away.

“Why did you resign your commission?” she asked as she studied Tarik over the rim of her glass. “The files weren’t clear on that point.”

Ah yes, the billion-dollar question. He knew the men in his old Special Forces unit and many of his former comrades in the joint Task Force were asking themselves the same thing. Well, he wanted to become closer to Jass for this mission. Might as well tell her all of it.

“I doubt my file has a notation in it explaining the five-hundred-year-old family feud between the Kadir family and the Taj Zabbar tribes of Zabbarán. It’s something my brothers and I barely understand ourselves.”

Jass set down her wine but kept her eyes trained on his face. “I discovered a little about the feud by doing a Google search. Originally, the Kadirs were caravan traders on the Spice Route. And around five hundred years ago the caravan was decimated by the fierce Taj Zabbar tribes. Right so far?”

He nodded, fascinated by her low, hypnotic voice.

“Yes, well. Apparently the Kadirs turned around and destroyed as many of the Taj Zabbar as they could in retaliation.”

“Hold on. Our side of the story is a lot different. The Kadirs had no choice. We had to neutralize the threat in order to survive. The Taj wouldn’t stop. They kept on coming. They …”

He stopped himself mid-rant and forced a smile when her eyes gleamed with humor. “Okay, I agree. That was centuries ago and no real written records were kept at the time. It could’ve happened the way you said. And at a much later date we weren’t exactly angels when it came to our treatment of the Taj.”

“Ah yes,” she interrupted. “Let’s jump the story ahead to fifty years ago when the Kadirs were already filthy rich in the shipping industry and looking to fur ther their interests in the Zabbarán territory.” She quirked a brow. “Didn’t your family make a secret deal with the Taj Zabbar’s neighbors and oppressors, the Kasht? Supposedly the Kadirs traded guns and other armaments for the sole rights to the only deep-water port in Zabbarán and the surrounding area. Right?

“Now that was really some Spice Trade.” She’d added her own answer with a wry smile. “And didn’t the Kasht use those very weapons to subdue a revolt by the Taj? They killed Taj women and children, put the men into slave labor and then burned and pillaged everything in sight. Nice family trade, Kadir.” A note of derision filled her voice. “Why am I not even a little surprised that the Taj hate your family and want revenge?”