Cover of Darkness (34 page)

Someone tugged at her robe and she looked down.

Karima, Fahdi and Hala's five-year-old daughter, was staring up at her. Bryn forced a smile. "Salaam."

Full of empathy, the little girl's hazel eyes seemed way too old in her young face. One tiny hand reached up and wrapped around her fingers in an offer of comfort.

Touched by the child's intuitive kindness, Bryn sank to her knees and pressed a kiss to the smooth forehead. "Thank you, little one," she whispered.

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With a pleased smile, the girl towed her to a different room and showed Bryn her dolls.

The afternoon passed quickly, and by the time Bryn had helped her hostess prepare dinner amid a mixture of gestures and halting Arabic, the sun had set. After they ate, she helped Hala bathe the baby and get the others ready for bed.

Bryn loved every second she spent with the children. They reminded her of the good things in life. And what was important. These children were the future of Iraq. She prayed they would have a peaceful place to live soon.

Later, when Hala handed her the baby wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket, her heart squeezed. She sat in a chair and snuggled him close. The sweet scent of him made her ache.

Singing softly, she rocked him, nuzzling his downy black hair with her nose. He made a murmur of contentment and yawned hugely, his long lashes resting against his smooth cheeks as he slept in her arms. So innocent. Precious. Bryn closed her eyes and breathed him in, savoring the warm weight of his little body tucked so trustingly against her. She wanted this someday. Someday soon. She wondered if Dec wanted kids, too.

Hala stood watching from the doorway, a smile wreathing her face, as if she'd known holding the baby was exactly what Bryn needed. Stealing one last snuggle, she placed the baby in his crib and the two of them went to sit in front of the television. When the news anchor reported on the explosion at the compound, Hala hurried to change the channel.

After a while, she went into the kitchen and returned with some hot tea. Grateful for her kindness, Bryn wished she was 320

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fluent in Arabic so they could talk properly. She approved of her mothering skills, especially of how clearly she adored her children. As they drank, Hala kept glancing at the clock on the wall. Was she wondering where her husband was?

Bryn searched her vocabulary, hoped she would be understood. "He is probably helping the men at the..." She didn't know the word for explosion. "Fire."

Hala looked down at her teacup, tension taking hold of her frame.

"I'm sure he's fine," Bryn added to reassure her.

When Hala lifted her gaze, it was filled with sympathy and...trepidation.

"What is it?"

The other woman pressed her lips together.

"Hala?" She risked putting her hand on her wrist. It trembled. "What is it?" Her chest tightened.

Her hostess's hazel eyes clouded with tears. "You should not be here," she began in a hoarse whisper.

Skin prickling, Bryn willed her to continue.

"My husband," she said, wringing her hands, her voice stronger this time. Her gaze traveled to the window overlooking the garden, where a smudge of smoke from the bombing stained the twilit sky, then reverted to Bryn.

The fear and shame in that gaze hit Bryn like a fist.

"He is... You are in danger here."

As her brain processed what the woman was saying, Bryn's stomach plummeted. The blood drained from her face and her mind shrieked with denial.
Fahdi. Oh God, not Fahdi...

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Hala's shoulders jerked as she began to cry. "You should never have come here."

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Evening

"I still can't reach Sam," Ben said to him. "You heard anything from her yet?"

Dec shook his head. "Nothing."

"Rhys is out sniffing around, but she wasn't at her place when I went by." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not like her to drop out of contact like this. Think she's okay?"

"Let's hope so." Dec didn't like it either. Not a damn bit.

There were too many unknowns right now, and Sam falling off the radar wasn't easing the tension in his gut. And now Bryn was at Fahdi's, with no one to protect her. He'd hated leaving her there, but he hadn't had a choice. Nearby Luke was talking with the head of the Explosives Ordinance Disposal team, examining something in his hand. His expression went black.

"Uh-oh," Ben said under his breath. "This ain't gonna be good."

No shit, Dec thought as Luke stalked over to them and dumped a chunk of metal into Dec's palm.

He studied it, gearing up for bad news. "Nice fuse."

Next Luke handed him a timing mechanism. "Iranian.

Could have been planted on that Hummer by anyone, but who in our cozy little group would have sympathetic ties to Tehran?"

"A Shi'a Muslim," he reasoned.

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Luke kept gazing at him.

Dec's heart and lungs constricted as he connected the dots. Shit...

"Fahdi." Ben confirmed.

"Oh, Jesus," Dec moaned, breaking out in a clammy sweat.

"What are we gonna do about Bryn?"

"Nothing. Leave her where she is for now."

"Are you fucking nuts? If we're right about Fahdi, he could turn her over to Tehrazzi, or kill her himself."

"Fahdi's not going to do anything to her. Tehrazzi wants her for his bodyguard to kill in front of him, so if Fahdi's working for him, he won't touch her. Right now, Bryn's our best hope of finding out whether he planted the bomb, or if he's our mole. Let's wait and see what she can dig up."

Dec's heart was in his throat as a terrible realization hit him. Jesus. Luke had suspected Fahdi all along. That's why he'd ordered him to take her to Fahdi's. "You son of a bitch.

You sent her there as bait, didn't you? You had me put her there even though you knew she'd be without protection."

Luke didn't answer.

"What the hell's
wrong
with you? She's a civilian—"

"She's a
member
of this
team
. She signed on for this—I'm not asking her to do anything she didn't agree to."

"Fuck that!" Dec fought to get hold of his temper, drilled him with a dark glare. "We have to at least contact her, make sure she's all right."

Luke's eyes hardened. "If she knows we suspect Fahdi, she won't stay long enough to find out what we need to know, will she?"

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"We can't just leave her there." His stomach was in knots.

He wanted to get her out of there, right now.

His cell rang. He snatched it, stared with a tripping heart at the display. Almost fell to his knees before he answered.

"Bryn."

"Fahdi did it," she blurted. "Fahdi planted the bomb. His wife just told me—"

"Shit." He mouthed the information to Luke. "Where are you?" His heart was pounding at the thought of her in that house, in a bomber's house.

"Running down the street. I snuck out so I could call you,"

she panted. "Hala probably knows I'll warn you. What if she tells Fahdi?"

"It's okay, Bryn." He had to calm her, keep her coherent and focused. "You need to get out of there now. Find some cover, somewhere you can drop out of sight. We'll come find you, track the GPS chip in the phone."

"That's not your call to make," Luke said.

Dec thrust the phone at him. "Then
you
tell her we're leaving her there." His muscles were coiled like springs, ready to snap.

Luke's lips thinned, but he didn't argue further. He was probably beating himself up for trusting Fahdi, for not seeing through the guy sooner. Probably still hoped Bryn could ferret out more inside info that would help him nail the bastard.

Well, that was Luke's problem. Damned if Dec was leaving Bryn there as bait for a terrorist for another second if he could help it.

"Does she know where Fahdi is?" Luke demanded.

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Dec put the phone to his ear and relayed the question, then shook his head. "If Hala has any clue, she's not saying."

Luke snarled at Ben, "Lock onto Fahdi. We're bringing him in."

Forget Fahdi
. "Bryn first," Dec snapped, then more softly to Bryn, "Keep moving, honey. Make sure you're not being followed. And stay on the line with me, okay?"

"O-okay." Her breath hitched.

Christ, he hadn't meant to scare her even more, but he had a real bad feeling. No doubt Fahdi knew by now that his attempt to assassinate them had failed, and there was Bryn, the perfect target, awaiting him at home. Why the hell had he let Luke go ahead with this?

He dashed outside, Luke and Ben on his tail. His frantic gaze fell on an army vehicle parked at the curb. He tore over.

Leaving Luke to pull the Iraqi soldier out of the front seat, he and Ben did a quick once over to check for explosives before climbing inside. He put the phone to his ear. "Bryn, you hidden yet?"

"No, I can't see anything to—Where are you?"

Her fear hit him hard. "We're on our way." His fingers tightened around the phone as Luke gunned it. "How long, Ben?"

"Barring roadblocks, about seven minutes."

He kept talking to her as the minutes ticked past, linking to her with his voice, trying to keep her level as she slipped away from Fahdi's house into the darkening neighborhood, alone. Goddamn Fahdi. He'd actually liked the son of a bitch.

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money. He couldn't wait to get after the bastard, and could tell Luke was itching to.

"Three more blocks," Ben said.

"Any minute, Bryn." Then, on the other end of the line, he heard the screech of tires, Bryn's sharply indrawn breath.

"Oh, God, Dec!" she yelled, making the hair on his arms stand up. "Two men. They saw me. They're coming after me."

He made out her running footsteps as she fled for her life.

He barked her name, muscles tight as a steel cable. She screamed. A clatter followed, as though she'd dropped the phone.

"Bryn!" he roared, desperate for her response. No answer, just grunts and her desperate cries as she struggled against whoever had her. "Jesus Christ," he said hoarsely, "they've got her."

Bryn broke free of the meaty arms wrapped around her, a scream trapped in her throat. Her heart thundered in her ears as she lunged away, but someone else caught a fistful of her robe and wrenched her backward. Whirling on him, she landed a punch to his face, barely registering the pain in her hand, and flung herself backward with all her strength.

They would not take her.

Not this time.

More hands grabbed at her.

Heels planted, she turned. Kicked one guy's feet out.

Damned robe kept tangling around her legs. Turned again.

Another man coming at her. She crouched in her fighting stance.

Punch.

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Wheeling around, she drove up with her palm toward his throat. Missed.

Spin. Block left. Block low.

Punch.

A fist glanced off her ribs. She sucked in a breath.

Punch. She threw him over her hip, screaming her rage at him.

The man flew onto the pavement with a grunt. She turned to face the other.

Come on, you bastard.

Aim high. Kick. She caught him in the shoulder. Keep moving.

Punch.

He staggered back with a curse.

Panting, she broke free again and took off down the street, weaving in case they drew a gun so she'd be harder to hit.

Where the hell was Dec with her backup? Footsteps thundered behind her, getting closer. Closer. A sob caught in her throat. Tiring fast.

A heavy weight hit her between the shoulder blades and she went crashing down. If they captured her they would torture or kill her. She could
not
let them take her.
Fight,
Bryn.
Struggling out from under his sweaty weight, she choked when he locked a damp, hairy forearm under her throat. As he squeezed, her vision dimmed.

A block away, Dec gripped the door handle as Luke pushed the vehicle to breakneck speed, hurtling down the street and around the last corner. There was Bryn, in the shadows fighting off two men, battling her way out of headlock.

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"Fuck!" Dec snarled, body coiled tight. As Luke careened to a stop, Dec and Ben exploded out of the vehicle and took off at a sprint.

Bryn fought loose from one of her attackers, landing an elbow to the groin and scrambling away, but the other man snagged her ankle and hauled her toward the waiting car, pistol in hand. Dec raised his Glock, but didn't have a clear shot. Swearing, he ran on, oblivious to the bullet ripping past his head. They must be under orders to kidnap her without harming her, but if she kept fighting, they would have to get more violent with her.

"Dec!" she cried as the other man lunged at her, then she lashed out with a roundhouse kick, knocking both of them down. Clear, she started to run, but the first guy tackled her and sent her face first into the pavement.

Ben double-palmed his pistol and fired, hitting the bastard in the thigh. He staggered and Bryn kicked him in the chest, completing his fall, then shot forward, her eyes so wide Dec could see white all around the irises as she came flying toward them.
Nearly there, baby. Keep running.

But one of them grabbed her again. The man flattened her and swept her up in front of him. They couldn't shoot without risking hitting Bryn.

"Let her go," Dec growled in Arabic, frantic as the guy wrenched her to the waiting vehicle. Dec kept running, praying for any kind of a clear shot once he was within range.