Out of Sight (22 page)

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Authors: Cherry Adair

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Terrorism

BOOK: Out of Sight
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"Apparently the only way in and out." Kane scanned the treetops narrow-eyed. There appeared to be no roads entering the massive oasis.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of any troops, either.

No sign of life. No sound of human habitation. Still… "He's here." Just a feeling, but its effect was so strong, it was as powerful as a stare from an unknown source, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Hell, yes, he's here," Kane agreed. "This discovery is new, fresh, important. You can bet there's someone, several someones, damn important down there." He pointed. "That looks like it might be a hotel."

"Yeah. My guess, too." AJ swiped her arm over her sweaty face. "They expect a lot of tourists, apparently."

"Let's go. We're going to drag our butts in the front door and act surprised when we bump into him. Car broke down. Didn't think it was too far to the next village. Walked—et cetera, et cetera."

AJ raised a brow. "He'll think we're morons, or be really suspicious."

"And you care… why?"

"Good point."

Just seeing the various shades of green made her feel cooler. Hell, her legs felt lighter, too, as they slid and stumbled their way down the dune in a cascade of rose-tinted sand. They weren't attempting to hide, which made it a lot easier to move. Until they reached the oasis, they were out in front of God and everyone as they slithered their way down the dune.

When they finally reached the bottom and level ground, they moved toward the tree-surrounded water like zombies.

"Amazing anything can grow out here, isn't it?" AJ asked in awe as they approached the tree line.

"Given water, plants will thrive anywhere. Did you notice there's no cultivation? No crops?"

"Those over there look like olive trees."

"Yeah, and look how old they are. Probably planted thousands of years ago for whichever pharaoh was buri—Company," he said under his breath.

She'd seen them. The three men stepped from the shadows. Wearing Western dress, they were well accessorized. Locked and loaded.

"Hope these are the good guys," AJ said sotto voce.

Kane stopped, and AJ followed suit. They lowered their weapons as the men approached. As they did so, several more men came in from the sides and flanked them. A total of fifteen heavily armed men. Perfect. Just freaking perfect.

"Hands up." The tall man in the lead said flatly, motioning them with the business end of an Ml6. He had military-short, white-blond hair, a sunburned, craggy face, and a neck like a prizefighter. "Keep your hands where we can see them at all times." The guy scowled. "Now, who the fuck are you, and what have you done to our communication systems?"

Kane let his hands drop, but kept them in plain sight. He quickly I.D.ed himself and AJ as T-FLAC operatives. The man talking to him I.D.ed himself as Barry Walsh, head of the Secret Service. Once he'd studied their I.D.s for what seemed like forever, Walsh handed them back.

They shook hands. Nice and polite. "Jesus." Kane looked behind the men, expecting to see the President of the United States strolling from among the date palms. "The President is here?"

"And Mrs.," Walsh said grimly. He motioned his men to stand down. "We have a situation here. Hope to hell you two came in some sort of vehicle. Nothing around here is operable."

"We walked in," Kane told him. "Can we get to cover before we talk?"

"Yeah. This way."

Walsh's men surrounded them, and they all merged into the shade of the trees.

"The U.N. is having a hush-hush world peace summit at the new resort." Walsh motioned behind him.

"First time in history this many world leaders have gathered in one place at the same time. Frankly, we—" he glanced around as if checking to make sure no one could overhear him, "—all the security personnel—were flat-out against it. Too many things to go wrong, the isolation, the fact that the only approach is by air. Having all the eggs in one convenient basket—Fuck. Was whoever thought this up smoking crack, or what?"

Kane nodded in sympathy. He'd dealt with the big shots before and wasn't surprised. "And nobody listened to you."

"They listened," Walsh admitted, "but
our
reasons for saying no were
their
reasons for thinking it was a swell idea." He grimaced. "We've all had our own people out here for months, testing security, et cetera. The hotel's clean. Every leader has their own people. Top of the line. The best in the business. Everything was set. Coordinated to a hair. Nothing was going to go wrong. Nothing." He shoved one hand over his hair and muttered a curse.

"Everything went like silk. Until the khamsin blew in. Everything electrical, mechanical—shit, anything with a fucking moving part—shut off. Blackout. We're not sure yet why it's out, but everything still is." He narrowed his gaze on Kane. "So, I talked. Spill it. What do you know? Why are you here?"

"Fazur Raazaq," Kane told Walsh and his men flatly.

One of Barry's guys straightened as if he'd been shot. He leaned down and whispered something that Kane couldn't catch, but it had Barry's eyes narrowing farther. As word spread back to the other guys, they crowded closer, some of them keeping a wary eye out on the surrounding desert, but most of them moving close enough to hear Kane's news.

"Bloody hell." A man sat down beside Barry. "Ian Graham, MI5," he said, jerking Kane and AJ a quick nod. "How could Fazur Raazaq possibly have access to something with this level of classification? He'd have to have moles all over the bloody world to find out about this gathering."

"You can bet the bank that information will be revealed in time. But the breach of security isn't our problem," Kane reminded the men. "Deactivating Raazaq is."

"He's in possession of that virus stolen from the Russians last week," AJ said tautly. "And he's here now, so that must mean he's planning to release the viral agent in the hotel. Either to use the world leaders as leverage, or to kill them in one quick stroke."

"Fuck that for a joke!" Walsh snapped. "He isn't touching the President!"

"Or the Prime Minister," Graham said flatly. "We'll protect our people no matter what. But there've been no overt threats as yet. We all simply seem to be trapped here."

Walsh scowled. "We sent several teams on foot to get reinforcements. You must've passed at least one."

"They didn't make it," Kane informed him. He filled them in on the group they'd come across earlier.

"Fuck—Excuse me, ma'am. What the
hell
is going on?"

"First things first." Kane took charge. "How many of your people have desert survival training?"

"Not enough," Ian admitted.

"Then we need to give another batch some intense training, ASAP," Kane said. "Someone has to meet the troops and give them whatever we have. Which at this point is precisely nothing. You can bet that as we speak every SEAL, Ranger, Spec Ops person in the free world is on their way in. They couldn't be that far behind us."

"Without a doubt," Walsh said with some satisfaction. "But Raazaq isn't going to hold off whatever he's planning until help arrives. He's going to do whatever it is he's going to do before he can be stopped. He's a wily little bastard. Seems to have planned this to a T."

Kane nodded tightly. "Bastards screw up all the time. We'll flush him out. But I'd feel one hell of a lot better having Hazmat, medics, and transportation standing by."

"Wouldn't we all," Barry said dryly. "Shall we get some caterers in here while we're at it?"

Kane smiled tightly. "Point taken. Nobody's coming. Not for a while yet, anyway. So we do what we can."

"Agreed."

"I'll go with the team heading back into the desert." AJ stepped forward.

The fact that she was a woman didn't seem to faze Walsh. "Good id—"

"No," Kane told her. "You have to be here. Raazaq will respond to your presence."

"Then you have to g—"

"I'll be here with you. Who do you trust?" he asked Walsh.

"Brody, Todd, Dixon."

Ian spoke up, too. "I can send Doyle, Smythe, and Tennyson."

AJ smiled. "The poet?"

Ian smiled back. "He's a poet, all right. And his muse is an M16."

"Is he prepared for the desert?" Kane wanted to know.

"No one is prepared for the desert, mate. But they'd better make it."

Walsh stood up. "Covert or overt for your arrival?"

"We've met Raazaq. And unless we keep AJ hidden for the duration, he'll know she's here. We'll go overt and draw him out."

They started walking toward the hotel. It was blessedly cool beneath the thick foliage of the date palms, and thick grasses and weeds grew with lush profusion.

"Tell us who's here."

"The President and First Lady The P.M. of England, the Queen, too, no less. One of the Saudi princes. Queen Sofia of Spain—"

"Jesus."

"Exactly."

Raazaq was definitely here. Kane described him. But Graham told them there were over five hundred people in residence at the hotel. As soon as they'd realized that nothing electrical worked, that no vehicle or plane operated, each security team had confined their people to their quarters. Unaware of where the danger was coming from had kept the teams on high, red alert.

Food tasters. No air-conditioning, which was making tempers flare. "You wanna tell the President he can't go outside?"

"Perhaps out is where he should be, "AJ said, with a frown.

"We considered it. Can't keep them secure outside. In is better," Walsh said. "But I gotta tell you, everyone is getting stir-crazy."

Graham sent one of his men for food and water for them while they formulated a plan.

Walsh and a few of his men were the only ones with weapons.

As soon as Raazaq and his key people had arrived, the guests had been thrown into chaos as his soldiers searched every room, every bit of luggage, and stripped everyone of their firearms. No exceptions. Even the cutlery had been purged of knives. The slightest reluctance to give up their weapons had been grounds for immediate death. The body count was high. Over two hundred security personnel had given their lives in an attempt at fighting back. But eventually everyone had given up their weapons. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

Until Kane and AJ had told them who it was, Walsh and his men had speculated that this was a hostage situation.

Now they were all on the same page.

Kane quickly distributed the weapons he and AJ carried, not enough for everyone, but better than nothing. With something akin to pain, she watched one of the men pick up her Dragunov. "It pulls a bit to the left," she told him, handing him the clips.

"I'll take good care of it, ma'am. And I'll make sure you get it back when this is over."

"Thanks." She gave him a smile that made the man turn red and had his eyes glazing, then turned to Kane. "Do we have—?"

He patted the duffel. "Got it covered. Let's go over the plan one more time."

It made sense for them to arrive as though they were unaware of anything wrong. Their vehicle had broken down, they'd walked—all true. Raazaq might be tempted to make contact with AJ. If not, he'd be aware of her presence and keep hidden, making his discovery more difficult.

Graham's man returned with bread and cheese and a gallon jug of fresh water. They all ate while discussing the feasibility of Kane and AJ entering through the front door or the back.

According to Walsh, most of the people in residence at the hotel were the extensive household and security staff of the heads of state attending.

"We have 216 special-forces personnel. Broken into teams. Four teams of six left at thirty-minute intervals to walk out. Another group of blokes are tinkering with planes and vehicles. Christ, I'd get my people out on a bloody donkey if I could find one." Ian glared at the surrounding desert.

"Will your people recognize Raazaq?" Kane asked the men.

"Hell," Walsh frowned, "I've seen a dozen grainy photographs of him over the years, but I'd never recognize him in the flesh. He could be anyone in there."

"AJ and I can both finger him. We'll walk in the front door. AJ'll flush him out. She's our best bet. Sharpshooter A-1."

"Is that so?" Walsh checked her out.

Kane grabbed another couple of sandwiches, handed one absently to AJ, then took a bite of his own. "All we have to do is make contact. In the meantime I want everyone alerted to the upgrade in danger. We have to move them out of the hotel and environs—"

"Take everyone out into that?" Ian interrupted him and waved an arm at the desert that could kill so mercilessly. "Are you mad, man? I'm not dragging Her Majesty across the bloody Western Desert. Can you imagine? Can't leave her here, can't get her out. Isn't a bloody thing that moves. Two chaps have already died. Their pacemakers froze up and they dropped like rocks."

Kane swallowed the dry sandwich and chased it with two long glugs of warm water. "What's the status with the hotel staff?"

"Contained in the basement, poor chaps. Bloody hot down there."

"The hotel's chief of security is cooperating fully, and keeping the panic down as best he can."

"Where can we meet later?" Kane asked the two men.

"I'll have to find you."

"Right." Who knew where any of them would be later.

They separated—the men, in teams of two, melted back between the trees.

A ransom could net Raazaq a fortune. Some of the countries would pay. But none of them, particularly the U.S., was going to tolerate whatever that bastard had planned after this. Whatever
this
was.

"Someone spent a fortune on this place," AJ commented. "Look at it."

They started walking down the palm-lined driveway. The resort hotel was an exact replica of the pyramid slightly behind it. Blinding white stone, gold leaf on the pillars and capitals. Fountains and lush gardens.

Birdsong filled the air, and splashing water from lazily turning, decorative waterwheels provided a backdrop to their footsteps. A small flock of sheep lazily grazed on the foliage ringing the circular emerald-green lawn in the front courtyard.

There wasn't a human in sight.

"This is creepy." AJ glanced around. "Reminds me of a
Twilight Zone
episode."

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