Sheikh's Rescue

She hunched down, her eyes meeting his. Panic was in his eyes and in the tense line of his lips. “There’s nothing you can do. This is why I was hired,” Jade said patiently as if more words would somehow calm him. “You’re unarmed,” she reminded him, betting that he didn’t even realize that important fact. She saw the fear in his eyes as she delivered the clinching words. “I’m not.”

This time he seemed to get it as his frightened eyes met hers.

Jade turned, rising to her knees to peer over the balcony as she scanned the street for further trouble.

Silence.

To the left of the parking lot was a two-story plain brick building. Its main floor was boarded up. She looked away. Whoever had fired at them had done so from the right. That meant that they were close to the low-rise building. It was an office building, closed on the weekends. Nothing had changed from the last time she’d looked. She glanced back at Stanley. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that he had retreated inside. Her attention went back to the street. Her Colt was in both hands. There was no sound from the other apartments. Her mind went over the last few minutes.

Two shots.

Three if you counted the one with the silencer. That shot had been muted and mostly unheard by those inside, living in the vicinity, but it appeared, so had the others. Gunshots were out of the norm. They were sounds that many people might consider part of their imagination. Television programs, online games, the clamor of day-to-day living masked all sorts of noise, including that which was unanticipated and unfamiliar, gunfire. It would be easily discounted as part of the noise of a television program. Now there was nothing but a strange silence. Was the gunman still out there? And if he wasn’t, where was he?

She slid down with her back to the concrete balcony railing. She debated whether now was the time to report in that her assignment had taken a critical turn.

One more check.

She pushed up over the balcony, looking left and right down the street. A movement to her left; she watched with bated breath. It was nothing but a jackrabbit that had made its way into the city. The hare took its time. It seemed to lope, hopping this way and that, stopping to sniff the air. Finally, it disappeared between two buildings. The street was again empty.

She sank below the railing as she put the Colt down and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Zafir,” he answered with a concerned tone, for this number was never used except in case of emergency.

“Code red,” she said simply. “I’m pinned down at the client’s apartment. Shots from across the street at the client’s balcony. The client’s secure.”

“Last count?”

“Unknown shooter. Three shots fired. Four, if you count mine. He has a silencer.” She looked where the planter used to stand. “It’s been quiet for over five minutes.”

“Did you see...”

“Nothing,” she interrupted. “No visual. Like I said, I got one shot in, that was it. I never had a clear shot and on a public street, well, that just made it difficult.”

“I can imagine,” he said. “Keep it contained if you can. I’ll be there in five.”

The call disconnected as abruptly as it had begun.

Keep it contained if you can.

With gritted teeth, she shoved the phone into her pocket. For a second she really wished that she could shove it somewhere else.

* * *

THE SNOW WOULDN’T stop falling. The man wiped perspiration and melted snow off his upper lip and swore as a car came down the street. Until now, it had been deserted.

He should have taken him out. Except he’d never had a clear shot. The woman had placed herself between him and his target. The plan was to take him out in a maximum of two shots and then get out before the authorities showed up. He’d already shot three. He couldn’t fire any more. Even with his silencer, it was too dangerous. The woman was shooting back. Her gun didn’t have a silencer. The cops could be alerted at any moment. His opportunity had slipped through his fingers, and Stanley had moved off the balcony. There was nothing to be done.

He looked at the handgun with disdain. It had failed him. The silencer didn’t work as easily as he’d been told. He’d fumbled with it. As a result, he hadn’t used it on the first two shots. The owner of the gun store had assured him that it was a “never fail.” He’d said that it was easy to use. He had lied. If he were home, he’d go back and let him know what he thought of his lie. He couldn’t. He was in a foreign country and he had to abide by its rules. If he stepped afoul of the law in any way other than planned, he had a greater chance of getting caught. That would destroy his chances at what was most important. But it was clear that taking someone out wasn’t his forte. He needed help. He would find someone else, someone who could do the job for him.

He’d been stupid to think that he could remain anonymous and complete the job. He needed the money. He hadn’t come all the way here to fail.

He considered the fact that he required assistance. He wasn’t sure why his cousin had hired him. Except that wasn’t true. He knew why. Besides his lies and exaggerations and the fact that he really had killed before, he was disposable. He always had been. He grimaced.

Maybe a hit man was what he needed, someone more skilled at killing than him. He’d killed only two people in his life—one who had invaded his home and another who’d invaded his life. That hardly made him an expert, not like a hit man. He’d read of them and seen shows, American productions. Those shows had been fiction. Still, he knew that such people existed. They just did not advertise their wares in a storefront that was easily found.

He looked at the watch on his right wrist. He fiddled with the silver bracelet. It wasn’t quite noon. He pulled out his phone and thumbed over the screen. There was one man who would know where to look. One man he could rely on to dig deep into the dregs of society and find someone who could do the job. The unfortunate thing of it was that it would not come cheap, and he needed every penny that had been offered him to get this job done.

Panic ran through him. He didn’t have time to waste. He wasn’t willing to give up on the money yet. He shoved the phone into his back pocket. He’d have to do it himself until, or unless, he found someone who was better. In the meantime, he was on his own, and he had less time than he’d anticipated.

His left leg ached from the cold and from having to scrunch into a cramped position for too long. The leg had plagued him since he was a child. It had been the result of what everyone had called an accident. He’d always known that it was no accident. Nothing that happened to him was accidental. The world was against him and always had been.

He rubbed his free hand along his calf as if that slight movement would dispel the bone-deep ache. His cousin needed to die, and he needed to do it soon. And if that meant he took out others with him, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting this job done and getting back to Morocco as soon as possible.

Chapter Four

Zafir grabbed his keys, his go-bag and an extra magazine for his Glock and headed out the door. He hadn’t expected to back anyone up. But every agent in the Wyoming office was busy and already assigned to a case. So there was no choice. He’d be stepping into the role of backup to Jade’s lead. It was an exceptional situation, but it was also policy. He and Emir had hammered out the guidelines for Nassar Security a little less than a decade ago. Those guidelines had always included the brothers’ full involvement. Action was what they loved. They’d vowed never to have that love drowned because of leadership duties and responsibility. They’d promised they’d be in the field whenever possible. Unfortunately, “whenever possible” had too often given way to days of tiring office duties. He was more than ready to move into action.

His hand brushed the gun. The solid feel of it seemed to connect with his hand in a way that was more an extension of him than the tool that it was. There was nothing more exciting than a new gun. Not even a glimpse of a spectacular woman or the chance to caress the sleek lines of the latest woman could compare—it was how he rolled. He didn’t expect any of that would ever change.

Romance was short-term fun and long-term trouble. He’d grown up with parents in a loving marriage. Yet no matter how much he liked his future sister-in-law, Kate, he recoiled at the thought of his brother Emir marrying her. In case after case, he’d seen what jealousy and anger could do. Marriage and long-term relationships could be the perfect breeding ground for both those emotions. He wanted none of it, and he’d told himself that a long time ago.

He started the rental Nissan Pathfinder and was about to pop it into Reverse when his phone beeped. His hand dropped from the gearshift and he reached for it. Only a few numbers weren’t screened out. He had two admin assistants to handle those calls that he didn’t answer.

Emir’s name showed on the screen. It wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t uncommon for his twin to connect like this—unexpectedly. And as always, instinct had told him who it was before the first beep had finished.

“Yeah,” he said, knowing he sounded rushed and hurried. This was a call he knew he couldn’t miss, and even knowing that, the delay grated on him. Something was up; Emir wouldn’t have phoned otherwise. His twin didn’t phone for social chats—never had, especially now, when their agency was overwhelmed and understaffed. It was something they’d have to address soon. His grip on the phone tightened.

“What’s going on, Em?” he asked, trying to keep the edge from his voice. He knew that whatever information Emir had, it was going to put an additional crimp in his day.

“The code on your latest case just flipped to red,” Emir said. Red meant that either the client’s life was in imminent danger or there was a threat to an agent.

“I could have told you that five minutes ago,” Zafir said, and his lips tightened. He didn’t have a lot of time.

“What happened?” Emir asked.

“There were shots fired at the apartment we rented for the client. It’s under control now. Jade held them off. Just one shooter that we know of. We’re getting the client out of the area. Jade’s waiting for me now.” He dropped his hand from the steering wheel and rolled down the window an inch. A spatter of fresh snow hit his face. It was oddly calming. He loved the smell of fresh snow, but he was more anxious to get moving and make sure everything was secure.

“There’s more to this than we were led to believe,” Emir said. “It’s making me uneasy.”

The tension since he’d first answered the call retreated. He and Emir, as usual, were on the same page. But it had been the sudden change in status that he knew had really set him on edge. Moving into action always smoothed things over. “I’m at loose ends so I’ll back Jade on this. What else do you have?”

“An explosion on an estate near Rabat belonging to your client’s uncle.” He paused. “The explosion was intentional. It was a homemade explosive device and it killed one of the estate’s employees.”

“Any idea who...”

“Of the bomber, nothing,” Emir cut him off. “We believe he was acting alone. There was nothing left near the scene to even get a fingerprint. But even if there were,” he mused, “whoever did it would have to have a criminal record for them to be of any use. One thing to consider, the uncle is old and very wealthy. I’d start digging into the details of that, but I’m buried in a case we have going here.”

“I heard,” Zafir said. “We’re shorthanded with Faisal on the East Coast, and there’s five other cases on the active roster. But we’ll get it done. We always do.”

He disconnected the call and looked at his watch. He debated getting in touch with Jade. Was the new information something that would change things for her in the next few minutes? He doubted that it would. But things could also change on a dime.

* * *

WITHOUT BACKUP, THE only thing Jade could do was keep Stanley safe and wait for Zafir to arrive. But one agent couldn’t be in two places at once. They needed to get their client to a safe place. That was the priority.

She looked at her watch. They had to get moving and to find out who was after Stanley, and why.

She did a final sweep of the area. The street was silent. It had been like that for the last few minutes. She needed to make sure Stanley was safe. She stepped back into the apartment. She had to secure both him and the apartment before she went out and scouted a wider area. It was clear they needed to move him and for that they had to find a safe place. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to protect him in whatever safe house was decided.

But when she stepped past the patio doors, the silence was heavy. She took a deep breath, trying to control her over-stressed breathing. The apartment was ominously silent except for the clock measuring off time; the steady beat made her want to yank it from the wall and chuck it over the balcony.

“Stanley!” Her gun was in both hands, aimed—ready. She took one step, moving left, her arms moving with her body, keeping the gun in front, ready. There was nothing to be ready for. The apartment was empty, and all that she could think was that it wasn’t possible. She’d protected him, held off the sniper and made him safe, and now Stanley should be here waiting for her. As she moved through the small apartment she became more tense. It was clear that Stanley was gone, even his luggage was missing.

Outside a car door slammed.

She ran to the balcony, gripping the cold cement as she looked over the railing. The street was dreary, falling snow the only movement. She went to the other side, to the edge of the balcony that hugged the perimeter of the building. There, she could see into the parking lot and also see that the stall that her rental van had occupied was empty.

“Unbelievable,” she said through clenched teeth. “Un-frickin-believable,” she muttered. Nothing like this had ever happened to her. Until now, she could never have imagined it happening. So far she’d had a stellar, if short, career with Nassar—until now.

What had gone wrong?

How had this happened?

She’d handled the attack on the balcony smoothly only to lose the client. This didn’t sit well with her, and it wasn’t going to sit well with the agency. But it wasn’t the agency she was thinking of, but rather the sinfully good-looking Zafir. She gritted her teeth. Instead of impressing him, which would up her chances of success and status with the company, she looked like amateur hour.

“Damn, Stanley,” she gritted. “You’re not making it easy to like you.”

Chapter Five

Jade headed out the door without a backwards glance. The apartment door banged behind her. She never checked if it was locked or not. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be back.

Irrelevant.

They needed to get moving. She had to brief Zafir. They needed to get wheels on the road and find Stanley.

As she stepped back into the parking lot ten minutes later, Zafir pulled up in an arctic-blue Pathfinder. Top of the line. She wouldn’t have expected less. The metallic paint gleamed in the dull light. She’d had to wait for him, but she hadn’t wasted any of that time. She’d gathered what evidence she could in the ten minutes it took Zafir to get here.

What she knew was that Stanley had been in a hurry. The evidence of that was a cover for one of his precious camera lenses, lying where the van had been parked. He was frightened, panicked even, but considering what had happened, she couldn’t fault him. She ran the lens cover between her fingers.

Zafir stepped out.

“Stanley’s gone,” Jade said grimly.

He closed the driver’s door. His gaze never left her face, and his eyes told her what he didn’t. That he was waiting for her to fill him in.

“He took off while I was securing the balcony. No more than fifteen minutes ago.” There was no sugarcoating the information. There was just getting it out and getting moving. “Took everything but his camera lens with him.” She held it up with a look of irony. “He’ll miss that.” She stuffed it into her pocket.

“I don’t believe this,” Zafir said. A dark brow arched and his chiseled lips were flat, disapproving, as if this had all been her fault. “Foul play?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

Silence beat between them, and with it, so many implications. Had she watched him closer, would this still have happened? Had she kept the keys for the van out of his reach, had she...

She met Zafir’s troubled gaze. “There was no sign of scuffle. In fact, only one set of footsteps in the snow, and those are disappearing fast.” She wiped snowflakes from her brow with the back of an ungloved hand. “Tire tracks indicate he was heading west. They disappeared within fifty feet of his first turn.”

Jade glanced to the street as if the van would miraculously appear. But there was nothing, no worn white van. If they didn’t find him quickly, it would be too late. She knew that as surely as she knew that she’d had cereal for breakfast. Her stomach grumbled.

Her body was obviously not on the same page as her head. Now—there was no time for food. They had to get moving.

“I was on the balcony. He was in the apartment, or so I thought. He took the van while I was securing the area.” She brushed a strand of hair off her face.

“He couldn’t have gone far. There wasn’t enough time,” Zafir said. There was no inflection in his voice. There was no judgment, either. Somehow that made it all worse.

“You’re right, and there’s a chance he might return on his own. He’s more than likely only frightened and has taken off to get away. Maybe he’s thinking of taking some photographs. An hour or two in the countryside to calm his nerves.” She shook her head. “Not going to happen,” she said.

“It already has,” he said, his lips compressed.

Now she could see the disapproval in his eyes.

She ignored that. It was true. Stanley had disappeared on her watch. But it was also true that she’d get him back, and then they’d move on to the next step, securing Stanley in another location. “Look, he’s familiar with me. I can take your Pathfinder and retrieve him. You stay here in case he returns.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We’ll go after him. Together.”

“We?” Dread dropped into the pit of her stomach. That hadn’t been what she planned even when she’d reported the code red. Somehow, she’d thought that she’d continue on in the case. Alone. That she’d keep Zafir informed as it progressed. That he’d assign another agent as backup.

“There’s no one else available,” he said as if reading her mind. There was a hard inflection in his voice that clearly told her this was nonnegotiable.

She took a breath. She was on edge, and it wasn’t the situation. Zafir on paper was intimidating enough but in reality, even more so. She’d admired him for too long. Now she was scared that he was the one man who had the ability to pull her off her game. She took a deep breath. There were more important things to think of than her admiration for one of her employers.

She had to remember who he really was. He was a man like any other despite his legendary status with Nassar. She struggled with that, with staying focused on the job and not on him. But to her he was like no ordinary man. The cases he’d closed amazed her. She’d been in awe of what he had done, what he had faced and how he’d succeeded. She had to bring her adoration down to earth. Working with him had to be like working with any other man. She had no idea how to make that happen.

She took a breath and felt his dark eyes on her; the passion and intelligence in them was hot and commanding. She turned away. This was no time for such thoughts, and yet she had to allow them before she could discard them.

She had to remember that he was a womanizer, if office rumors were to be believed. For even now, he was looking at her with more heat than one would look at someone who was only a business partner. Worse, she wasn’t immune.

Darn him, she thought.

* * *

“WHAT’S YOUR TAKE on Stanley?” His eyes drilled into hers and he knew that he probably seemed focused on her response like it was all that he had on his mind. He knew that it was all he should have on his mind. He needed to get his head in the game, for he found everything about Jade to be distracting. Her photograph, as he’d thought earlier, on first meeting her, hadn’t done her justice. A photograph couldn’t reveal biting intelligence or a body that was meant for...

Outrageous, his internal monitor roared at him. She was a gorgeous woman but more important, she was a business associate. The reminder wasn’t much help.

His eyes went to her face. That was a safe place to remain except for the fact that her eyes—her eyes were hypnotic, and her lips... She was muddying the waters of his normally clear mind worse than a sandstorm in the Sahara.

“He didn’t seem to know how to act with a woman. I mean, he acted rather like a starstruck teenage boy rather than the middle-aged man he is. It was rather strange. Manageable, but strange.” She looked at him and then followed everything she had said with a contradiction. “At least it was manageable, until now. I can’t believe he’s gone. I would never have expected that of him. He didn’t appear to have that much initiative.”

“He’s frightened. Fear causes unexpected reactions.” He felt nothing but empathy for the missing Stanley. He was probably intimidated by Jade’s presence and likely knocked off his feet by her beauty. He bet that their client had been a mess before one shot had been fired.

He looked at Jade. Questions hung between them as well as the recently obtained intel that he needed to share. The rest of what happened, the explosion in Rabat, had the potential to impact this case. But it was information that would have to wait. First they needed to find Stanley. Then he’d tell Jade, and they could make some sense of it. He hadn’t begun to analyze it himself. At this point, he had no idea if it impacted Stanley’s presence here in the States or their ability to keep him safe.

“I should have remembered that. Fear,” she repeated softly. “If I had, I might have prevented him from running,” she said. “I should have checked on him before...”

“You didn’t have time,” he interrupted. “You were handling a potential assassin, which, by the way, was exceptional work.”

“He got away.”

“He didn’t kill Stanley,” he said. “That was your doing.” He paused and scanned the street, which was empty, deserted as if the storm had confined everyone to their homes. “Was there a reason for anyone to try to take you out?” He was pretty sure of the answer to that even as he asked it, but he needed her to verify it.

“None,” she said. “The shots stopped soon after I got Stanley out of sight.”

“The threat was assessed wrong from the beginning,” he said with a scowl, hating to admit any of that. He was on his phone punching numbers even as he talked. But that was how he ran things. His siblings joked about his ability to take multitasking to the next level.

“I’ve already called the rental agency,” she said. “I mean, if that’s what you’re doing.” Aggravation was thick in her voice. “They’re activating the location device on the vehicle so that I’ll have access.”

Another sign that none of the glowing praise of her abilities had been wrong. The client had slipped away, but he was sure from the evidence presented, and what he knew of Jade, that it was through no fault of hers. His gut told him that nothing short of tying him down could have prevented it. But instead of telling her that, he scowled at her. Then he asked in a voice that would have suited any interrogation room, “You’re sure he’s planning to leave town?”

She nodded. “He’s seriously into photography. As we knew from the file. But what we didn’t know is how passionate he is. I don’t think anything would stop him from taking the landscape pictures he came for. He’s already made that clear. Add to the fact that he had a frightening experience, and that experience was in the city.” She paused. “I suppose terrifying for someone unused to guns. He’s comfortable in the countryside. He spends a lot of time there in Morocco.”