Dangerously Deceived Page 18

  Nolan cranked the wheel.

  “What’s going on?” Carla’s voice rose, cracking at the end.

  Gun fire ripped through the noise. The SUV lurched and something—the tires—hissed.

  Vaughn reached over and jabbed at Carla’s seatbelt. He yanked his own off and pushed her out the other side of the truck. Glass shattered behind him. He curled his body over Carla’s as they spilled onto the sidewalk.

  “Melody!” Nolan roared.

  For a split second Vaughn was torn between responding to Nolan and the woman tucked under him. A new wave of bullets hit the SUV, making it rock from the impact.

  “Get on Carla. Get to her now,” Grant ordered.

  “I have the asset. We’re on foot,” Vaughn said and drew his weapon.

  The glass window that had been at his shoulder shattered, raining shards down on them. He covered Carla’s head then turned and pointed his gun through the window.

  Except he couldn’t see a target.

  The shooter was out of sight again.

  “I’ve got you,” Nolan said.

  “Help her.” Carla shoved at him.

  Vaughn reached over and yanked Nolan’s door open. The other man hunched, keeping low, and dragged Melody out by the shoulder straps of her Kevlar vest. Blood splattered her face and arms from a wound to her chest or shoulder. It was hard to tell.

  Brenden and Farez followed by Jamie reached them.

  “Move those assets,” Grant said.

  “Melody is down.” Vaughn pressed his hands to her chest, doing his best to stop the bleeding.

  “That’s an order,” Grant bellowed between the hail of bullets.

  “Go with them, Grant. We’ll hold him off,” Riley said over the noise.

  “We’ve got to move now.” Nolan bent over Melody and checked her pulse.

  “Come on.” Brenden easily scooped Melody into his arms, somewhat complicated by Farez still being shackled wrist to wrist.

  “Move,” Grant ordered as he jogged toward them, keeping low.

  Vaughn wrapped an arm around Carla and with Nolan in front of him began a crouched sprint forward.

  Windows were shattered. Glass littered the sidewalk.

  He spared a glance over his shoulder at the one man doing all this damage. He was covered head to toe in black and he moved between cover like a cat, too fast and nimble to hit. He didn’t so much aim as cause maximum damage. The few people Vaughn did see cowered behind cars and inside buildings.

  Their group rounded the corner, cut across the street through traffic and kept going.

  Lebanon was officially a hostile country to their team. They had to stay on the move if they were going to bring everyone home safe, but what about Melody? How bad were her injuries?

  “Did we really just lose all three vehicles?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Grant replied. He carried a familiar, silver case with him. “We need to get off the street. Riley?”

  “He’s gone.” Riley’s breathing was funny, wet sounding. “He just left. He might be coming after you. Get your ass out of here.”

  “Status report?” Grant must have heard it, too.

  “I’m hit,” Riley replied. “Hurts like a bitch. Harper? Tucker?”

  “We can keep going,” the deep voice of Harper replied.

  “How bad?” Grant asked.

  Vaughn glanced down at Carla. Blood was smeared on her sweater thanks to him. He’d done that.

  “We’ll live,” Harper said.

  Grant stopped in the middle of an alley and stared back through them at Melody cradled in Brenden’s arms. “You three get out of there, find some wheels and come get Melody. I want the four of you out of the country as soon as she’s stable, got it?”

  “But—”

  “You’re no good to us hurt, Riley.”

  Was it Vaughn’s imagination or was there emotion on Grant’s face?

  14.

  Monday. Secondary Safe House, Beirut, Lebanon.

  Carla leaned against the wall and peered out at the parking pad where the men loaded Melody into the back of a sedan. The other two injured team members were at least able to sit up. Vaughn was still her ever-present shadow, but after earlier even he didn’t make her feel inherently safe. There was someone very dangerous out there with their eyes on them. Because of Ashton? Who had he upset to gain such an enemy?

  She didn’t know where the car had come from. She was too focused on the blood. So much of it. Everywhere. And no one was commenting about it. They just kept going.

  The silence was the worst. The men worked together as the well-oiled machine they were, no orders or questions necessary. It was unnerving to watch.

  “What’s going to happen?” Carla whispered to Vaughn standing at her shoulder.

  “They’re going to a private medical practice. We’ve still got a few friends here. They’ll stabilize Melody and fly out as soon as they can.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” She swallowed as the car doors shut.

  “Mel is tougher than she looks.”

  “Why is all of this happening?” She couldn’t tear her gaze off the car’s taillights as it headed away from them. “Who hates Ashton this much?”

  “Hey? Look at me.” Vaughn cupped her cheek. “We’re going to get through this. Got it?”

  This was not her life. Her life was boring by comparison. Parties. Office drama. Lots of putting on a good face. People didn’t die in her world, not like this. And yet here she was, wearing a bullet-proof vest and clutching her purse like a shield.

  “Are we really safe here?” she asked.

  He frowned and his brow wrinkled. “As safe as we can make you. For now.”

  She heard doors open and shut followed by the thump of boots on the old floors.

  Someone had gone to great effort to repair the old home. It still bore the marks of past conflicts in the form of scorch marks and damage from mortar fire, but it was still standing. She hoped her little family was as resilient.

  Grant and the others joined them in the salon. The windows gave it an excellent view of the surrounding streets, a point she hadn’t thought about until Vaughn had mentioned it. Grant came to a stop just inside the room. His whole being seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage.

  “I think we can all say we’re hoping this job is brought to a speedy resolution,” he said. “Now, would someone like to propose how we make that happen?”

  Silence.

  That little voice that had been bugging Carla grew louder.

  “I have a question.” She lifted her hand. “Why would we get a demand letter then get attacked before we could pay up?”

  “Because the shooter wasn’t connected to this Hani character,” Vaughn replied.

  She glanced up at Vaughn. “Are we sure?”

  “Hani is a gangster. He’s young. He doesn’t have resources or training. Whoever that shooter was, he was trained. If I’m guessing, we’re looking at military or someone in the private sector.”

  “Well, then could we use that?” Carla glanced across at Grant. “Hani wants money. Can we incentivize him to protect us so we can pay him?”

  Vaughn squeezed her hand. “We need to set up a meet with Hani, regardless. The sooner we pay him, the sooner we can get going and leave this other guy in the dust.”

  “Let’s make contact with Hani,” Grant said. “We all want this over with.”

  Hani.

  The man who’d cut a piece of Jared’s skin off his body. That was who they were going to reward with an obscene amount of money?

  Carla let go of Vaughn, turned and walked into the hall. There was a bathroom around here somewhere. She opened a coat closet and stared at the empty space.

  “Hey? Hey.” Vaughn jogged after her.

  He shut the door and took her hand.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

  “Over here.” He led her to another door and led her inside, closing them both in the small space of the powder room
.

  She stared at his chest, her insides both numb and in turmoil.

  He leaned against the vanity and pulled her to stand between his legs then gathered her in his arms and held her so tight she could barely breathe. His touch sparked warmth in her, chasing the numb away. But it also left room for the pain.

  “Today was scary. It’s okay to cry,” he whispered.

  “How did this happen? Why is it happening?” Her throat was so tight the words came out as a whisper.

  Vaughn stroked her hair, soothing her scattered thoughts with each pass of his fingers.

  They stood like that without speaking, just holding each other for a while. She could hear the voices of the men across the hall and the occasional street noise.

  “Hey?” Vaughn tugged on her hair.

  She tipped her head back, grateful for the momentary zen-like state he’d given her by simply playing with her hair.

  His dark eyes were serious and warm. “We’re going to get through this.”

  “Are they still going to send you away?” She squeezed him a little tighter.

  “I doubt it. We’re no longer up three guys.”

  “Good,” she said on a sigh. It was selfish, but she felt better with him around.

  He pulled on her hair a bit more, tipping her chin up. She let her lids lower. He could be strong for her right now.

  What was it about a good hair pull that did this to her? Was that really what she wanted to think about right now?

  Vaughn bent his head and pressed his forehead to hers.

  How many days had they known each other?

  Why did it feel as though she’d always missed him, even when she didn’t know him?

  He was familiar to her in a way that made no sense.

  His nose bumped hers and she stopped breathing.

  Her body didn’t know they weren’t supposed to do this.

  Vaughn’s mouth settled against hers in a firm kiss. Her bones melted, and she clung to him as his lips began to move. She gripped his shoulder, the better to rise up on tip-toe to get closer. The hand in her hair tightened then she felt the nip of his teeth on her lower lip. The sweetness turned needy, wanting.

  This wasn’t what he wanted, hiding in a bathroom, making out.

  She turned her face and lowered to her heels, letting her cheek rest against his shoulder.

  He squeezed her and kissed the top of her head.

  “That’s not smart,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  “We keep doing this, only meaning to talk, then it leads to something else...” As though they were meant to be more and anything less wasn’t natural.

  Wishful thinking?

  “I like that something else,” he said.

  “But if you bring Ashton back—”

  “When.”

  “When you bring Ashton back, my life stays the same.”

  “I know that.” Vaughn kissed the top of her head again. “I’m going to do my job. Personal feelings don’t matter. I can only fight on so many fronts. I’m not fighting this anymore.”

  Carla bit her lip.

  Hadn’t he said something similar before? How long would this resolve last? Did she want to think about it too much?

  If she had Vaughn, even for another day, she’d take it. Because he was the hero she needed and damn what anyone said against them.

  MONDAY. SODECO AUTO Repair, Beirut, Lebanon.

  Hani pulled the phone away from his face.

  What the hell just happened?

  Eessa stuck his head out of the shed. They’d moved both their prisoners and operation out here in the early morning hours so as to stay out of sight from the mechanics and patrons of the garage. The downside was that the shed had little to no ventilation and was already sweltering hot with the four of them inside while Tajamal worked as though this were a normal day.

  Hani turned and paced around to the back of the shed.

  They’d been expecting a call following their demand package, but what the hell was that?

  Eessa followed Hani around back and offered him a bottle of water. “Was that them? They get it?”

  “Something went down.” Hani slid the burner phone into his pocket then pulled out his personal cell.

  “What do you mean, something went down?”

  Hani stared at Eessa. “Someone attacked them.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hani tapped the suit contact and held the phone up to his ear. “I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

  The line rang a few times before clicking to voicemail.

  “Damn it,” Hani muttered and ended the call.

  “What? No answer?”

  “Be quiet.” Hani paced. “I need to think.”

  The package had been incentive. If everything went perfectly, he’d meet with the woman and the Americans to get the cash. Once that was done, Hani would have the others bring the hostages in. That was when they’d bring in the suits. Hani didn’t intend to get cut out again.

  But what if the suits were playing him?

  They knew he had Ashton.

  What if they were going after the others first, then planned on taking what they wanted from Ashton?

  The phone rang.

  “Who is it?” Eessa crowded Hani trying to see the screen.

  The suit.

  “Don’t say anything.” Hani held up his finger then clicked answer. “You trying to cut me out?”

  “What are you talking about?” the monotone man asked.

  “I heard about an attack on my marks this morning. You trying to cut me out?” Hani’s blood heated. He’d lost one friend to this mess already. He intended to get paid. Money was the only thing that would fix his situation with his boss.

  “On the contrary, you are the one trying to cut us out. I know you had them all in one place last night.”

  “No. No, we didn’t. It was just Ashton. The other Americans showed up. They surprised us. There wasn’t time to call you. I’ve got a plan, you see.”

  “And so do we. Our plans supersede yours. You had your chance to be a team player. You will hold Ashton Khoury and his associate until we tell you to bring them to us or you’ll wish you were dead. End of discussion. Understood?”

  “Yeah, I understand alright.”

  The call ended.

  Hani fisted the phone and glared at the stack of old tires bordering the fence on one side of the property.

  He was tired of taking orders, but what choice did he have? What were his options?

  MONDAY. SECONDARY SAFE House, Beirut, Lebanon.

  Vaughn gulped down more coffee. He’d been up far longer than he should. By all rights he needed be in bed, but there was too much to figure out.

  “Zain just sent over the profile on this Hani guy,” Nolan said staring at his tablet.

  “Wanna read it for the rest of us?” Vaughn asked. He only had his phone on him and with how tired he was, reading on it was a pain.

  “Sure. Skimming now.” Nolan dragged his finger up and down the screen. “Let’s see... Born to a lower-middle-class family. Middle child of four. He’s been on his own for a while, struggling to earn money. Based on his arrest record, it’s safe to say Hani runs with a tough crowd. Looks like typical gang stuff.”

  “What if that’s the angle?” Vaughn leaned against the table. “He’s part of this gang. He has to earn his keep. Farez over here roped him into this scheme then Hani sees Ashton. He’s low-hanging fruit so Hani goes for it.”

  “Plausible. That doesn’t explain our mystery guy this morning. Fuck.” Grant massaged is temples. “Anyone heard from Riley?”

  Nolan replied without glancing up. “They’re posted up in Cairo. Visited the hospital earlier. Everyone is fine.”

  “Mel?” Grant asked.

  “The clinic they stopped at before they left got her patched up and topped her blood off.” Nolan set the tablet down. “Our mystery guy is the unknown factor. He doesn’t make sense.�
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  “Okay.” Jamie rapped his knuckles on the table. “So what’s our plan?”

  “What choices do we have?” Vaughn grimaced. “We pay the ransom and get out before we have another run-in with that dude. Leave him in the dust.”

  Jamie turned toward him. “What if mystery guy is just someone else who wants Ashton out of the way? We might have to take him out if we want to actually bring our guy home.”

  “Why don’t we ask him?” Brenden flicked his fingers toward the cellar door.

  Everyone glanced at the makeshift prison they’d rigged up. Vaughn didn’t think it was necessary. Farez was remorseful. He’d shown up to help. Sure, Vaughn might not trust the guy, but he also thought Farez knew what was on the line. Why else would the guy have offered up the detail about sending his family to hide with friends?

  Brenden pushed to his feet and crossed through the kitchen to the cellar door. He flipped the lock and lifted from the doorknob. The old door groaned before allowing him to open it and peer down the stairs.

  “Farez? A word?”

  The stairs creaked and a few moments later the older man appeared. His skin was still ashen. He’d never recovered from the scare earlier.

  Vaughn stood and pulled out a chair for Farez. The man lowered into the seat, glancing at Nolan, Jamie and Grant as though they might attack him.

  Brenden held up a can of Coke.

  “You read my mind.” Vaughn caught the soda and tapped the top before opening it and setting it in front of Farez. “Drink.”

  “I don’t drink soda,” he said.

  “Just this once.” Vaughn nudged the can closer.

  Farez took a sip then another.

  Caffeine was a standard tool in their arsenal when dealing with stunned people. That shot of awareness helped normalize a person and right now Farez needed that.

  “Where is Carla? Is she okay?” he asked.

  “She’s fine,” Vaughn replied, but gave no further details.

  He’d taken her upstairs and put her in bed with a movie, though he doubted that was where he’d find her when he went looking. He’d seen her go to town on the dishes enough to realize that was how she coped. She cleaned.

  Vaughn turned his chair toward Farez then sat, giving the man his full attention. “We wanted to ask you about the guy this morning. The one who attacked us.”