Ignited (Titanium Security Series) (15 page)

Youssef did
not
want to get into that vehicle. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s face hardened. “Get in.”
Or else I’ll make you regret it.
His voice and body language made that clear.

Youssef cast a desperate glance up and down the street, finding it almost empty. A few other cars passed by without noticing his plight. He wasn’t close enough to an alleyway to try to escape into the shadows.

Feeling like his legs were made of lead, he took a tentative step forward, watching the man’s hands. If he made a move to draw his gun, Youssef would take the risk and run. But the man didn’t move anything except his eyes as he tracked Youssef’s approach to the vehicle.

At the back door he paused again. There was no one else inside, save the driver who stared straight ahead without looking back at him. A hard hand between his shoulders pushed him into the vehicle. Reluctantly he slid inside and the door slammed shut behind him. He flashed out a hand to try the door handle but it wouldn’t open. They’d locked him in.

The sense of panic increased tenfold when the man with the gun climbed into the front passenger seat and the driver shot them away from the curb. His heart beat so fast he felt sick.

“Who are you?” Youssef asked again.

“Your escorts,” was all he got.

“Where are you taking me? What do you want?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Fear curdled in his belly. They didn’t speak to him all the way across town and into the industrial section of the city. At a section of warehouses they passed several mechanical shops and garages. Then the driver took another turn into the parking lot of a darkened building that appeared abandoned. He pulled up to the rolling bay door and shut the engine off. Youssef had only a moment longer to worry before the man in the passenger seat was at his door.

It opened. “Step out.”

He did, his breathing now fast and shallow. The windows of the building were dark and there was no one else around. No one to hear him if he screamed for help.

Too late for that.
The thought made his knees go weak.

“This way.”

Watching the man’s hands as he shadowed him, Youssef had no choice but to follow the driver to the rolling bay door. It rolled up with a loud metallic rattle to expose nothing but a gaping maw of blackness.

“Go inside.”

He stopped. “Alone?”

“You won’t be alone for long.” Something in the man’s tone made a shiver crawl up his spine.

Youssef reluctantly entered the bay, senses on alert. The steel door rolled shut and he was swallowed by darkness. He whirled to his left when a light flicked on overhead, bathing the room with a harsh blue-white light. There was no one there.

“Youssef.”

He swallowed a yelp and spun around. A well built middle aged man dressed in a business suit stood in the far doorway. He had short black hair that thinned on top and a neatly trimmed goatee.

“Please, sit.” The man indicated a metal chair placed in the center of the cavernous room.

Youssef’s stomach rolled. My God, were they going to interrogate him? Torture him in here until he gave some sort of confession? Sweat broke out across his face.

One side of the man’s mouth turned up in amusement. “Sit.”

Shaking inside, Youssef sat, never taking his eyes off the man. He didn’t dare speak. Who was this intimidating man and who did he work for? Some government agency?

The man spoke to him in perfect English. His voice was low and calm, as if he did this sort of thing every day. “You’ve had a lot of interesting conversations over the past few months.”

Youssef blanched. Shit, they knew. He’d been so careful to hide his tracks, he wasn’t sure how they’d found out. Who were these guys? Military? ISI? Or maybe they were working for the Americans. Either way, he was in serious trouble and didn’t know what to do.

The man walked toward him, each footstep ringing off the concrete floor and echoing through the empty space. He stopped a few feet away and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at Youssef with an unreadable expression that increased the shaking inside him. “Nothing to say to that?”

He wasn’t going to utter a word without having a lawyer here. Unless they started torturing him. His stomach pitched in a violent roll. Would they kill him?

“No matter,” the man continued, his bearing shouting of time in the military or some other position of power. “We know who you’ve been talking to. We know everything about you.”

Youssef fidgeted restlessly in his chair. Unable to take the strain any more, he blurted, “What do you want?”

The man’s black eyes sliced over to him. “To deliver a message.”

He couldn’t imagine what sort of message this man had for him. Thinking frantically of what to say, he opened his mouth to speak but the man cut him off.

“The operation today was a failure.”

He snapped his mouth shut. So there had been an attack at the school?

“Your friends did not fare well, I’m afraid. They not only failed to take the school or inflict any casualties, most of them were either killed or seriously wounded in the attack.”

Despite the growing fear, a wave of disappointment washed through him. He managed to find his voice, unsteady as it was. “I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

The man’s cold smile was terrifying. “Don’t you?”

No.
At least, he hoped not.

His interrogator took another step closer. Youssef instinctively leaned back in the chair. “The Taliban thought you important enough to consult with, so naturally that caught our attention. You not only speak perfect English, but your cover is ideal. No criminal record, graduated with honors from university, working at a sought after engineering firm here in Islamabad. And you’re eager to help TTP’s extremist agenda. I can see why they saw you as useful.” He tilted his head slightly, measuring him with those deep set black eyes. “Just as I’m sure you will be of great use to us.”

The words sent a chill racing up his spine.

Youssef now understood what this meeting was about. He’d just gone from being a casual observer on the sidelines of this war to being thrown between the front lines in no man’s land, and there was no escape.

Youssef swallowed and closed his eyes. He was nothing more than a pawn now. Expendable. And he didn’t know which side would be the one to sacrifice him, his friends or his enemies.

Chapter Nine

The sound of the gunfire was terrifying, but it was the sudden silence that filled Khalia’s veins with ice. A deathly stillness now engulfed the underground shelter as everyone held their breath. Only a single dim emergency light shone in the far corner, casting shadows on the rear walls. The front half of the enclosure was swallowed in blackness, increasing the sense of claustrophobia.

Khalia clutched the little girl, Aisha, to her chest, struggling to stay calm in the suffocating tension. Everyone was totally still, afraid to move. She cut a glance ahead at Ray, who stared up at the trap door that led to the emergency shelter that had been built at her father’s insistence. The end of the firefight meant one of two things. Either Hunter and the others had eradicated the threat, or the Taliban had overwhelmed them and were coming to kill them next.

Khalia swallowed hard. There was no place for them to go. Nowhere to hide but here.

Hold it together. The girls are looking to you for a sense of security.

Her radio squawked, startling her and several others around her. “Khalia, you copy?”

The sound of Hunter’s voice made her sag in relief. She set Aisha beside her and fumbled with her robe to get the radio out. Her fingers were icy as she keyed it to respond. “I’m here.”

“We’re coming to get you. Be ready to move fast.”

“Okay.” Did that mean the Taliban were still out there? She knew better than to ask. Everyone was staring at her with anxious eyes as she conveyed the message to Zaid. He translated for her and the adults got the girls organized. It seemed like a long time before someone finally pounded on the top of the trap door. Khalia had no idea what they’d find on the other side of it. Some of those explosions had been big, large enough to shake the ground and rain dust and dirt down on them in the shelter.

Ray unlocked the door and an instant later someone wrenched it open from above. Squinting against the sudden flood of light, Khalia recognized Hunter standing in the opening, bathed in the sun’s dying rays. Relief punched through her system at the sight of him, a gorgeous, lethal warrior here to save them.

He dropped into the opening with the agility of a cat and took in the scene with a single sweeping glance before his gaze came to rest on her. “You okay?”

She swallowed. His face and clothing were covered in dirt, but no blood that she could see. The hot ball of tension in her gut eased slightly. “Yes. Are you?”

“Fine.” He motioned to Zaid to come forward. “We’re going to bring the girls out in groups, starting with the oldest ones. A teacher will escort them with some of our men to the Pakistani army vehicles waiting half a klick from here. They’ll make sure they get home to their families okay.”

And then what? she wanted to demand. The military would escort them home and just pull out again? These people needed protection, not an escort. She barely held the words back. Now wasn’t the time for an argument like that and she knew it was the government’s fault, not Hunter’s.

As everyone started moving toward the exit, Aisha tightened her arms around Khalia and whimpered. “Shhh,” Khalia soothed, rocking her slightly from side to side. “It’s all right.” It had to be all right. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to these girls because of her or the foundation.

“Khalia.”

She whipped her head up to find Hunter staring at her, face grave. “There are things out there the girls are better off not seeing,” he said. “Do what you can to distract them, or at least shield their view north of the school.”

Bodies. He meant there were dead bodies out there. But whose? She wanted to ask if all of his men were okay but didn’t get the chance because he was already helping the first teacher climb the steel ladder to the trap door opening. Khalia kept the group moving toward him, filing into a line. When it was Aisha’s turn, her little arms suddenly constricted around Khalia’s neck like a vise. Giving her a reassuring squeeze, Khalia shifted the child from her hip to her front until Aisha’s legs wrapped around her waist, then moved toward the ladder. Hunter was waiting for her at the bottom of it.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he told her, looking her straight in the eye. His calmness took the edge off the panic swirling in her chest. Aisha’s palpable fear pushed her into action.

Go. Hurry.

She began to climb, thankful for the initial boost of Hunter’s strong hands on her back. At the top she struggled to get her footing with the long robe and Aisha encumbering her. One of the men from the other team noticed and grabbed her by the forearm to haul her upward, then gave her a push toward the others. The headmistress emerged behind her, then Hunter cleared the opening and secured the hidden door before turning back to them, rifle held in front of his body in a practiced grip.

“Head west with the others,” he called out, his gaze moving restlessly across the surrounding terrain.

She couldn’t help but look around, relieved when she didn’t see anyone charging at them, brandishing a weapon. Walking faster, she kept one hand on the back of Aisha’s head to prevent her from seeing the carnage up ahead and broke into a jog.