Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) (18 page)

Mel sucked in a breath. So, it was true. Abdul was behind the operation to attack the embassy. A mixture of alarm and relief surged through her: alarm at knowing they shared the same space with a dangerous terrorist, and relief that within a matter of hours, she would be safely out of the desert. Mel shoved aside the covers, not waiting for the order to pack her things.

“Hakeem is going to ready the vehicle.” Ric moved to the side so she could get out of bed.

Just then, Hakeem shouted something and Mel jumped at the sound. Ric immediately drew his weapon from his back sheath and motioned for her to be quiet with a finger on his lips. There was no time for escape. Large men burst into the room, their AK-47s pointed directly at her and Ric. They communicated in Arabic, and Ric lowered his weapon. Ric cast a veiled look at her and her soul shook.

It was too late.

Abdul had won.

****

Hassan ordered Ric’s armed escort to leave the tent, which left Ric standing before Hassan alone. “Hassan—”

The sheik held up his hand. “It is my turn to speak.”

“Well, I’m waiting to hear your explanation for dragging me into your tent in the middle of the night.”

“Ric, I am not your enemy.”

“Then the armed guards were for what? My protection?”

Hassan’s eyes trailed downward to Ric’s waist. “And are you not still in possession of your weapon? I did not have them disarm you because I still trust you.”

“Forgive me, Hassan, but that trust is thinning.”

Hassan’s black eyes danced with wicked humor. “You Americans…you think you know everything.”

“No. We know freedom and we’ll die to keep it.”

“And so others may have it.”

Ric nodded. “Why have you brought me here?” Hassan poured himself a drink from a familiar skinny glass flask. “Drinking this early? The sun isn’t even up.”

Hassan chuckled softly. “I haven’t stopped drinking from last night.” He took a sip of the red wine and breathed out. “Ah. Only the best.” He took a seat on a burgundy chaise lounge. “As much as I have enjoyed our business relationship, I’m afraid it must come to an end today.”

No kidding.

“You spoke of freedom and dying. Your idealism is to be admired, but in the world in which I live, such freedom cannot be bought with blood because it doesn’t exist. No matter how much you may desire liberty, it may only ever be…a dream.”

Where’s he going with this?
Hassan was one of the most progressive thinkers in freedom and democracy who Ric had ever encountered in all his travels and associations in the Middle East. Suddenly, he was acknowledging defeat? For what? To whom?

Hassan slowly drank his wine, and the longer Ric waited for Hassan to explain his reason for bringing Ric to his tent under armed escort — not to mention this conversation — the more Ric sweated. When he was removed from his tent, Mel was left in the care of Hakeem.
Abdul is in charge of security.
Which meant he knew of Ric’s summons and that Mel was left alone with an old, yet surprisingly spry, man. Hassan droned on and on about how freedom wasn’t a choice for some and awareness of the situation hit Ric like a blow to the face.

He was in here and Mel?
Abdul…

Ric ripped the gun from behind his back. “Where is she?” Ric yelled, his hard gaze on the sheik, who didn’t flinch at Ric’s tone or the gun he had pointed at Hassan’s head.

“Ric, my friend—”

“No.” Ric took a few heavy steps forward, his voice dangerously low. “You’re keeping me distracted. You tell me where she is, right now. What does Abdul plan to do with her and Hakeem?”

Hassan’s weary eyes met Ric’s. “We all answer to someone, my friend.” His soft voice held a twinge of regret. “My station does not afford me the right to do whatever I please. I, too, must bow to forces that control me.”

Ric’s eyes narrowed on Hassan. Who was in charge if Hassan wasn’t? Ric never considered a third party pulling the strings. “What are you talking about?”

“I have family — sisters — in Pakistan and Yemen. They are married to powerful men. These men control larger fortunes than I. Their reach is longer than my own. When they want something, it is not open to negotiation.”

Ric’s impatience mounted at an alarming rate. Every second Hassan spent dragging out whatever explanation he was trying to explain at a desperately slow rate, was another second Mel might be closer to her own death — if she wasn’t already gone. Ric refused to consider the worst-case scenario, although he was trained not to operate under the assumption that everything was safe and nothing could ever go wrong in the field.

He was well aware of Hassan’s extended family members, yet, in all the years he had known Hassan, the man had kept hidden how easily he could be blackmailed. His brothers-in-law had their own businesses and fortunes. What would they need with Hassan’s?
How could I have missed this? Dios en el cielo, please…please let me get to her!

His trigger finger itched.
Talk, Hassan, or you’re dead. No excuses.
The woman he loved was in danger and he didn’t want to believe his gut because it told him Abdul had taken Melody.
Again
.

Hassan released another sigh. His face drooped into a helpless expression. “You must understand, Ric, that sometimes you cannot fight an ideology.”

Ric’s teeth gritted. He thrust the gun forward. “I don’t believe that.”

“Maybe in your country you are free to do as you please, but even I with all the money I have, I still have certain responsibilities…certain loyalties that must be obeyed.”

“Where is she?”

“I did not order the attack on the embassy.”

“I am
not
going to ask you again!”

“
Abdul
,” he said in a small voice. “He plans to kill you and the girl. I had you brought here to allow him time to get her and leave. His forces are greater than mine, Ric, but he wouldn’t risk losing the extra men.” Hassan’s dark hair was matted against his sweaty brow, and he repeatedly wiped his palms on his white robe. His wide eyes displayed dilated pupils. “It was the only way to appease him! Your life for hers.”

This was personal. It wasn’t just about attacking the embassy; it was also about beating Ric at his own game. Taking the woman he’d been protecting the past few days would force Ric to make a decision: leave Mel behind and protect the embassy, or attempt to rescue her, which was obviously a trap he wouldn’t live through. The choice was easy. Ric lowered his weapon. “Where would he take her?”

Hassan’s mouth drooped, and he looked at Ric with profound contrition, but Ric wouldn’t be fooled again. Their relationship was over. Hassan was going to walk away with his life and never see Ric again — unless Mel was already dead. Ric would have a hard time stopping himself from terminating Hassan if he couldn’t save Mel.

“Ric, it’s a trap.”

“That you set for me.”

“Who is this woman to you that she should matter so much?”

Ric raised the weapon again. This time he pointed the muzzle to the tiny spot that creased between Hassan’s brows. “Hassan, I’m giving you one last chance to answer my question.
One.
”

****

No, no, no! Why was he here? Didn’t he know this was a trap?

Mel stared hopelessly at Ric as he stopped his vehicle near the thick collection of sand dunes, yards from where Abdul and his men stood. She had been forced to her knees and had to lean to the side to see around the men who had surrounded her. The shadows of the men afforded her a bit of cover from the heat of the mid-morning sun, which scorched the earth around her. They had been out here waiting for Ric for almost an hour. She was only offered water twice and more than once she had to fight passing out.

Abdul shouted something in Arabic and Ric responded in kind. The men parted to reveal her to him. The sun’s rays beating down on her made the weight of her head feel like her neck was lifting an anvil, but she raised it anyway, if only to meet Ric’s eyes. New strength surged through her at his determined gaze. Against a group of ten armed men, he showed no fear. He was going to save her, or die trying.
What about the embassy?
He had a job to do. Wasn’t he risking failure by rescuing her?
Abdul is going to kill us both. Oh, God, I guess I’m ready to come home. Thank you for Ricardo. Thank you for letting me love again.

The sound of metal clanking reached her ears. She glanced behind her. One of the men adjusted an old Soviet-style rocket-propelled grenade launcher on his shoulder. “
Ric!
” A whooshing sound blew past her ears, and sent her to the ground. Her eyes caught a glimpse of Ric as he dove into the sand, his vehicle consumed in explosive fire. Her eardrums popped with the sounds of close gunfire. She attempted to crawl away from the group but a familiar rough hand gripped her arm and kept her pinned to the sand.

She struggled against her captor’s hold, eventually wrenching her arm free. Abdul fell to the ground and without a backwards glance, Mel took off in the opposite direction of Ric and the men.
Just keep moving!
Abdul and his men were focused on Ric. She couldn’t do anything without a weapon but get caught in the crossfire or find the nearest dune and hide. Mel chose the dune.

A loud shout and a barrage of bullets swooped in from the southeast. A rider on an older model all-terrain vehicle whooped and hollered as he continued to rain bullets on Abdul and his men from a high-powered automatic weapon. Abdul grabbed the nearest man for cover, while the others darted about in different directions as if momentarily confused.
Hakeem!
When the men took aim on Hakeem, Mel saw her opportunity and about-faced toward Ric’s charred vehicle.

****

Ric dove onto Mel and shielded her with his body. “Stay down!” Whether or not she heard him over the noises of the vehicle and the shouts of fear, he wasn’t sure, but she struggled to make herself as small as possible beneath his body. Her hands covered her ears and Ric added his own for extra protection.

The sound of gunfire grew louder as Abdul and a few others returned fire. Sand whirled around, picked up by the tires of the vehicle, and obstructed her and Ric’s view. He could only squint a second at a time; the sharp edges of the sand scraped his eyes with each attempt to open them. During a moment of vision, he saw the man shielding Abdul fall, and Abdul dart away. Ric eyed the abandoned weapon of the fallen man. He uncovered Mel’s hands and leaned in. He yelled as loudly as he could to penetrate the barrier of her hands. “Don’t move!”

She raised her head to look at him and dropped her hands from her ears. “What?” she cried, but he was already scrambling on his hands and knees to retrieve the automatic rifle. He snatched it from the lifeless hands of the man, who was rapidly being covered by the shifting sands, and cocked the weapon. He glanced about for Hakeem, who was making another pass from the north; he skidded and turned sharply in the sand. Ric aimed his weapon at an unsuspecting man and fired.

Headshot.

Engine sounds momentarily caught his attention. Ric turned to see a fleet of vehicles about a mile off, headed in their direction. “Haaakeeeemm!” Ric darted to Mel, who had shifted her gaze to the oncoming cars at the sound of his shout. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled in the sand, but he continued to pull her along in the direction of Hakeem and the vehicle. “Hakeem, we have company!”

A man raised his Beretta at Ric but was too slow to pull the trigger. Ric laid him flat with a string of bullets to the chest. Hakeem had turned the vehicle in the direction of Ric and Mel, but in doing so, deviated his focus from the threat. A couple of bullets and Hakeem fell back against the seat.

“Noooooo!” Ric turned his weapon on the shooters and held the trigger down. His arm shook from the rifle’s constant recoil, and he flexed his biceps and pectoral muscles to keep the weapon steady beneath his arm. The vehicle continued to move forward with Hakeem’s foot on the accelerator. “We have to jump!” Ric hoped Mel was attuned to what they needed to do. He moved them perpendicular to the course of the vehicle, and ducked slightly to take advantage of the distant cover of the metal ride. Mel ducked as well and wriggled out of his grasp. He shot a glance in her direction, but her focus was on the vehicle.
She’s ready.
“We’ll only get one pass!”

Bullets pinged off the side of the vehicle closest to them and Ric knew the men in the other vehicles were in range. As bullets whizzed by them, Mel and Ric took their chance and jumped, their hands extended, ready to grip whatever part of the vehicle they could. Mel made contact with part of the frame near the front seat and pulled herself into the passenger side while Ric tumbled over the carrier’s side and into the back. He ignored the pain shooting through his shins and rolled onto his stomach. “Get us out of here!” He raised the weapon over the side and fired in the direction of the nearest vehicle; he struck the driver and it violently jerked and moved into the course of the vehicle to its left. Both vehicles collided and tipped over, ejecting men into the air before they rolled onto their sides.

“Where am I going?” Mel yelled from the front seat.

“Head northwest!” Ric bounced and hitched in the carrier as he struggled to move to the front seat. He reached over and secured his forearms underneath Hakeem’s armpits. Hakeem groaned as he was repositioned to sit upright.
He’s still alive!
There was a chance. Hope faded as Ric’s hands came in contact with the front of Hakeem’s crimson-stained shirt. The blood was everywhere.
Oh, God, no! Not Hakeem!
Ric shook with anger at the sight of the bright red liquid on his hands, on Hakeem’s weapon, which he’d fallen on top of, and the front seat.

“We need to get him to a hospital!”

“There’s not time,” Ric whispered.

“What?”

He didn’t repeat the words. Instead, Ric struggled out of his jacket and his shirt. He tore his shirt into pieces and after squeezing them into tight balls, pressed the makeshift gauzes onto the two places he suspected were wounds. Hakeem’s flinching confirmed his guess. There was no telling how many gunshots Hakeem sustained, and Ric cursed only having two hands. Ric looked over his shoulder. Abdul’s group was still visible, but shrank into the sand as Mel put distance between them. They still weren’t at a safe distance to stop and assess Hakeem’s wounds. “Hang on, old friend,” Ric whispered into Hakeem’s ear. Hakeem’s dried lips twitched upward.