Cover of Darkness (17 page)

Was he getting ready to haul her out and make a run for it if they crashed? Her fingers curled into his shirt as she lifted her gaze to his face, finding him staring intently out the rear window. Above the noise of the engine came a distinct cracking sound.

"Shit," he muttered.

Shit what? She lifted her head in a flare of panic.

"Stay down," he snapped, exerting more pressure on her nape.

Something pinged off the Rover. Christ, were they being
shot
at? "Dec—" she croaked.

"We're fine," he said above her, his hold on her unrelenting. "We've got armor plating and bullet-proof glass."

God, they
were
being shot at.

"Hang on, guys. Just another few turns," Ben narrated while Dec's weight kept her in place as the Rover skidded around a sharp left.

Her seatbelt snapped tight across her body as Ben slammed on the brakes, throwing her forward, and Dec crashed into the back of the front seat with a grunt before flinging himself back on top of her as the vehicle turned another corner and zoomed ahead.

"You okay, Irish?" Ben asked.

"Yeah. I'm good." Dec shifted into his original position against her. "Just lose 'em."

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"Roger that."

Belatedly Bryn realized Dec must have taken off his seatbelt to shield her with his body. She choked back a cry of protest and squeezed his forearm, the muscles solid under her clammy fingers. As his thumb moved against the side of her neck in a gesture of reassurance, she wanted to cry.

The Rover's engine hummed as Ben maintained their speed, then revved as they took another curve and accelerated, their unimpeded route and speed suggesting they'd finally hit the freeway. Above her, Dec's body relaxed, but when she risked a glance up at his face, his gaze was still fixed out the back window. Had they lost whoever had shot at them?

"Got the plate number?" Ben asked.

"Yeah."

Another few minutes ticked by until Dec eased his weight off her and helped her sit up. Shaking, she could only stare out the windshield and savor the fact she wasn't bleeding from a bullet wound or burning to death in a fiery car wreck.

When Ben asked if she was okay, she met his gaze in the rearview mirror and forced her creaky neck to move up and down. Swallowing the lump stuck in her dry throat, it dawned on her that her fingers were wrapped around something and glancing down, she found Dec's hand clutched in hers. Since he wasn't pulling away, she didn't let go.

"Well," Ben announced to no one in particular a few moments later. "Guess my brother's gonna have to find his own ride back from the airport."

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When Luke entered the dining room that evening, the first things he noticed were the dark circles under Bryn's eyes, and her rigid posture. Not surprising considering the reports he'd received about the car chase and shooting that afternoon, but not good signs, as he'd already been questioning her mental ability to take part in this op. Everything he knew about her said she was strong and resilient, but she'd need every ounce of backbone she possessed. And whatever he personally thought about taking her along didn't mean shit. If they were going to nail Tehrazzi, they needed her. Period.

She poked at her salad and kept glancing at her father's place at the head of the table. Out of respect for him they'd left the chair empty, but it was probably worse for her to see it unoccupied. Clearly she had to make herself swallow the bite of greens on her fork, almost gagging as she forced it down.

"Hey boss," Ben said around a mouthful of lamb. "Got any news?"

"That source of yours pan out yet?" Dec asked.

Luke slid into his chair and placed his napkin across his lap. "He did. Word is Tehrazzi's headed to Damascus. No better place for a terrorist to do a little fundraising. Except maybe Baghdad."

Bryn stiffened. "Damascus?"

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"Tehrazzi's got backing from all sorts of sponsors," Dec explained. "Wealthy businessmen, Hezbollah, Hamas, Shiite militias in Iraq. Maybe even state backing from Iran."

Hell, knowing Tehrazzi, it was likely. They just hadn't been able to prove it yet.

One of the household staff came to the doorway. "Excuse the interruption, but there is a phone call for you, Miss Bryn."

"You can't leave yet," a deep voice called, and everyone turned toward the doorway.

"Rhys!" Bryn cried, jumping to her feet and heading for the dark-haired man standing there grinning at her.

"Hey, little girl." He caught her up in a hug.

"I'm not little." But even on tiptoe she could barely reach high enough to wrap her arms around his neck. "And I'm three years older than you."

He set her down. "No. Are you really?"

"Please, like you don't have everything about me memorized, right down to my social security number and bra size."

He held up a wide palm in defense, navy-blue eyes laughing. "Strictly for professional reasons." Then he gathered her tight against him and spoke against the top of her head.

"I'm real sorry about your dad."

"Thanks."

She led him to the table, where he shook hands with Luke and Dec and scrubbed a hand over his twin's hair on his way to his seat. "Hey, little bro."

"Hey, dickhead."

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Rhys swatted the side of Ben's head. "Punk. Watch your mouth in front of Bryn."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because she's never heard me call you that before."

Stretching his long frame into his chair, he helped himself to the food on the table. "I hear I missed out on some excitement today."

The light in Bryn's eyes snuffed out like a candle flame.

"Yeah. It sure was...exciting."

"Well, don't worry about a thing, little girl. All four of us will take care of you until this thing is over." His voice held grim determination.

As Bryn excused herself to take the phone call, Luke helped himself to a warm roll, his mind humming. "Dec, I need to know if Bryn's ready or not. This can't wait much longer."

"As ready as she's gonna be. We've gone over self-defense, CQB, firearms, some anti-surveillance. She's got the basics down."

"Where's her head at?"

"She'll manage. She's very..."

"Stubborn," Ben finished for him, setting down his fork and popping in a piece of gum. "That's the word you're looking for."

Dec grinned. "She is a little headstrong, yeah."

"She won't let you down," said Rhys. "She's smart, and as loyal as they come. She'll do what she has to, and would rather drop dead from exhaustion than quit. Keep that in mind while you're working with her."

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"We will," Dec said. "Her safety is paramount, even more than bagging Tehrazzi."

Chewing on rice pilaf studded with stewed dates and scented with cinnamon, Luke saw the twins' grudging appreciation, but then Ben leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Tell me again why you need her so badly for this op?"

Luke fielded that one. "Because Tehrazzi wants her."

Ben snapped his gum. "Uh-huh." His arm muscles tightened, aggression showing in the narrowing of his eyes.

"So what, we tour her through town a little, let everyone see her and wait for the fish to start jumping? Like this afternoon?"

"Sort of."

Rhys folded his arms. "You really think Tehrazzi'll jump?"

"Trust me, he'll jump."

Rhys' black brows spiked. "Because that's what his psych eval says, or are you his biographer?"

A cold smile spread across Luke's face. "Something like that."

"Look," Dec said. "None of us like the fact that Bryn's going into harm's way. But that's where we come in. If we do our job right, she'll never be at serious risk. Let's tie this up and get her the hell home safely." The muscles in his jaw clenched, the only display of tension.

"Sorry about that," Bryn said, returning from the library.

She addressed Luke. "That was your wife on the phone."

The comment threw him. He did his damndest to hide any reaction, but the mention of Emily jarred him inside. He hated 162

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that anything could affect him in such a way while he was working. He forced the mouthful he'd been chewing down a throat suddenly gone too tight. "Ex-wife."

"Oh, yeah." Bryn's gaze dropped to her plate as she sat down. "Sorry."

He waved away her concern. "She was probably worried about you."

"Yes, until I told her you were staying here." When he didn't reply, she set about cutting a dainty piece of meat. "I said I'd hired you to look out for me until I went home, and she was relieved."

"That's good." The last thing he needed was Emily knowing Bryn was working for him. The less anyone knew about what was really going on, the better for all of them.

Bryn's dark brown eyes slanted across the table at him.

"She said to say hi."

Something painful expanded in his chest. Something that burned like hope. So he squashed it, out of habit. "Did she?"

"Yeah, and that I couldn't be in better hands."

He met her innocent stare with a bland one. "Nice to know she thinks of me that way." They both knew what a load of shit that was. If Bryn was tight with his son, and if she and Emily were close enough that his ex would call halfway around the world to check on her, then Bryn must know exactly what kind of man he was.

And what kind he wasn't.

He tossed back the rest of his water. "When everyone's finished dinner, we'll check our supplies while McCabe and I 163

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get our rides set up. We'll leave for Damascus at oh-four-hundred."

Bryn shot to her feet. "Think I'll ... run up and take a bath.

See you guys in the morning."

With her exit Luke headed into the library to go over some maps, debating Bryn's connection with his ex-wife and son and the added weight that placed on his shoulders. And he thought of Tehrazzi, still at large six years after the hunt for him had begun. Probably out there riding one of his beloved horses right now. In all the time he'd been tracking him, one constant had remained in Tehrazzi's life—his horses. He loved them more than anything else, maybe even more than the God in whose name he waged jihad.

Sighing, Luke reminded himself how desperate he must be to try this. If anything happened to Bryn while she was under his care, he could kiss his fledgling, sorry-assed relationship with his son goodbye, and Emily...well, she might finally wind up hating him. But he couldn't see any other way to get the job done.

Was he sure Tehrazzi would bite? Damn right he was. He knew him better than anyone else.

You should
, the derisive voice in his head pointed out.
You
trained the son of a bitch in the first place
.

Curled up in her bed with a Jane Austen novel, Bryn relaxed amid the rumbling of masculine voices drifting up from the lower floor. Having the military men in the house—

special ops soldiers at that—she didn't worry for a second that she wasn't safe. It amazed her that four alpha males could function together without fistfights and bloodshed. Not that 164

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there was any doubt as to who was the alpha of this pack.

Luke's dominance was unquestionable.

At least Ben and Dec seemed to have settled whatever differences they'd had and were acting like buddies now.

Earlier they had sat around the table discussing the latest information on the men who'd come after them this afternoon. After passing on the license plate to the local law enforcement, within an hour they had received a call saying two men had been arrested. Not only had they neglected to ditch their car, but they'd parked it right in front of the apartment where its owner lived and had gone inside. The police reported the two had seen the reward posted on the web. They'd followed the Range Rover to the doctor's office and chased after them in the hopes of shooting out a tire so they could ambush the vehicle and snatch her. Stupid, yes, but still a threat. Amateur criminals could be equally as dangerous as seasoned ones, especially to innocent bystanders. No matter how she viewed it, she was a marked woman, and it wasn't a matter of if, but when, she would be targeted again. Odds were her pursuers couldn't all be incompetent.

Despite the criminals' ineptitude today, Tehrazzi had almost gotten her. Again.

He wants you dead, Bryn...

Dec's voice pierced her morbid memory. Back at the compound after the car chase, he'd hustled her out of the Rover straight into the living room, where he'd settled her on a sofa with a throw blanket and gone to make her a cup of tea. He was so sweet with her, like he'd been at the hospital.

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And though she'd have loved to crawl onto his lap and burrow into his chest, she'd kept that impulse to herself, afraid he would have distanced himself from her again.

A communal laugh came from below and she sighed wistfully. If it had been old times, with just her and the Sinclair twins, she would have been down there playing cards or Monopoly with them. But for some reason, Dec and Luke made her feel like an outsider, even though she technically now owned the place, according to her father's will.

That empty dining chair haunted her. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to grieve for him, for what their relationship could have been. Over the years he hadn't spent all that much time with her, but after his funeral she'd found boxes and albums in his study, full of pictures of her from infancy to adulthood. Luke had been right in his observation about her father. She'd cried because even though he'd been half a world away, he'd taken the trouble to follow her life.