Anything, Anywhere, Anytime (29 page)

Hell, no. He held it together with Monica.

But still she was standing beside him with blood all over her uniform and he knew it was hers. Except he couldn't find where she was bleeding from. And if he couldn't figure out what she needed from him, then he would lose her. He would have failed again.

He didn't have much longer left. The load ramp was shutting, cranking up, almost there, soon would shut off all the light and he wouldn't be able to see where the blood was coming from. Closing. Darker.

Thunk.

Thunk . Thunk Thunk .

Jack jolted awake, Monica's legs heavy in his lap, the room dark from her blackened window.

Thunk . Thunk . Thunk .

The door. Someone was knocking on Monica's door.

Her legs stirred against him. She flung an arm over her face. "Jack?"

"Shh." His hand rested on her feet. "It's okay. Just someone at the door. Go back to sleep. I'll take care of it."

She bolted upright, jerked her feet from his lap to the floor. "For God's sake, this is my room. I'll get it."

Swiping a hank of dried-wild hair from her face, she padded to the door, cracked it open while blocking the view inside with her body. "Jesus, Rodeo. Do you know what time it is?''

"Uh, sorry to bother you, but, uh, I'm looking for Cobra."

Jack strode up behind her, rested a possessive hand on her shoulder. "This better be important, man. Your timing sucks."

"Sorry, bud." Derek winced. "I wouldn't come here unless it was serious and I figured better me than someone else. The Colonel's looking for you two. There's a...situation...with Doc's sister."

Drew didn't need to see outside the office window to feel the sandstorm brewing. The blocked window prohibited view, anyway, since being boarded up after the looting peasant incident.

And again here he stood, Yasmine on the wrong end of an OSI inquisition about her presence at the airfield.

He focused on the impending sandstorm and its implications instead. If it weren't for that damned storm due to start rolling in right around midnight, they'd be prepping to leave and finish this whole operation. He and his men never would have been out in the field last night running training maneuvers, making use of the extra time to perfect their battle plan just a little more because of the bad weather predictions.

PFC Pete Santuci would still be alive.

Which brought him right back around to Yasmine again, anyway, as she answered endless questions. When the hell had he thought about anything but her since she shoved that note in his hand?

He felt like an old fool.

Old being the operative word for a man stuck smack-dab in the center of some damned midlife crisis. She'd read him and played him right up to the moment she stared down at him with those bottomless brown eyes, her nubile, naked body fogging his brain.

Drew, I need to tell you something I have been k eeping hidden. Ammar al-Khayr sent me here to find
out the truth about your mission.

Everything inside him had shut down at that point.

He didn't remember much afterward other than that he'd hauled her up, barked at her to get dressed while he'd yanked on his own clothes. No turning his back on a woman who might knife him. No, he'd kept his back to the wall and watched her stoically drag her dress over her head.

Then he'd led her here to let Max Keagan and Daniel "Crusty'' Baker do their work because apparently his objectivity was shot to hell. She'd concocted some story about their maps of the terrorist compound being incomplete. Helpful guidance? Or a deadly trap?

Drew crunched a LifeSaver since he'd already been through every other goddamned letter in the alphabet over the past hour. Sure, she'd 'fessed up, right after she hooked then reeled him in. Did she expect to play him as her sympathy card? Think again, Sheba.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

His involvement with her already put him in a sticky-as-hell situation. From here on out, it was by the book.

Anger sparked from her eyes as she repeated answers to questions already asked. Tough shit. This was how the game was played to check her story. Let her get mad.

Or was she spitting fire to keep from crying? Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! He would not fall into that trap of hers again.

Her spine straight against her chair, regal as ever, she insisted, "I genuinely want to go to the United States.

So when he—"

"Ammar al-Khayr," Crusty Baker interjected from beside the window, his voice tight, "a known terrorist responsible for targeting Americans around the world simply because of their nationality, a man directly linked to assassinating our ambassador here."

Who also happened to be Baker's father. The interrogator had more cause for his anger than even Yasmine knew.

She paled, dark circles from her night with little sleep staining a deeper purple. "When he offered me a way into your camp, of course I said yes."

Keagan stepped in to take over the questioning from Baker, stopping by the desk. "This would have all carried more weight if you'd told us straight up."

She looked down, displaying a stretch of daisy scarf along her head. Her hands in her lap twisted around her rose scarf. Damn her. "I did not know who to trust."

"And now you do," Keagan prompted.

"I hope so." She didn't even glance Drew's way. She didn't have to. "I will tell you whatever you want to know about him if that will help your people."

"Why would we be interested in this man?"

She raked her best haughty gaze over the unconventional OSI officer's spiky hair and bright yellow polo shirt. "You must really think I am stupid."

The clock on the wall ticked. How much did she know and how had she found out?

More important, who had she told?

Keagan hitched a hip on the desk corner. "Now's the time to prove to us just how smart you are."

She pleated the scarf in her lap faster. Nerves? Or lies? "It is obvious you are here for more than dropping off food for starving locals. Ammar al-Khayr has escaped justice in the States once. I sincerely hope you are here to dispense it now so he cannot appropriate the funds of every orphan who happens to share a distant relative with the man. I am not the first he has tried this with. A simple search will tell you that. As you so eloquently put it, your own unfortunate ambassador here was assassinated. And only because the ambassador's wife was related to Ammar who wanted control over the man's wealth through his children."

She paused, frowning. "Or maybe you already know that."

That and more. Baker's father, the man's wealth and political influence was far spread and well known in the States. The very damned reason Baker and Jack Korba together had been able to land themselves on this mission.

"All I want is to get out of this country. You can listen to what I have to say or not. Your choice, Mr.

Keagan."

"What about the hostages in the compound?''

"Who?" Her fingers stilled on the silk. "Which ones? Ammar is always holding somebody. Snatching people for bargaining influence. You seem to think I am making an easy choice in telling you because you can offer me military protection. But you do not seem to realize how far his reach extends. I risk much more by talking than by staying silent."

Finally, Drew let himself ask, "Then why do it?"

She met his gaze directly for the first time since she'd sprawled naked on top of his chest. "Because I want people to look in my eyes and see honor."

Damn but she fought dirty. All the more reason to keep his guard up around her now more than ever. She knew him, had used her time wisely to find the chinks in his armor.

A knock sounded. Snipped the tension between them.

Baker swung the door wide to Monica Hyatt standing tall and pissed, Jack Korba scowling just behind her.

Both wore rumpled flight suits and barely combed hair.

Apparently, Yasmine had wrecked everyone's sleep.

Keagan closed the door behind them. "Seems we have a situation here."

Hyatt's eyes stayed locked on her sister. "So Rodeo informed us."

"Do you have anything to add, anything that might vouch for her character so we can all breathe easier today?"

That sure snapped Hyatt's attention off her sister. "You're joking, right?"

The OSI officer nodded to Jack and stepped toward a far corner of the room. "How about taking a look at the compound map."

The question of the hour. Was Yasmine's input about the layout genuine? Or a trap. Baker, Keagan and Korba huddled in a corner while Drew did his damnedest to stare at the file in front of him instead of looking at Yasmine and her rose scarf. Because then he wouldn't have to see that slight quiver on a mouth that used to smile at him.

She damned well had reason to be scared.

Hyatt walked with calm deliberate steps toward her sister, stopping. "You little bitch," she said low.

Drew kept his head down. He had to give Yasmine credit, she didn't blink, kept her regal calm and took what her sister doled out.

"How dare you use me, use all of us like that? But then I shouldn't be so surprised. You're no more loyal than the bitch who gave birth to us."

"Please do not hold back your feelings, sister."

Hyatt all but snorted. "I'm not too worried about you. I figure we're pretty much evenly matched, you and I." She leaned closer, controlled rage vibrating through her body and even her voice. "But if you've done anything, anything at all to put Sydney in more danger than she's already in, I swear to God I'll make it my personal mission to ensure you rot in jail for the rest of your life."

"Sydney?" Yasmine's poise slipped.

"Cut the innocent crap, little sister." Hyatt's words trembled with impatience and rising volume until heads started to turn toward her. "Your lies this week pretty much negate the act."

Yasmine's brows pulled together, her attention skipping from person to person in the room. She blinked faster, then her eyes widened, brows relaxing apart again. "She's one of the hostages?" Her voice grew louder, higher with each word. "Is she?'' She directed the question at Drew, at the trio of Air Force officers in the corner. "Did Ammar take my sister Sydney?"

Silence echoed a loud affirmation.

"No." The lone word held more pain than any speech. Her hand clamped against her mouth just before she doubled over.

If this was still an act, it was a damned good one. He stomped the spark of sympathy even as he wanted to believe her horror was real. Damn, but did he ever need it to be true, for her, for himself so he wasn't the same dumb-ass fool he'd been all those years ago with Glenna. And for some reason he refused to let himself analyze, the betrayal cut deeper this time.

It had to be because stakes were higher now, more people depending on him not to screw up. By God, he would not let himself go soft.

Once Yasmine straightened again, Hyatt cocked her head to the side and continued. "It sure would be all nice and pretty if you're telling the truth. But
you know what? Even if you're not lying this time, you understand what Ammar al-Khayr is capable of. You put everyone in here who was helping you at greater risk by keeping silent."

Hyatt's composure deflated. Her shoulders sagged, dark circles under her eyes matching her sister's in an ironic sibling resemblance of grief. "Yeah, getting Sydney out of here is personal for me. But what about the hundreds of other people here who've never laid eyes on her and are selflessly willing to die for her?

For you, too." Her voice cracked. "What about the young man who died last night?"

Hyatt's teeth clamped together on a hiss and she spun away.

Keagan shoved up from the desk. "Okay, people. Let's take a breather, grab some coffee from the mess hall, shake off the dust and start again."

The Air Force officers all banded together around their own, leading Hyatt out into the hall. The doorway stood open, an Army guard to the side, an unspoken message that Yasmine wasn't free to leave.

Drew hooked his thumb in his M-16 strap, but didn't move. Why the hell hadn't he made tracks out for Java, as well? God knows he could use some.

Shit. Damned women. He snagged another file off the desk from beside his Land Mobile Radio and buried his face in weather report data.

"I am sorry." She spoke softly, her meaning clear enough for him but vague enough if the guard happened to overhear.

"I'm sure you are," Drew answered without looking up. "But it's too little, too late."

"You don't believe I want to leave here?"

"Oh, I absolutely believe you want to leave." He clapped the file closed. "But you should have listened to what your sister had to say about why we do what we do."

Drew leaned closer, to keep their conversation private as well as to make his point while proving to himself he could be near her. Smell her. And
not
take her. "You didn't have to waste the energy playing me. I would have fought to the death to help you escape here even if you'd been a ninety-year-old woman with only three days left to live."

The fire in her eyes died. Tears pooled. The first all-out ones he'd ever seen from her.

Fool me once...

He pivoted away from her and her tear-filled eyes, pitching the folder to skid across the desk to rest beside his LMR.

On cue, the radio crackled with an incoming call for him and he returned his focus to his job, something that grew increasingly difficult with every day he spent with this woman. "Alpha, here. Over."

"Sir, there's some activity going on you need to check out. Looks like the camp's packing up. Intel indicates they'll be on the move anytime now."

Dusk. Not dark. Damn it.

Helmet bag in hand, Jack strode toward the pickup trucks that would carry the crews out to the airplanes.

As much as he wanted to get this mission under way, he would give his left nut to be taking off a few hours later. Deeper into the night as originally planned for the maximum element of surprise. But with an impending sandstorm and camp activity indicating a move...they would just have to pray like hell that the evening would be dark enough and that everyone turned in early to rest up for their big moving day.