Absolution (30 page)

Bowing her head, she sent up one last prayer for Luke’s protection before rising. She felt lighter, as though some invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She breathed deeper and easier than she had in a long time.

Leaving the church, she walked the short distance over to the mosque, paying careful attention to what the other people did. Everyone seemed to be leaving. She must have just missed afternoon prayers. She didn’t see anyone going inside, so she waited until the crowd thinned out.

Remembering the guard’s words, Emily lifted the ruby velvet scarf and covered her wig, carefully tucking the hair inside it before tying the ends under her chin. Beneath her coat she wore a long-sleeved turtleneck and dark jeans, so she was modestly covered. Approaching the entrance hesitantly, she stopped in the foyer and took off her shoes, glancing around. A large fountain graced the center of the room, but since she wasn’t sure what protocol she was supposed to follow, she didn’t dip her hands in the water. The last thing she wanted was to offend anyone.

A white-bearded man saw her as he appeared from another room and approached, making eye contact. She put on a smile and waited until he came close enough that he could hear her lowered voice.

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“May I go in?” she asked.

A pleased smile broke over his grizzled features, and he bent a little at the waist, holding a hand out to an inner doorway. “Please.” She followed behind him at a respectful distance. “Is this your first visit to a mosque?”

“Yes.”

“You are American.”

“Yes.” Which likely didn’t raise his opinion of her any, but he seemed friendly enough.

“In here,” he gestured, indicating an open prayer hall. Its rows of carpets were broken only by ornate white pillars that anchored floor and ceiling. A metaphor for prayer uniting heaven and earth?

Beautiful. As was the reverent hush that filled the cavernous room. “You may stay at the back,” her guide instructed in a whisper, “away from the men.

Be mindful not to walk in front of someone that is praying, out of respect.”

She nodded. When he left her, she gazed around with a building ache in her chest. From what she’d read about Islam, it was a beautiful, gentle religion.

Emphasizing charity and tolerance. The mosque fit with that image.

The radicalism Luke and his team faced did not.

Every religion had its dark side, she wasn’t stupid or naive enough to believe otherwise. But how could men twist the teachings of God until they actually believed they would go to paradise for killing innocent people? How could they wage what they considered a holy war, looking for any excuse to blow up those they regarded as “unbelievers”? She’d never understand it.

But that’s not what she’d come here to think about. God was God. She wanted to kneel here and pray for Luke, showing Him the fight Luke waged was not a crusade to crush Islam. It was about doing what was right and defending the world from those 244

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who would do harm in His name. No matter what faith they practiced.

Moving quietly, she slipped along the back wall to find some privacy, stopping when she spotted a man in white robes kneeling off to the left facing an embellished wall, his forehead touching the carpet as he prayed. Walking away from him, she picked a spot and knelt down on the prayer carpet. The nap was soft and worn from age, a bit threadbare in spots, clear marks upon it from countless knees, hands and foreheads touching it. Closing her eyes, Emily laid her palms on her thighs and bent her head, clearing her mind of everything but her prayer to keep Luke safe from harm.

When she was done, a feeling of peace filled her, like a warm weight in her heart. It brought a smile to her lips and made her eyes sting. Had her efforts been enough? She’d do anything to protect Luke. But there was nothing more she could do for him, and the cell phone remained still in her pocket.

He’ll call. Stop worrying.

No he wouldn’t. She knew better.

Exhaling deeply, she rose and brushed off her knees. Raising her head, she caught the man over by the wall turn to look at her over his shoulder. Her heart skipped. Had she disturbed him? Done something wrong?

She would have lowered her eyes and walked away, but something about him was familiar. He was young, maybe in his early thirties, with light skin and a neatly trimmed mink-brown beard. His shoulders were broad, the robes merely hinting at the muscular build he appeared to have. He watched her with an unnerving stillness. Unblinking. Alert, as though waiting for something.

She took a step backward, instinctively touching the medallion that hung around her neck. His gaze followed her hand, and even from where she stood 245

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she saw the sudden tension grip him.

When he raised his eyes their gazes collided.

Her pulse beat frantically in her neck. This didn’t feel right. She should leave.

Taking another step back to do exactly that, she started when he surged to his feet, staring at her with an eerie focus. Like he was a hunter and she was his prey.

Run
.

She stumbled, bracing herself against the wall to steady her feet and threw a frantic glance back at him over her shoulder. He came toward her, his expression full of intent. But when she caught the brilliant green eyes staring back at her, the air exploded from her lungs in a gasp of startled recognition.

Tehrazzi
.

Whirling on her heel, she ran.

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Chapter Fifteen

Luke hefted his heavy ruck higher onto his back and headed toward the C-130 waiting on the tarmac.

In the cockpit the pilots were well into their pre-flight checklist. Rhys strode beside him, his long legs eating up the distance.

“How long until Dec and his boys get here?” he asked.

Luke checked his watch. “Another forty minutes maybe. Could be less.” All he knew was, the instant that bird took off, he would be out for the entire flight. Wouldn’t get much sleep in the coming weeks, and he intended to get what he could on the trip to Bagram.

He’d only slept in a few ten minute snatches last night. He hadn’t been willing to lose what little time he’d had to hold Emily against him. It shook him up, how much he was still in love with her. More than ever, if that was possible. Making love to her last night had been the most intense, shattering experience of his life. No matter what happened after today, she owned him, body and soul. If he got Tehrazzi and lived to tell about it, he was never leaving her side again.

He didn’t want to think about what awaited him in Afghanistan. Dwelling on it would only depress the hell out of him. But his mind wouldn’t shut off.

His life with Tehrazzi had finally come full circle. He was going back to the place where it had all begun for them, just like the hand-written note had said. In the mountains where he’d taken that gangly, pissed-off kid and inadvertently turned him into one of the 247

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greatest threats that existed to western civilization.

The man that had learned enough from his teacher to avoid capture by the most powerful agencies in the world these past six years.

But no more. Tehrazzi’s days of threats and terror were all but over.

Luke would get the bastard this time, or die trying.

Nearing the aircraft, his cell vibrated against his hip. Stopping, he shrugged off the ruck to check the display and answer it. “Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

Please don’t let her say something’s wrong with
Emily.

“I left Ben a voicemail hours ago. Didn’t he give you the message?”

He frowned. “No, what was it?”

“Emily wants you to call her.”

Luke looked down at his steel-toed assault boots. He’d been dreading that request. He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep, and he didn’t want to hurt her anymore. It would tear him apart to hear her on the other end of the phone right now, even if she didn’t cry. Because he wasn’t sure what he could tell her to make it any easier. That’s why he’d left without saying anything. “Okay. Is she there?”

“No, she’s out, but—”

He stiffened. “Out? What the hell do you mean,
out
?”

Sam sighed. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. She wanted to get out for a while, so Bryn had one of the security guards drive her into the city.”

“What the hell for?” She wasn’t well enough to go shopping, for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t think of a single other reason why she’d want to go into Beirut.

When he’d left her curled up in his bed that morning, she’d been dead asleep, hadn’t so much as stirred when he’d kissed her cheek and put the chain 248

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around her neck.

Still, he felt like a bastard for not being honest with her. And for sneaking out before she woke up because he was too much of a coward to watch her face crumple when she found out he was leaving.

“She said she was going to light a candle for you.”

He closed his eyes.
Ah, damn, Em...
Barbs pricked at his heart. He couldn’t believe she still did that for him. Rubbing his tired eyes, he sighed.

“Please tell me she’s got a phone with her.”

“I gave her mine, and the number’s already programmed into yours. I’ve got her on GPS now, but as far as I can tell she’s inside a mosque.”

“A mosque?”

“Yeah, it’s the big one right next to a church downtown. Know it?”

He did. Knowing Em, she’d gone into both places to plead her case for his soul with God and Allah, on the off chance either one of them would intercede on his behalf. Maybe she knew he could use all the help he could get. “I’ll call her,” he promised.

Hanging up, he took a deep breath and found Sam’s cell number in the menu. There wasn’t a damn thing he could say that would make this any easier on Emily, but he was willing to try. She at least deserved to hear him say why he hadn’t told her he was leaving. And she deserved to hear that he loved her. Apart from that, there was dick all he could give her until this thing ended.

****

Her perfume gave her away. Nothing ever disturbed him when he was in prayer, but that light note of vanilla in the air had alerted him a woman was nearby. The tingling between his shoulder blades had made him glance behind him once he was finished. He might have only frowned in disapproval had he not seen her grab the pendant around her 249

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neck. Then her face became clear to him, as did the significance of the jewelry she wore. He’d recognize it anywhere.

His teacher’s cherished medallion.

Tehrazzi took a step toward her, his heart thudding hard against his ribs. Her eyes were green, almost the same shade as his, and they widened in apprehension. He could not believe she was standing there.

She had willingly entered Allah’s house.

Because Allah had brought her to him.

Triumph soared through his blood. Everything was clear to him now. This was the way it was meant to happen. She was the instrument with which Allah wanted to draw his teacher to his death.

He knew the instant she realized who he was.

Her face went utterly white, her nostrils flaring as she gasped. She spun to flee, but he followed. Not at a run, for it would be disrespectful to cause a scene in the musalla.

Near the door she bent to snatch up her shoes, casting a quick glance over her shoulder as she ran.

He came closer and she fled, running into the courtyard. The blood red scarf she wore over her hair made her easy to follow in the crowd. He raised a hand to signal two of his men, and they intercepted her. She got out one tiny shriek before one of them clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her quickly toward the waiting vehicle.

His blood raced through his veins. The surge of triumph was harder and more potent than a hit of heroin. The end was finally here. He was ready.

****

Emily tossed her head and screamed beneath the meaty hand covering her mouth. Two men had her in a tight grip, and practically carried her as they rushed away from the street to an alley. Hadn’t anyone seen her? She kicked and struggled. She 250

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managed to knock one of them in the face with her elbow, hard enough that he grunted and loosened his grip. She jerked away and whirled, pulling to escape the other man’s hold as she grabbed for the phone in her pocket. The number two, Sam had told her. She had to press and hold the number two. Yanking it out, she clamped her thumb onto the button and held it down.

A split second later Tehrazzi was upon her, knocking it out of her hand with one swipe of his arm. It clattered to the cobbled street. Enraged, she rammed an elbow into her captor’s stomach. “Let me
go
!” Another hand clamped down over her mouth, staying there no matter how hard she thrashed her head back and forth. Had she held the button long enough? Maybe the signal was transmitting right now. When she didn’t answer, Sam would know something was up. But then Tehrazzi walked over and smashed the phone under his booted heel, shattering it on the stones. He twisted his foot for good measure, the sound of grinding plastic and electronic components loud in the empty alley.

Fear threatened to choke her as he approached again, his eyes holding an unearthly glow. If Sam hadn’t received a call, then no one would know she was missing. She would die by Tehrazzi’s hand.

Someone shouted behind them.

Emily wrenched against the arms holding her and caught a glimpse of her driver running flat out toward them, a weapon raised in one hand. He fired once. She flinched and screamed louder beneath the hand, fighting with all she had to get free. But then Tehrazzi’s other man pulled out his pistol and fired twice. She jumped at the muted pop of the silencer and cried out when the guard crumpled, two bloody wounds blooming on his chest. His hands grabbed at his shirt as though he couldn’t believe he’d been hit.

His eyes bulged and his back arched upward, fingers 251

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clawing at his throat for air. Scarlet froth bubbled up from the holes in his ruined lungs and gushed out his mouth and nose.