Out Of The Night (12 page)

“You might as well kill me. If I talk
, I’m a dead man.”

Tony nodded to the body on the floor. “Not if you’re smart. You can blame it on your dead friend.”

He practically saw the man’s brain looking for a way out. “I received a call from a Russian. I don’t know his name, but he’s ex-KGB.”

“Must be Viktor.” Tony released the guy
, and he slumped to the floor. “Have you ever seen me before today?”

The man shook his head.

Tony stood to leave the room. Then he turned just as the guy pulled a gun from his waistband. Tony threw the knife and stabbed him in the chest. “Sorry, I knew you had the gun, and I knew you’d use it.”

Disgusted, he turned and left the two dead men on the floor and joined Abby near the restaurant.

“I’m not sure we’re safe here.” He took Abby’s arm and headed toward the exit. “I ran into two of Viktor’s guys in the men’s room. I think he sent more to take us out.”

They stepped out into the scorching heat and with their warmer Russian clothes, the hot sun would soon have them sweating like crazy. Tony hailed a cab and instructed the driver to a destination close to another safe house. They needed rest and a chance to make plans.

After exiting the cab, they walked several blocks to the safe house. Once there, Tony quickly checked it out then turned to Abby with a scarf in his hand. “Put that on your head and let’s go.”

Swinging the fabric over her head, her worried eyes widened. “Where?” She hurried to catch up. “We just got here.”

“It’s time we become proactive. I’m not sitting around waiting for my memory to come back.”

“But you promised Mac you wouldn’t do anything foolish.”

“I’m not, but I have a few connections in this part of the world, and I’m going to find them and get to the truth.”

She reached for his arm and electricity snapped from her touch. “With all these people trying to kill you, do you think that’s wise?”

He tried to ignore the effect she had on him. “I’m not the kind of man who can wait for death to strike. I’d rather meet it head on.” He walked toward the door then looked back. “If you’d like to stay here, I understand.”

“Hell, no. I’m better off with you than I am without you.”

He searched the perimeter with expert eyes. Every face, every vehicle…nothing escaped his scrutiny. With the ease of a couple out for a stroll, they made their way to a shadier part of Cairo. The sights and sounds of the city enclosed him. The pungent smell of spices and fruits and vegetables from a nearby open food market filled the air.

Entering a local coffeehouse, Tony instructed her to sit at a table by the door. Smoke filled the room as men enjoyed their coffee served in glasses with small sprigs of mint on top. They reclined on pillows while smoking hookahs.

Tony nodded to the man behind the counter, and he came to their table.

The owner’s eyes darted about the room. “Why are you here in the middle of the day?” Dressed in the native garb and a diamond the size of his head on his pinky, Tony knew him as one of the most notorious thieves in the area.

“I need to know who kidnapped me at the airport three weeks ago and who has a CIA operative named Joe Mitchell.”

“I know nothing.”

“Well, I suggest you find out, or I’ll come back and this little shop will be the least of your worries.” Tony grabbed his hand and pulled the ring from his finger. “I’ll just hold this until I hear from you.

A loud gasp exploded from the man’s mouth. He reached out to retrieve his precious jew
el, but after a quick glance at Tony, he froze. “I will ask around.”

Tony took the informant by the sleeve. “I’m not fucking with you. I have half of Russia after me, and a man I essentially have to secure. Get off your ass and do something.”

After the brief conversation, Tony took Abby’s arm and they went to a popular restaurant on Talat Harb Street, near Tahrir, where he ordered falafel for them to enjoy outside on the patio. As they ate in silence, Tony watched the street and sidewalk traffic.

The man from the coffee shop rattled his memory, but he couldn’t shake loose the man’s name. He just knew by instinct that the man had information important to finding Joe. As his eyes roamed over the area, he knew this place like his home in Dallas, yet the small important things he needed to know skirted on the outside of his memory.

Abby put down her fork. “I wonder how anyone knows we’re here.”

Tony tossed down his napkin in disgust. “There are so many holes in this assignment I can’t imagine us pulling off anything. I don’t have a single lead on Mitchell. I don’t know how many guys Viktor has after me.” He smiled
. “And I’m exhausted.” He winked just to see her blush.

Her beauty, delicate and soft, had his heart racing like a freight train. Her scent wrapped around him like a warm blanket in winter.

He stretched his hand across the table and cupped her face. She looked elegant with the silk scarf enhancing her perfect complexion. How did he ever manage to get a woman so beautiful to fall in love with him? And why was he foolish enough to walk away?

Forcing his mind back to his assignment, he said, “Let’s get back to the safe house. We both need some rest
, and I want to get an early start tomorrow.”

As he tossed money on the table, his phone rang. A voice he recognized traveled into his ear. “How are you doing, Tony?”

Arman Malik may have been born in Pakistan, but he was raised in the United States. His uncle, a former high-ranking officer in Pakistan’s ISI, got him accepted in the United Kingdom’s MI6 where he worked in Section 6 of the Directorate of Military Intelligence. After ten years there, he came to work for Falcon.

Known to be fast and deadly, he also had
the ability to make anyone talk whether they wanted to or not. People in the Middle East held him in high regard. In this corner of the world, they respected Arman as a man not to be underestimated.

“I was just telling Abby
that for the first time in my life, I think I’m at a complete loss.” He blew out a tired breath. “Do you have anything?”

There was a long pause. “Maybe.”

“Right now, I’ll take a
maybe
.”

“I have a cousin who lives in Damascus
, and he told me a friend of his mentioned something about his neighbor.”

“I’m listening.”

“He says this neighbor has something or someone in his outdoor cellar.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“I’m in Baghdad right now. I’m heading to Damascus. Meet me there.”

“Abby Williams is traveling with me. Do you have a safe house?”

“Yes, and as long as she stays in the right attire, she’ll actually be an asset. In this region of the world, men don’t like to involve their women.”

“We’re on the next plane.”

“No, travel by car. It will be easier. I heard there are people waiting for you at the airport.”

“I’ve met them already
, but we’ll go overland. Israel won’t be a problem, but Jordan is always a little iffy.”

“I have a friend you will meet up with at the border. He’ll get you across
, but don’t leave until tomorrow when he will be at the checkpoint waiting for you.”

“We’ll meet you there.”
Tony ended the call.

“Are we going somewhere?”
Abby asked.

“Tomorrow.” He held out his hand. “For now we’re going to the safe house
to rest.”

“So far none of the
safe houses
have been safe.”

As she rose and took his hand
, he chuckled. “Isn’t life exciting as an agent?”

She frowned. “No.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Damascus

Joe Mitchell’s time was running out. He had no place to go and no way in hell to escape. He didn’t even know what country he was in. If they turned him loose right this minute, he had nothing on him that would save his ass.

The door opened and Hana walked in with his meal. The man now stood in the doorway with a gun. Joe didn’t dare speak for fear of getting her in trouble. He wouldn’t do that to her, but he did smile weakly to let her know he understood her situation.

When Hana left, Joe ate in silence. In the solitude his thoughts ran rampant and his fears grew. Soon el Jibar would come for him, torture him then kill him. So many people would be slaughtered because of him. Innocent lives would be sacrificed.

Joe stopped and dropped his spoon. He gathered the chain up in his hands. He looked up at the massive hook that secured his shackles. Anita came to his mind. Her beautiful face appeared before him. The family portrait above their mantel in Georgetown flashed in front of him. His two handsome sons.

He could think of only one way to contain the threat. He alone held the information el Jibar wanted
, so he could use it to destroy his country. As tears coursed down his face, Joe turned over his bucket and stood on it.

“God forgive me.” He took a long breath. “Anita
, my love.”

Closing his eyes
, he twisted the chain tightly around his neck. Using his spoon as a makeshift clasp so the cable couldn’t unravel, he then stepped off into a deep void.

Langley, Virginia

Bea Waters sat at her desk and watched her boss Brad Hall talk on the phone. No doubt he had his buddy, Senator Parker,
on the line. Those two were up to no good, and she didn’t like it one bit.

She did however, like Joe Mitchell and the thought of him being kidnapped and tortured kept her awake at night. He was a good family man
, and he knew how to treat those under him, as well as the big shots.

And now they had him caught in a trap. And without any evidence, Bea knew with every creak in her bones that Hall had something to do with Mitchell’s abduction.

No doubt, if she said anything they’d all accuse her of watching too many crime shows. Well, let them. They could do whatever they wanted, but she’d get to the truth or die trying.

Director Colanglo’s secretary, Karla Moore, walked over to
Bea’s desk. “Good morning, Bea. I was wondering if Brad has been advised of the new meeting time.”

“Yes, I put it on his desk first thing.”

Karla took the chair beside Bea’s desk. She wasn’t shocked by the twenty-five-year-old sitting with her. They were co-workers and enjoyed a very casual, yet professional, friendship. She and Karla didn’t do lunch or meet after work for a drink, but they were both good at their jobs.

Karla picked up Bea’s stapler and appeared to examine it for evidence or something. “I wonder what they’ve learned about Tony Archuletta.”

“I don’t know.”

“Vince seems really concerned.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Don’t you know Frank Hamilton’s secretary, Zoe?”

Bea turned around in her chair and stared at Karla. “Yes, I’ve worked on a few things with her before. She’s very nice.”

“Maybe you should call her and see if you can find out anything.”

Every red light in Bea’s body started flashing. So, Karla had an agenda too. Well, Tony Archuletta wasn’t anyone’s business, and Bea knew Zoe held the same work ethic she did. No information would be forthcoming from that mouth.

Bea leaned back. “If anyone has heard, it would be Zoe.”

Karla smiled. “Why don’t you give her a call and find out where he’s at?” She touched Bea’s arm. “I’d like to let Vince know he’s okay.”

Up your patootie, you scheming little tramp. After thirty-two years with the CIA
, Bea had a pretty good grasp on a person’s character, and right now, Karla Moore didn’t have any.

“I’ll do it right away and get back to you.”

As soon as Karla walked away, Bea walked over to the file room, swiped her top security clearance card, and went inside. Slipping on her glasses, she closed the door and went to Falcon Security’s transmissions. All should fear a little old lady with a suspicious mind, still sharp as a knife tip.

Tehran

Youssef sat in his house and studied the two men standing in front of him. Today
, preparations had been settled on transferring their prisoner from his current location to a warehouse for interrogations. No need to bring him back here. He wouldn’t live that long.

“Has everything been made ready for my arrival?” Youssef stroked his long beard and kept his gaze steady. “We are on the brink of great things. Allah has commanded we destroy America. As the Quran says, we must cleanse the world of all the infidels before there can be peace.
”

Ali Sarraf stepped forward and bowed. “We are honored to be with you in this time of great change.”

Faraj Nagi stood next to his friend. “America is weak, yet they think they rule the world and its people. Only Islam can protect true believers and send infidels to their deaths.”

Youssef took a sip of his tea. “My plane is ready to go. When you get to Damascus
, do not harm this CIA spy. Only I can get to the real truth.”

“It will be as you say.”

“Take him to the place we discussed. No one will suspect anything. I have made all the arrangements.”

“We live to serve you, el Jibar. You are the chosen one to be great among our people.”

He waved his hand. “Go now.”

As they left the room
, Youssef stood, grasped his hands behind his back, and walked to the window. He lived in a two-story compound that was impenetrable. Guards patrolled the whole complex. No one could touch him.

If only he had time to draw Falcon Securities here. He wanted them to look for him. This way he could cut them all down like the dogs they were. If you cut off the head of a snake, the body dies. And without Frank Hamilton and his agents to do the dirty work for the U.S. president, there would be little to stop him.

He touched the scar on his side where Brody Hawke had shot him in Mexico. Soon the Falcon agent would pay with his life.

Now he must take care of Mitchell. He planned to torture him without mercy until he disclosed every bit of information he had. When Youssef had all the names of the Americans spies, he would
publicize it to the world.

His manservant entered the room quietly. “The man from the TV station is here to see you.”

“Send him in.”

Youssef turned and smiled at the man dressed in American clothing with his shiny shoes and expensive watch. Evidence that American influence controlled not only his culture, but his people too.

He turned to his servant. “Bring us tea.” He offered the television executive a chair.

“Thank you for seeing me, el Jibar. I hope we will have a prosperous meeting.”

Youssef wanted to hang the dog out the window and let his body be a symbol of all they had become. Nothing, but money and greed. Honor did not matter anymore.

He sat
opposite the businessman. “I hope your journey here was pleasant?”

The visitor took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He could no longer tolerate the desert. “It was very tedious and long.”

The tea arrived.

“I want you to make some announcements over your television station.”

The executive accepted the cup of tea with a smile, took a loud sip and looked up. “Like what?”

“Soon I will be in possession of the names of every American spy in Europe and the Middle East. I want you to show that list to all
the world, so they will see how powerful we are.”

Stunned, the caller put down his tea and leaned back. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple. I have captured an American operative who knows the names of several hundred agents working against us.”

The man held out his hands. “Wait, I don’t want to insult you, el Jibar, but I can’t do that.”

He jumped to his feet, anger crushing his patience. “You will do as I say or you will have no television station.” Youssef swiped the tea tray to the floor. “You take orders from me. I pay your salary and I own that company. Do not come into my house and tell me no.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “I will not abide it from you or anyone.”

Sweat dripped from the visitor’s heavy body. His hands shook. “I am very sorry, el Jibar. Please forgive my insolence. I will do as you say.”

Youssef could not control is anger. “Get out of my home. You are not welcome here. Tomorrow, someone else will replace you.”

“But, but, el Jibar. Do not be hasty. Have I not been there for you in every situation? I am your man. Only yours.” He reached out, took
Youssef’s hand, and kissed it. With tears in his eyes, he stared at Youssef. “I will do as you say always.”

Youssef pulled from the man’s grasp
. “Leave. I will contact you later.”

“Yes, el Jibar. I await your call.”

Alone, Youssef’s jaw tightened. His eagerness to get his hands on Joe Mitchell gnawed at him like a hungry animal. He needed those names. It was imperative he established himself as the leader of the Middle East.

There could be kings and dictators and all the other fools. His time had finally come. The plan he’d so painstakingly carved out was upon the world now. Everyone would come to fear the name Youssef el Jibar or die.

Georgetown

Anita Mitchell sat in front of her computer, sending an email to her older son. He’d been struggling lately in his English class, and she hoped to encourage him. She needed a little distracting herself.

When Joe returned, Anita planned to tell him about Brad. She didn’t know what Joe would say or do, but she could handle it either way. She prayed her marriage wouldn’t end over one mistake, but she would understand if Joe left her.

The thought broke her heart, but she was a strong woman. Well, except for the other night. She prayed Joe had enough love in his heart to forgive her. To let them start anew and him be home more. If not, maybe the marriage wasn’t worth it after all.

As a wife
, she’d spent too much time in her own company. That wasn’t good for any marriage. Especially when your husband had a job as dangerous as Joe’s with the CIA.

She stood and went to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. The afternoon slump came on fast, and she needed a boost.

Just as she turned on the button, her doorbell rang. Reluctantly, she went to answer it. In the foyer, the security system showed Brad standing on her doorstep with a bouquet of red roses.

She shouldn’t open the door to the scum, but it was time to face him down.
After schooling her features, she opened the door and stared at Brad. “What do you want?”

He shoved the flowers at her. “To make peace.”

“Not going to happen.”

“I can’t understand why you’re so angry. You gave me the come on. I didn’t go chasing after you.”

“Brad, I’ve been in your crosshairs for over a year, ever since our anniversary party last year. I felt your eyes on me. I know you couldn’t stay two feet away from me that night. I wondered how long it would be before you made your move.”

He bowed his head. “It’s that obvious I’m in love with you?”

“I don’t know if it’s love, but I know it’s not returned. I love my husband.” He started to speak. “Don’t say anything. Just leave.”

“Anita, I have such big plans for us. In a few days I’ll have Vince’s job and…”

She hardened her face and scowled.

Brad paused, breathlessly.
“What about the video, the things you said?”

Her
heart beat a rapid tempo in her chest. “I’m sorry you did something that low. I would’ve thought more of you if you hadn’t. As for what I allegedly said, take that to Vince Colanglo.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will.” Anita stepped back, held up a small recorder and wiggled it in the air. She smiled. “Blackmail, Brad?” She stuck it in her pocket. “I’m no fool. Being the wife of a spy, I’ve picked up a few tricks.”

Brad’s face turned red
, and he shoved her against the wall and kicked the door shut. “Really, bitch? Let’s see just how tough you are.”