No Turning Back (15 page)

“They came through this door.”

Luke strode over and opened it, examined the dented metal and splintered lock. “Kicked it in.” He studied the ground a moment. “Assault boots.”

Sam's gaze went to the ruined door and the boot prints embedded in the dirt beyond the threshold, imagining someone kicking the door with such force they dented it. She wrapped her arms around herself. God, how terrified Nev must have been.

“Any new information about the attackers?” Luke asked.

The Afghan shook his head. “Nothing other than what the police have released. Witnesses said they drove off to the northeast.”

Toward the tribal regions in the mountains and the border with Pakistan, Sam thought. Nev and the other captives could be anywhere in that rugged terrain. How were they ever going to find them before the deadline passed? What would happen if they didn't? If Luke's theory was right and Tehrazzi had done this to get to him, then she was responsible for what happened to Nev. It was her fault her cousin had been abducted. Her fault Nev was being held captive and facing an uncertain fate, maybe death, in any number of hideous methods.

Sam glanced up when Ben laid a hand on her shoulder, surprised to see they were alone. She'd been staring so intently at the ruined door she hadn't noticed Luke and the others leave the room.

“Come on,” he said gently, “let's go.”

He guided her out to the front entrance with a hand on the small of her back. The gesture was reassuring and commanding at the same time. All the same, she was grateful for the warmth of his palm and the anchor his touch provided. Seeing the crime scene had shaken her more than she would have believed possible.

“Nev wouldn't have made it easy for them,” she said to him, fighting the burn of tears. “I bet she put up one hell of a fight.”

Ben rubbed his thumb across her spine. “From the looks of that room, I'm sure she did.”

This was good. She needed to focus on how strong her cousin was. Nev was physically and mentally tough. She'd weathered medical school and years of residency in a male-dominated environment, so she wasn't easily intimidated. She was incredibly intelligent and resourceful. If anyone could get through captivity, Nev could.

Sam blinked when the sunlight hit her eyes as they exited the building and headed straight to the vehicle where Luke was holding the door open for her. His fathomless gaze rested on hers as she approached.

“Doin’ all right?” he asked.

Even after working for him all this time, he was a complete enigma to her. He could turn his emotions on and off like a switch, and she never knew which side of him would appear in any given situation. Like right now, he was still the consummate professional, but he was letting her know he was concerned about her.

“Fine,” she answered, because it was the expected response, and climbed into the backseat next to Rhys, who gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. She returned the pressure and pulled away, linking her hands tightly in her lap so as not to betray her emotional turmoil.

As Ben slid into the seat next to her, the engine whined to life, and the driver sped back toward the city center. Minutes later, they pulled up to a heavily guarded compound that housed some government buildings.

“Where are we?” she asked.

Luke handed over his ID to the armed guard at the gatehouse, flicked a glance at her. “Remember Hank Miller?”

The CIA station chief she'd met in Paris. “Sure.”

The corner of Luke's mouth went up. “He got transferred to Kabul.”

“Oh.” Goodie. What a happy reunion this was going to be. When she'd first met him in Paris and told him she was going to work for Luke, his treatment of her had gone from friendly and professional to clipped and closed-mouthed in the blink of an eye. Miller resented Luke with the most severe case of sour grapes Sam had ever seen.

Luke not only had the adoration of the Special Ops world and the CIA, he had the job Miller really wanted, out in the field tracking terrorists instead of reading cables about it. To make things worse, as a contractor Luke operated with considerable flexibility, able to cut through all kinds of bureaucratic bullshit and do what he wanted more often than not, while Miller was stuck following rigid protocol and spinning in place like a hamster on a wheel.

She eyed Luke doubtfully. “You think he'll be of any help to us?” If Neveah was further endangered because of friction between the two men, Sam would lose it.

A dry chuckle escaped him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The sparkle in them betrayed a hint of the warmth she'd come to know. “Only one way to find out.”

She tensed. He'd said those exact words to her the day she'd come to him with her suspicions about Fahdi. Look how
that
had turned out.

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Ben asked in Luke's wake, nudging her along in front of him.

“You'll see soon enough,” she muttered and trudged along. They went inside and took the stairs to the fourth floor, then to the office at the end of the hall. Once admitted, Luke strode in like he owned the place, and Sam reluctantly went in behind him to see what would happen.

Miller was stretched out behind his desk, hands behind his head. “Well, well. And here I thought you were dead all these years.”

“How you doing, Hank?” asked Luke.

Miller's shrewd blue eyes held a cool glint. “Never better.” He glanced at her. “Miss Wallace. How nice to see you again.”

“Thank you. I wish it could be under better circumstances.”

“Yes, I understand you and your cousin were close.”

Are close, she corrected mentally. “Closer than sisters, sir.” Her phone beeped, and she groped awkwardly through the folds of her robe to retrieve it.

While Luke and Hank talked business, she checked the incoming e-mail, aware Ben was watching her. She clicked on the file, frowning at the unfamiliar sender name. As she read the message, a shock jolted her. Her fingers froze around the device.

I have a job for you. You will meet with one of my contacts tonight. Alone. You will take the money he gives you and deliver it to another man in Kabul. Fail to complete the mission or bring anyone to the meetings, and your cousin will die while you watch.

The two names and address for the delivery blurred for a moment. The kidnappers, or Tehrazzi. Was this the meeting the note had told her about? How would they know—

Ben popped his gum, and she glanced up into his face. “I... ”

“What's wrong?” he demanded, and took the phone from her numb fingers. Rhys peered over his brother's shoulder, and Luke and Miller stopped talking. They all watched her as Ben read the e-mail. When he lifted his gaze, his pale green eyes seared her face. “How the hell do they know you're already here?”

“I don't know,” she said defensively. “I don't know who sent it.” Her gaze darted around. Someone had to be watching them, following them. They were standing in the middle of a guarded, reinforced building, but were they really safe here?

“Let me see,” Luke said, and took it from him.

She gnawed on her lower lip and waited for Luke to say something. “Think it's from Nev's kidnappers, or Tehrazzi?”

He handed the phone to Miller, whose brows shot up beneath his carefully styled bangs. “Could be either,” the station chief allowed. “Either of those names in the message familiar to you?”

She shook her head. “Should they be?”

“I hope not.” His gaze slid from Luke to her. “The first one's a big time drug trafficker in a group linked to Al-Qaeda. Second's an arms dealer for the Taliban we've been trying to nab for two years.” His eyes narrowed. “What the hell's going on?”

They didn't believe her. Their stares weighed on her until a greasy film of sweat coated her body. Her heart clattered against her ribs. “I-I don't know... ” God, she sounded pathetic and helpless. “Maybe they're testing to see if I'll comply.” In despair, she looked to Ben. Was she actually going to have to go through with this and meet with those men alone? “Ben?” Her voice wobbled precariously.

“Take her outside,” Luke said to him. “Give her a minute.”

Ben took her by the hand and tugged her out the door. He shut it and faced her, and she immediately started babbling, intent on making him believe her.

“I swear I haven't done anything wrong, and I haven't been in contact with them. I don't know who sent that, but— am I going to have to do it? They said I have to go alone or they'll kill Nev. I have to meet with a drug trafficker and an arms dealer. My God, how do I know they won't just kill me and then Nev anyway?”

“Stop.” He took her by the shoulders, gave a tiny shake. “Calm down.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, fighting back the edge of fear.

“There's no way Luke would send you out to do this alone.”

Her eyes snapped open. “So I do have to go?”

“I don't think you've got much choice, Sam.”

A cold knot formed in her belly. How was she supposed to run a wad of cash through a poor area of Kabul at night, deliver it to those kinds of men, and live to tell about it?

“But it said they'd kill Nev if anyone went with me.”

“We're all Special Ops trained,” Ben reminded her. “We can be close enough to give you protection and still stay invisible.”

Maybe. But did he believe she hadn't had previous contact with the kidnappers about this? “I just want my cousin safe,” she whispered miserably.

His expression softened. “I know.” He slid his palms down her arms and took her hands between his, rubbed them to get them warm.

The door opened. Rhys stuck his head out and looked at her. “You okay?”

She forced herself to nod.

“They've got more intel.”

She glanced up at Ben, hardly able to believe this was happening.

“Come on. Let's find out what the deal is.”

Her legs were stiff as she went in and faced Luke and Miller, appearing strangely at ease with each other since she'd last seen them.

Luke held her gaze. “We've just spoken with a DEA agent stationed here who's been after the first contact for a long time. He's big. Bigger than anyone else in Kabul, with a loyal following. He'll be heavily guarded, lots of electronic eyes and ears. As far as we know, he's never dealt with Tehrazzi before. But the second contact has.” His gaze was frigid as he maintained eye contact. “He's Tehrazzi's main supplier in Afghanistan.”

“So Tehrazzi sent the message?”

“According to early analysis, yes.”

Sam closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, she glanced between him and Miller, still seated behind his desk. “So what, I'm supposed to go waltzing through Kabul with a suitcase of cash all by myself?”

“Essentially,” Miller answered. He steepled his fingers together. “Whoever goes with you will have to stay out of sight, and the only way for us to know what's going on in the meeting is to either send a translator along, which isn't an option, or plant a bug on you.”

“No way,” she blurted instantly. “If they strip or sweep me, they'll kill me and my cousin for sure.”

“Not if they don't find it,” Luke said.

She made a scoffing noise. “And where do you suggest I hide it?”

“You're the expert, Sam. I bet you'll come up with something.”

She stared at him. “Starting from scratch in less than five hours?”

“I'll help you,” Ben said.

She glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise.

He offered an encouraging smile. “Two heads are better than one, right?”

“Yes, but— ”

“Hank will see to it you get whatever supplies you need,” Luke added. “Tell him what you want so you can get started while the rest of us come up with a security plan.”

This was a nightmare. Not only did she have to pull this off, she had to come up with her own surveillance device that couldn't be detected by pros. And the clock was ticking.

“Okay.” She ran her hands through her dyed hair and tried to clear her head enough to decide what supplies she'd need. The transmitter would have to be tiny— ideally something that could fit into a piece of clothing that seemed ordinary. A button, maybe. They would almost certainly sweep her, so it would have to be composed of non-metallic components.

Would they strip her as Ben had done? Perhaps not, if they were devout Muslims. She could try to hide it in her hair, but that seemed too obvious. Jewelry was out. So were her shoes. That left internal insertion, and while she would do it, she didn't have time to come up with something complex enough to pick up sound through that kind of interference.

About the only thing she could think of was her underwear. Most of her stuff had bows or some other kind of embellishment on them. What was she wearing? She pulled the robe out from her body and took a peek down her shirt. Black bra, fastened in back. Could she hide something in the closure or in the underwire? Maybe, but it wouldn't conceal the device well enough.

The thing did have a tiny crystal nestled between the cups, though. It was round, and just smaller than a pea. Could work if she camouflaged it well and the components were mostly plastic.

“Need some help?”

She twisted her head around to look at Ben, sent him a glare when she saw his wolfish expression. “I'm contemplating the possibilities of where to put the thing,” she snapped.

“Yeah, that's why I offered to help.”

It was sweet of him to try to distract her, but now was not the time. Still, his boyish grin almost had her smiling in response. “Not funny.” Her mind made up, she listed the required items off to Miller, who wrote them down and got on the phone.

“And I'll need a workspace with good lighting,” she finished.

He covered the mouthpiece. “You can use the boardroom down the hall. I'll have someone bring you everything.”

“What about you?” she asked Ben.

“I'll stay here until we've figured out what's going to happen, then I'll come help you.”

More than an hour later, Ben turned away from the computer screen to watch Sam working across the table. She expertly wielded a pair of needle nose pliers, her brows pulled together in a frown of intense concentration behind the magnification goggles she wore.