Absolution (32 page)

She dug her small feet into the ground to slow them down, and he forced down his irritation. He understood her fear, but there was no help for it.

“The faster you move, the faster this will be over.”

“Screw you,” she snapped, flinging her head back to bash him and he narrowly got his jaw out of the way.

Her outrage radiated off her in waves, so strong he could practically see them, like flashes of red fire.

“I won’t help you hurt him. I’ll die first!”

Her courage impressed him nearly as much as her fierce loyalty did. Few people had that quality.

Loyalty was as rare as it was precious. At one time, he’d been as loyal to his teacher as the woman was.

At one time, Tehrazzi would have killed for him.

Died for him without hesitation. He shook the memories away.

“Let me go!” She lashed out at him with her foot, but he ignored the shot. She was breathing hard, and not solely from fear. She was tiring rapidly.

Weakened from either the disease attacking her body or the treatment of it. A hint of guilt crept in.

He was uncomfortable harming an innocent woman.

But what other choice did he have?

“Be quiet or I’ll gag you,” he warned, shifting his grip on her wrists. She continued struggling, gasping now, her increased body heat rising up through her clothing. “And stop fighting before you hurt 261

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yourself.”

With a snarl, she whipped her head around to bite his shoulder.

“Enough,” he barked, pulling out his pistol and pressing it to the small of her back. She stilled instantly, freezing in place. When he forced her to keep walking, her movements turned stiff and jerky.

“Why were you at the mosque?” He needed to know.

At first she wouldn’t answer him, but he gave her a tug and she looked up at him with pure venom in her eyes. “I was praying for someone.”

“Your husband.”

“Ex-husband,” she said through gritted teeth.

Semantics. The medallion told him the real story between her and his teacher. They might be divorced, but she still cared enough to pray for him.

And she’d gone to the mosque to ask for Allah’s help.

Had removed her shoes, covered her hair and knelt quietly at the back of the musalla. Respectful of Islam, though she was a Christian. So much like his teacher.

“I want to know why,” she suddenly demanded in a half-whisper.

“Why what?” he answered, stopping to make sure the next alley was deserted before pushing her onward.

“How could you do this? You’re a man of God.”

“I am a
soldier
of God,” he corrected coldly. “And I take my responsibilities very seriously.” Unlike others he knew.

“Damn you, stop dragging me,” she snarled, struggling insistently though she must have known how futile it was. “Why Luke?”

His stomach seized at the name. He hated hearing it. Was it possible she didn’t know? Perhaps, since his teacher had left her before meeting him in Afghanistan. “We have a shared history.”

“
Why
?” Her voice was filled with such pain, such 262

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sorrow, it made his skin prickle.

“Because he betrayed me,” Tehrazzi said in a low rasp. “He abandoned me, the same as he did you.” And that made them kindred spirits of sorts, didn’t it? How odd the workings of Allah were.

She inhaled sharply at his words, and again her pain radiated out to him. Jagged and fresh.

“Don’t...don’t hurt him anymore. He’s suffered too.”

His jaw tensed. He was not interested in his teacher’s so-called suffering. Anger rose hard within him. His teacher had been a fully grown man when the anti-Communist jihad ended. Tehrazzi had been a scrawny teenager left in the desolate mountains of his ancestors when the Americans suddenly withdrew their support for Afghanistan. Leaving him abandoned by the man who’d been the closest thing to a father he’d ever known.

He thought of the trigger switch hidden in his left coat pocket. His heart responded with a desperate throb. The mortal body, weak and fearful.

But not his soul. He was a soldier of Allah, and devoted to His cause. All Tehrazzi had to do was take his hostage to a more secure location and arrange plans for him and his teacher to meet one last time. But time was running short. Someone must have noticed the woman missing by now. His teacher would be alerted. If Tehrazzi was lucky, his teacher would be heading back to Afghanistan. That would give him time to find a better position and plan his final strategy.

The briny scent of the water grew stronger as he wound them through to the waterfront. The cry of gulls increased. His hostage was stiff but unresisting in front of him, the muzzle of his SIG pressed against her spine. They emerged between two industrial buildings near a small fishing dock, a place he knew would be all but deserted this time of night. He needed a boat. A fast one. And he needed 263

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time to think. He could almost feel those intense, dark eyes watching him right now from the shadows.

His teacher would come. Tehrazzi didn’t question that for a moment. The woman would ensure it. The chain around her neck guaranteed it.

He needed to be ready.

Her feet slipped as he pushed her onto the dock, the surface slick with the mist rising off the surface of the gray-green water. She shook her head, the ends of her hair whipping in the cold breeze. “N-no,”

she gasped when she realized his intent.

He ignored her and pressed on, heading for the end where a fleet of fishing boats and pleasure craft bobbed in the tide. Voices came from behind him. He whipped around, cutting off the woman’s gasp with his free hand, and stared through the film of fog toward the street. He relaxed. Merely some fishermen, heading home for the evening.

The prickle between his shoulder blades didn’t let up. He felt as though someone had him in the crosshairs of a sniper rifle. Was his teacher already here?

Tehrazzi searched the darkened rows of shops and offices at the far end of the dock. Nothing moved. No lights, no reflections of a camera or binocular lenses.

He took two steps backward, scanning warily before turning her and propelling her for the boats.

You’re not ready.

The whisper in his head sent a bolt of fear through him. Sweat popped out on his upper lip and beneath his arms. Doubts crowded in. He wasn’t prepared for this. He’d never expected to have the woman dropped into his hands, nor to have to face his teacher so soon. His fingers itched to grab the switch in his pocket. If his teacher was here, that and the woman he held were the only things capable of buying him time to escape and regroup. He had to 264

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plan this carefully. It had to end up with just him and his teacher. No one else.

More voices floated toward him. Disjointed because of the fog obscuring the speakers. Every muscle in Tehrazzi’s body went tight as a cable. He listened intently, trying to ascertain the source of the words. Then he heard it, and his belly drew up hard.

“...reported seeing them...moving toward docks...”

English. The hair on his nape stood on end. He shot a fervent glance behind him. The boat he wanted was a short sprint away. So close. He could still make it.

The muscles in his thighs twitched, ready to run. Then the woman gasped and stiffened in his hold. A shiver of foreboding snaked up his backbone.

“Don’t move,” a deep voice warned in Arabic.

Tehrazzi turned his eyes to the end of the dock.

He knew that voice.

Out of the fog, two men emerged armed with assault rifles. One was huge, almost a head taller than the other.

The shorter one moved closer, his movements practiced and stealthy. Expert in their precision. The man moved another step closer, then another.

Tehrazzi edged backward. Were there snipers already in position waiting to take him out?

Fear rose up hard and fast, threatening to choke him. He brought the pistol up and locked his forearm around his hostage’s throat, then grabbed the device from his left pocket with his other hand. “Don’t move or I’ll blow it,” he replied.

Through the fog, the man’s face came into view.

Unmistakable dark eyes stared back at him, the intense hatred in them threatening to make his knees shake.

His teacher had come for him at last.

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Emily grabbed at the thick forearm cutting into her windpipe and dug her nails into his skin, rising on tiptoe to keep from choking. Tehrazzi was frozen in place behind her, his muscular body rigid as the men approached. He grabbed something from his pocket and raised it, then growled some sort of warning. The approaching footsteps stopped.

Her eyes went to his hand next to her head.

What was he holding? Another gun? Unable to move her head, she strained to see it in her peripheral vision. Not a gun. Something small. His thumb was pressed on the top of it. A trigger of some kind?

He jerked her backward, cutting off her air for a moment. Beneath his sweater she felt the hard lines of the vest he wore and the truth froze the blood in her veins.

He had some sort of suicide vest on him, and was holding the switch for the detonator. If he let go... Fear paralyzed her. She shook with the effort of holding still, taking shallow breaths so she wouldn’t jostle him. Afraid to move her head, she turned her eyes to stare through the fog toward the men before them. Was it the police? The military? Were they going to be able to save her?

Then their faces appeared through the thin veil of fog. A broken gasp tore out of her. “Luke!” His name wrenched from her throat as her heart leapt in relief, then in stark fear. Tehrazzi would kill them all. “No, stay back! He’s got—”

Tehrazzi clamped his arm tighter around her 266

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throat, cutting off the words and her air. She clawed and gasped. Any second now he’d release his hold on the trigger of the vest and detonate it. Luke and Rhys were close enough that the blast would kill them too. The bitter, metallic taste of fear filled her dry mouth. She stared into Luke’s fathomless eyes, pleading for some sign of what he wanted her to do.

He didn’t move a muscle, his gaze locked on Tehrazzi, rifle raised and aimed. He said something to him in what must be Arabic, his deep voice eerily calm in the stillness. Tehrazzi replied, inching her backward with him toward the row of boats behind them. Her legs were stiff and unresponsive as he dragged her with one arm. She was too afraid to move.

I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die...

A hot wash of tears scalded her eyes. God couldn’t let this happen. They’d all been through too much. She had no idea what they were saying to each other, but beneath the words she picked up the low timbre of Rhys’s voice speaking English. She hoped he was calling for help.

Tehrazzi hauled her back another few feet, the muscles in his forearm like tempered steel beneath her grasping fingers. She kept waiting for a shot to ring out, was braced for it until she realized they couldn’t shoot him without setting off the explosives.

Tehrazzi had tied Luke’s hands as much as he’d tied hers. The only way Luke could kill Tehrazzi was if he was willing to sacrifice them all to do it.

“Stay still, Em.”

His low voice brought a fresh rush of tears. She gulped, the motion painful against Tehrazzi’s iron hold on her throat. She wouldn’t dare move any more than he was making her. He was still walking backward, away from Luke and Rhys, and they weren’t moving. Were they waiting until she and Tehrazzi put them out of range of the vest before 267

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shooting? Her stomach dropped as she finally understood what was happening.

Tehrazzi was a high value target. Important enough that he warranted Luke and his team hunting him down to the ends of the earth. She didn’t even register on that value scale. Luke couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. He had to kill him. Even if Tehrazzi took her life in the process.

Even if it would kill Luke to lose her this way.

Nothing mattered but getting Tehrazzi.

As she stared back into Luke’s dark eyes, a tear slipped over her cheek. She understood, but the thought of dying here and now terrified her.
I
understand
, she told him silently, helpless to do anything, let alone ease the burden for him. Her legs began to quiver. They trembled until the weakness spread throughout her body and made her teeth clatter. The muscles in her face felt stiff, like hardened wax. Another convulsive swallow rippled through her constricted throat. Would it hurt? She thought of the blast wave. She was right up against him. The force of the explosion would rupture her organs and tear her flesh. She trembled. The heat would burn her. Would she feel any of it? It would happen so fast, but...what if it didn’t kill her instantly? Another tear fell.

Oh God, Luke.
She wasn’t brave enough to face this. She wanted to close her eyes and retreat somewhere in her head, but she couldn’t let go of Luke’s stare. She loved him so much. She didn’t want him to die too.
Oh God, I’m so scared…

Thoughts raced through her panicked brain. She was dying anyway. Even if she’d never stumbled upon Tehrazzi in the mosque the cancer would have eaten her from the inside out. She would have died a slow, agonizing death, just like her mother. At least this would be fast. Little, if any suffering.

The sound of water lapping against hulls grew 268

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louder as they reached the edge of the dock. Neither Luke nor Rhys had moved yet. And they weren’t going to.

Luke said something else to Tehrazzi that she couldn’t understand, his tone low and full of buried rage. Tehrazzi ignored him, pulling her backward.

She was his only insurance. If she hadn’t been standing in the way, she knew without a doubt Luke would have taken the killing shot despite the blast radius of the vest killing him too. Tehrazzi needed her to make his escape work. And Luke...

She sucked in a quick breath.
What if he didn’t
have to die to get Tehrazzi
?

Tehrazzi wanted on a boat. He wanted to get away. If he did, Luke would have to come after him.