Cover of Darkness (32 page)

Only one of his lieutenants had survived yesterday's air strike, and he was being carried on a litter, his head bound and his back covered with deep burns. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness, which was probably a blessing. When he came to, his agonized cries made Tehrazzi's skin crawl.

Every time the breeze picked up, the stench of burned flesh rose, choking them. Several men had stumbled to the side of the trail to be sick.

Tehrazzi's ears buzzed as loud as a swarm of flies in his skull. His vision was blurry, and his feet had trouble picking over the rocks, slow and uncoordinated. Sometimes he weaved and had to stop, panting and sweating as he fought to keep from throwing up in the dirt.

But at least he was alive. For a few minutes after the explosion he hadn't been sure.

He glanced back for Ghaliya, being led by a youngster behind him. He hadn't trusted himself to stay in the saddle, and if he led her himself he feared tangling her feet with his awkward gait, so no matter how much he disliked handing her off, she was safer with someone else.

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A wave of gratitude overcame him. She had saved him. If not for her, he would have been in the house with the others when the missile had hit, instead of in the humble stable he had found to shelter her at the edge of the village. It was a miracle she hadn't gone mad from the force of the explosion.

When he'd picked himself up and screamed her name over the ringing in his ears, she'd been standing beside him and bumped him with her muzzle. The relief had sent him to his knees again. Outside, when he'd seen the crater where the house had been, he'd clambered up onto her back and allowed her to gallop off, carrying him to safety.

Yet he'd sensed someone watching. Tracking him. Hunting him.

He'd been aware of a prickling at the base of his neck.

Acting on instinct, he'd slumped forward over her mane just as the bullet whined past, grazing her shoulder. Ghaliya had whinnied but kept going, and soon they had gained refuge in the foothills and met with his followers.

Still, the uneasiness would not leave him, a low-grade hum in his guts, despite his attempts to push it out of his consciousness. He feared his suspicion was true—that his teacher had found him at last.

With determination he put it from his mind and meditated, thanking Allah for His grace and protection. He allowed himself to drift as he placed one foot in front of the other, ignoring the burn in his muscles and the strain on his heart and lungs during the climb into the hills. When they reached the Iranian border, they would be safe. For now, they had to 302

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find temporary shelter and make contact with their source in Baghdad.

A shout from behind him made him whip around, and he had to grab his head to stop it spinning. Opening his eyes, he waited until his vision cleared and saw a group of his men gathered around Ghaliya, arguing amongst themselves.

The mare's head jerked up at their sharp, careless gesturing, her ears back, eyes wide at their angry voices.

Bright blood stained her glossy coat where her flesh wound had reopened on her shoulder. Someone was probing at it in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

A growl of rage vibrated up his throat. The man closest to him backed away with a fearful expression as he started toward the group.

Ghaliya pulled on the tether holding her, a neigh of fear splitting the air. Others grabbed it to hold her still and she balked, rear hooves scrambling over the ground.

"Stop!" he commanded, vision blurring from anger and the concussion.

As one they turned to him, and as his fury registered, they released Ghaliya's red halter and leapt back, making her shy up.

If those imbeciles didn't stay still, he'd—

Ghaliya stumbled as her rear hoof slipped on a stone.

Tehrazzi's heart lodged in his throat. The youngster in charge of her lunged toward her in an attempt to grab the lead rope, and his magnificent horse rose on her hind legs, pawing.

Front hooves slicing through the air, her injured back leg buckled, and she tipped sideways toward the cliff.

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"No!" Paralyzed, he anticipated what was about to happen.

His vision tunneled.

Ghaliya squealed and tried to right herself, her wide eyes staring straight at him as she toppled over the edge.

Stricken, stomach heaving, Tehrazzi sprinted to the spot where she'd fallen and peered down.
Allah, please let her be
all right
. Over the roar in his ears came her agonized screams and bile rose in his throat. Her black body thrashed weakly in a wash partway down, her broken forelegs flopping uselessly as she tried to stand.

Without realizing he'd moved, he found himself scrambling down the steep wall past some of the others. They froze at his guttural cry of grief as he raced to Ghaliya's side.

On level ground, he approached her slowly, speaking to her in a soothing voice though tears streamed down his face.

The whites of the mare's eyes showed as he came nearer, ears pricked forward at his crooning tone. As that gentle, agonized gaze settled on his, he saw the mute plea in them and sobbed as his heart broke.

Falling to his knees beside her, he stroked her quivering neck, fiery pain burning in his chest as she attempted to butt his shoulder with her nose. Quaking with shock and anguish, he unsheathed the jeweled dagger from his belt, careful to keep her from seeing it. He passed his hand over the fine slope of her forehead and over her nose, her panting breaths and whinnies tearing at him. Gathering a breath, he brought the knife up and sliced through her throat with a hard, clean swipe. Her head snapped up, her body jerking as she stared 304

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at him in stunned surprise, her blood gushing from the mortal wound.

He held her equine head in his lap while her lifeblood soaked through his clothing into the sand beneath them, her trusting eyes fixed on his as she died. When she breathed no more, Tehrazzi tilted his tear-stained face to the sky and screamed to the heavens.

As her blood congealed around him, his rage and hatred condensed in his soul. His teacher would pay for this. Him and Daoud's daughter.

By Allah, I will make them all pay.

Day 12, Baghdad

Morning

A little after nine that morning, Ben leaned back in his chair at the computer terminal and stretched his arms over his head. A mighty yawn worked its way up his throat and cracked his jaw, making his eyes water. After the night's work they'd put in, he wanted a hot shower and a bed, in that order and nothing else.

What a goat-fuck the op had been. Not only had they missed Tehrazzi, but watching those kids die had to have leveled Bryn. He hoped to hell Irish was taking good care of her, and that he'd finally ditched his rigid code of conduct in order to give her the comfort she must need right now. Jesus, Ben thought. Who the hell would have ever guessed he'd wish for
that
? The idea didn't hurt so much now, anyway. Not since he'd met Sam.

His phone rang, and he was surprised to see Sam's number displayed. Earlier that morning he'd offered to see 305

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her home from the TOC, but she'd waved him off with a good-natured reply and taken a cab. He picked up. "Hey, sweets.

Miss me already?"

"Ben, someone's been into my place."

He sat bolt upright at the alarm in her voice. "What? Are you all right?"

"Yes, but someone broke in this morning around five.

They've been into my computer and took some personal mail."

Ben was silent a moment. "They take anything else?"

She huffed out an irritated breath. "I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but my gut says differently."

Okay. "Why's that?"

"They took a letter from Neveah, and opened my email file with her name on it."

Why would they bother unless they meant to use it for something? Sam's cousin meant everything to her. If someone had been looking for a way to gain leverage with Sam, they'd done their homework.

"I also found a transmitter in my smoke detector—"

"
What
?" What kind of crazy bullshit was this?

"—so I figure there have to be more. Could you come over?" She'd dropped her voice to a whisper.

Yeah, because that'll help if someone's listening in.

"Damn straight. We're on our way."

He and Rhys drove straight over and went through her suite room by room. While Rhys stayed with her, Ben headed to security to review the hotel's CCTV tapes. He returned and told them a dark-haired man of medium build was seen 306

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entering her room at about oh-four-fifty that morning, but the images weren't clear enough to ID him.

Sam's face was pale as flour at the news. She handed him the dime-sized transmitter she'd found in her smoke detector.

Suspicion took root in his gut as he sat down at her laptop to look at her emails. With a few keystrokes, he entered her password and found an email from her cousin saying she was flying to Kabul in three days. So, Neveah was off to save the world again with Doctors Without Borders. Imagine completing medical school and residency only to pack up and leave all creature comforts behind to fly to the ass end of the world and put yourself in the middle of a moonscape war zone. Ben closed the file and turned his head to look at Sam.

"Got anything else you want to tell me?"

She swallowed and broke eye contact, which made the acid churn in his stomach. "I've—I've been followed."

Ben raised a brow. "Is that right. When?"

"I don't have any hard evidence, but I feel someone behind me sometimes when I'm out."

For God's sake... "How long has this been happening?"

"A week or two now."

"And you only thought to tell someone about it now?"

She fidgeted. "After this morning, I realized it's not just my imagination playing tricks on me."

Yeah, and wasn't that a damn shame? "Any reason I don't know about that might explain why someone has taken such an interest in you?"

Her posture and expression radiated nervousness. "No."

Christ, he hoped she was telling the truth about that.

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He analyzed this new intel. Who the hell was it he'd seen on that video? Not anyone from the Najaf op, because they'd only arrived in Baghdad two hours ago. That left Fahdi and Davis, but why in hell would they have broken in to Sam's place? Besides, it could easily have been a stranger. American contractors had plenty of enemies in Baghdad. Whoever it was, someone had been watching her closely enough to be certain she hadn't returned home last night. Which meant someone was keeping a very close eye on her.

The question was, why? Either she had information someone wanted, or she was hiding something and they were trying to find it.

His brother was still checking around the apartment for other bugs. "Find anything yet, Rhys?"

"Negative," Rhys called from the bedroom.

The whole place was immaculately clean. Everything was in its place, and then some. The woman was a manic organizer. No wonder she'd noticed her cousin's letter was missing. Ben scanned the room with a critical eye, trying to decide where he'd plant a bug. He got up and walked to a framed picture hanging on the wall above her couch, and carefully pulled a corner of it away from the wall. He almost missed it. Craning his neck, he peered closer. There.

Something green and metallic. A micro-transmitter. Bingo. He grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger and pried it loose. "This look familiar?"

She shook her head. "It's not one of mine."

Her defensive answer made the nape of his neck prickle, and reminded him that she built and hid things like these for 308

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a living. "I didn't say it was. I just meant it looks the same as the one you already found."

"Oh. Yeah, it's the same."

What did they have on her to warrant bugging her place?

He eyed the cordless phone extension on her desk. "You check that thing?"

"No, I didn't want to touch anything else until you got here."

He opened up the handset and sure enough, found one in there, too. Were there more? Might be cameras here as well, he thought, glancing around at the possible hiding places.

"Any other spots you can suggest?" She should know. She'd bugged plenty of rooms in her tenure with the CIA. Christ, could she be in on something he didn't know about?

"No. You guys seemed to have it covered."

Did the CIA have her under surveillance? Luke was the obvious answer because he had the highest security clearance and knew things the rest of them didn't, but it could have been any of the handlers at the office. Or was it someone with terrorism or extortion on their mind? Hard to believe any CIA operative would be so sloppy as to leave evidence of their presence.

Unless they wanted her to know they were keeping tabs on her. They might if they suspected she had something they wanted.

Ben thought of the possible culprits in their cozy little group. Fahdi had been acting weird for the past day or two, curt and withdrawn, and he was friends with Sam. If Luke had noticed the change in behavior, he hadn't said anything, but 309

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Ben doubted Fahdi would have the guts or the know how to do this in the first place. Davis, maybe. He was a cool customer. Always skulking about, never socializing with anyone. More of a loner than Rhys, if that was possible. But what reason would Luke have for wanting Sam tagged? The whole thing made Ben damned uneasy.

At any rate, it was safer for her to return to the TOC until they knew what was going on. "Let's get you out of here and get some answers." Maybe while they were at it, Ben would get some of his own.