Hot Rebel (5 page)

“A mole?” Garrett “Iceman” Spencer asked.

Mendez’s lips flattened. “Probably. Someone in the CIA is giving information to whoever pays Black. Or maybe to Black himself. We don’t know.”

No one said anything at first. They all knew that when Gina Domenico had been in danger, someone in the government had suppressed the information that the man who’d kidnapped her baby and lured her to the Caribbean was still alive. Metaxas had come to DC and abducted her before they’d known—and he’d almost killed Jack Hunter in the process.
 

But HOT had never learned the traitor’s name, a fact that hung over their heads like a guillotine blade on a fraying rope.

“Someone told Black we were targeting Zaran bin Yusuf,” Nick said. “And he sent Victoria to stop us.”

Mendez turned dark eyes on Nick. “Almost, but not quite. They had intel that the opposition commander intended to have bin Yusuf killed. He was Royal’s target instead.”

Nick blinked. “Why didn’t
we
know that information?”
 

Mendez’s gaze was steady. “We did, son. But we couldn’t take the chance that he’d screw up and bin Yusuf would walk away, now could we? The mission was still critical.”
 

Mendez turned away without waiting for an answer. “As it is, he escaped anyway.”

Nick didn’t bother to protest that it wasn’t his fault. It
was
. Victoria had been there, right beneath his nose, and he hadn’t known it. She’d been setting up for a shot as difficult as his—but she’d fired first… and changed everything.

Dex looked over at him and frowned. Nick gave his head a small shake. He didn’t think Dex planned to tell the colonel it wasn’t their fault, but the guy was still new enough that maybe he did. Dex leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, looking as pissed as anyone in the room.

“Good job identifying our mystery sniper, soldier,” Mendez said, spinning around and pinning Nick with another look. “Without that, we’d still be in the dark about what was going on.”

Nick blinked. Was the colonel screwing with him?

But no, everyone was looking at him and nodding their approval. And he felt like shit inside because he’d let her get away.
Jesus
.
 

He should have rushed her when he had the chance and to hell with the pistol in her hand. She might have hesitated. He might have surprised her enough to get the gun from her before she shot him. But he’d been so pissed he’d walked away, giving her the chance to escape before he could double back and take her by surprise.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
 

But the words stuck in his throat like barbs.

Mendez sat at the table and flipped open the folder. “Victoria Faith Royal. Twenty-five years old. Single. Red hair. Gray eyes. Her sister is Emily Hope Royal, twenty-three years old, blond hair, brown eyes. Emily has a history with substance and alcohol abuse. But then she began seeing a man a few years ago who helped her get clean. This man came to the US from Qu’rim to learn engineering but dropped out of school after a couple of years and started hanging around a mosque. He became radicalized.”

Mendez paused and looked up. Nick felt himself leaning forward, hanging on the colonel’s every word.
 

“Emily converted to Islam and went to Qu’rim with this man. We think she may have married him, but we don’t know for certain. Once here, he became active in the Freedom Force. He was a minor player, but with the collapse of the organizational structure and the subsequent resurgence, he’s become someone to watch. In short, he was our target.”

Nick felt as if someone had sucker punched him. This was the reason Victoria had left the Army? She’d said that she hadn’t failed. But her sister associating with known terrorists must have been too much for the Army to take.

“Jesus,” Ryan “Flash” Gordon said, echoing what they all had to be thinking.
 

It was a tangled web of relationships worthy of a soap opera. But far more dangerous.

“Is that why Victoria left the Army?” Nick asked.

Mendez glanced down at his papers. “Though there was never any evidence she sympathized with her sister or bin Yusuf, she was thought to be a security risk. She was offered a desk job with no access to classified information, but she refused. Subsequently, she was discharged.”

Nick shoved a hand through his hair and frowned. Victoria’s sister ran away with a terrorist, and now Victoria was in Qu’rim, working for an outfit that seemed to be protecting the very organization her sister’s lover—or husband—was part of.
 

Nick thought of how she’d threatened to shoot him, and fresh anger swelled. He’d let her get the jump on him because he’d believed her to be on his and Dex’s side, however temporarily. She’d needed them to escape the opposition fighters, but what if she’d run right into the arms of the Freedom Force once she’d disappeared? It made Nick’s blood run cold and his stomach tighten.

Mendez slapped the folder closed and Nick jumped. All eyes went to the colonel.
 

“I have an assignment for you, but I’m going to warn you this doesn’t come from the top. If anyone wants out, he or she can get up right now and walk out the door, no questions asked.”

The colonel paused for a long moment, but no one made a move. He cleared his throat. “Good to know.” Mendez leaned forward, hands folded one on top of the other, and let his gaze rove across the room. “We’re going after Black and his team. I want to know who’s paying the bills over there, and I want to know what their end goal is. Most importantly, I want Victoria Royal. She’s the key to whatever’s going on—and I want to know what that is.”

CHAPTER FOUR

After two weeks of back-and-forth, Ian had news for her—and she was finally going to see Emily after more than three long years of not seeing her sister at all.
 

Victoria smoothed her hair and pressed a hand to her belly. She was wearing a cotton dress and sandals, trying to look nice for her sister, and sitting at a cafe like a tourist. Now she was wondering if it had been a mistake not to wear her usual clothing and cover it with a burka. She’d have felt less conspicuous, that’s certain, but she’d hoped to put Emily at ease by not appearing to be the hardened soldier that two years in Qu’rim had made her into.

It was almost laughable, but Victoria was trying to be ladylike, though she’d never had any training in how to be a lady. Not when she’d been raised by a crusty old man who’d died and left her and Emily to foster care—and to people who had no idea what to do with two teenage girls.

The Andersons had been good people, but they hadn’t known the first thing about how to stop Emily from spiraling into drugs and alcohol. They’d finally given up and called Child Protective Services to come and take Victoria and her sister back to the group home.

Her fingers drummed the tabletop nervously. She picked up the cup of sweet Arab coffee and took a sip, telling herself she had to act normal and be patient.

The seaside resort town where she’d been instructed to meet Emily was largely untouched by the civil war, but there were signs it wasn’t the idyllic paradise it was purported to be. There were security barriers on the way into town as well as random checkpoints manned by tanks and Qu’rimi Army personnel in full battle gear.

It was odd to be meeting Emily here, considering how this town was still firmly held by the Qu’rimi government. Emily wasn’t precisely associating with law-abiding citizens who wished the king’s government well, after all.

Still, Victoria had been told to come to Akhira and to wait at this cafe on this day at this time. She checked the time on her phone and blew out a breath. Emily was fifteen minutes late.
 

Victoria had no idea what she might say to her sister, or how she would get Emily away from the man who’d poisoned her mind. She’d only ever wanted Emily to be safe and well, but she hadn’t known for the past several years if her sister truly was either of those things.

When she’d called in the past, Emily had said everything was fine. But she’d also said that Zaran wasn’t a terrorist, either. He was a patriot, a man who cared deeply about his nation, his people, and his religion. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.
 

Blah, blah, blah
.

It made Victoria sick to think of everything she knew about Zaran bin Yusuf that was completely contrary to Emily’s picture of him. Still, there’d been hesitation in Emily’s voice the last time they’d spoken, and that had worried her.
 

“Miss Royal?”

Victoria’s head snapped up even as her heart pounded. A man in a white thobe and dark headdress stood beside the table, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked her over.

“Yes?”

He bowed slightly. “You are to come with me.”

Alarm prickled Victoria’s skin. “I don’t know you.”

“I am to take you to see Noor bin Zaran.”

Victoria’s heart tumbled. “I… I don’t know who that is.”

“She is the Light of Zaran, miss. She is your sister.”

The Light of Zaran. Dear God, Emily, what have you gotten yourself into?

Victoria was desperate to see her sister—but she wasn’t stupid. “How do I know you intend to take me to her?”

His smile wasn’t precisely comforting. “You do not. But you must choose. Come with me now and see your sister—or stay here because you are fearful.”

Victoria’s mind raced. “Describe her to me.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. But he painted a verbal picture of Emily that was accurate. It was the best she could do under the circumstances, so Victoria rose and took some money from her purse to leave on the table. Then she began to walk with the man, her stomach churning the farther they got from the cafe.

The streets were so normal, but the white sands of the beach were mostly empty. A few women watched children playing, and a man walked out of the sea wearing scuba gear. Here and there, towels dotted the beach and foreign tourists lay in the sun. Europeans, mostly, since Americans wouldn’t come to Qu’rim these days.

Victoria kept an eye on her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. When they rounded a corner, a car sat at the curb. A door opened and a man stepped out. She didn’t recognize him. Her stomach tightened with fear, and she ground to a halt.

The man who’d been walking with her stopped and turned to look at her. “You must get in the car, miss.”

She clutched her purse in front of her like a shield. She had a pistol in it because she was incapable of going anywhere unarmed these days.

“Not until you let me speak with my sister.”

He frowned. “This is not permitted. We will drive you to her. Then you may speak as much as you wish.”

A bad feeling swirled in Victoria’s gut. “What’s the difference? Call her now and let me verify this is what she wants me to do. If so, I’ll go with you without complaint.”

The man’s face grew dark with anger. “You do not give orders to me, woman. I say what
you
will do, and you
will
do it. That is the plan.”

Victoria took a step backward. She wanted to see Emily very badly, but this didn’t feel right. And she’d spent too much time working for Ian Black not to follow her instincts.

“Then I won’t see her today. I’ve changed my mind.”

The man took a step toward her, but the sound of a pistol cocking drew her attention to the one who’d stepped out of the car. The black barrel of a Russian Makarov PM pointed at her heart.

“Get in the car, Miss Royal,” the man said. “But first, throw your purse on the ground.”

*
 
*
 
*

Victoria was wedged between the two men in the back of the car. After she’d dropped her purse, they’d shoved her into the car and taken off. She was still trying to figure out how to disarm the one with the pistol pressed to her ribs when the car screeched to a stop.

The man who’d collected her from the cafe let out a stream of angry Arabic. Victoria didn’t speak the language, but she’d picked up a few words here and there after being in the country for the past few months.

Her captors seemed to want to know why they’d stopped. Definitely not a good sign. But then they took off again, and the tension in the car dropped. No one spoke, and then the man she thought of as Cafe Man got a phone call.

He answered in clipped tones. A few seconds later, he tucked the phone into a pocket and said something to the driver. The car veered left and then sped along a highway with very little traffic. After a few more minutes, they whipped off the highway and down a road, toward the sea. Victoria’s heart pounded, but she told herself to remain alert. If there was a chance to get the gun—or get away—she would take it.

The car drove beneath a bridge and halted. The men got out and dragged her with them. The big man with the gun shoved her and she stumbled forward. When she turned, he was pointing the gun at her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Royal, but you will not see your sister this day,” Cafe Man told her.
 

“Why?” she said, her stomach churning with acid. “Why kill me when all I want is to talk to Emily?”