Strike Back

by Marliss Melton

  “I don’t recognize that name,” she lied, setting her drink down and maintaining direct eye contact.

  His thick eyebrows drew together as his gaze bore into hers. “Really?”

  “What makes you think I know him?” Hilary continued on a casual note.

  “Well, when I answered your friend request last night, it said we had a friend in common named Oscar Atta.”

  “Huh.” Hilary clung to her assertion. “I couldn’t tell you who that is. You know Facebook. We all have a lot of friends who are really strangers.”

  “Here, I’ll show you.” Elias pulled his phone out, presumably to access his list of friends on Facebook.

  Watching him, Hilary’s mind raced ahead of her fast-beating heart. Why on earth would Elias be friends with Oscar Atta? She reached for a coconut-encrusted shrimp and munched it to cover up her consternation.

  “Hmm.” Elias frowned at his phone, then shook his head and shrugged. “Well, my mistake,” he said, placing it back on the table. “If you were friends with him, you’re not anymore.”

  What? Concern usurped her initial relief. She wasn’t Stu’s friend anymore? “Must have been a fluke,” she murmured. “I’ve never heard of Oscar Atta.”

  “Well, I hope so,” Elias replied. Leaning closer, he pitched his voice low and said, “The man is a known dissident. You’ll want to stay away from him if you don’t want to lose your clearance.”

  “Wait,” she said, “then why are you friends with him?”

  He sent her a condescending grimace. “It’s my job,” he told her simply.

  His assertion relieved her suspicions immediately. Now she was dying to know two things at once. What exactly did Elias do with Intelligence Advanced Research Projects Activity? And why had Stu unfriended her? Hadn’t he seen the message she’d sent from the Expo explaining Elias was just her neighbor?

  “Can you talk about your job?” she asked, while searching for the restroom.

  Elias gave a thoughtful hum. “Not really,” he said apologetically. “I can tell you we focus on satellite surveillance, stuff like that, but that’s about it. How about you?”

  She didn’t want to talk about her work. And there was the restroom where she could slip away to ascertain for herself if Stu had unfriended her. Did this mean he wasn’t going to contact her tomorrow? A weight pressed down on her chest.

  “I work for a taskforce that focuses on terrorism within a hundred-mile radius of the Capitol,” she said breezily.

  Elias’s eyes glowed with interest. “Really. And that was your boss at the Expo,” he recalled. “What’s his name?”

  “Ike Calhoun—actually, it’s Isaac, but only his wife can call him that.” An inner voice cautioned Hilary to close her mouth. While Elias obviously worked in the same line of business she did, they were in a public restaurant in Chinatown. Who knew what kind of listening devices were planted under the table capturing useable intel that could be analyzed by the Chinese to thwart the US?

  “If you don’t mind, I need to use the restroom,” she said, pushing her chair back. “I’ll be quick,” she added, seeing his look of disappointment.

  Once within the privacy of a toilet stall, Hilary opened Facebook on her phone and verified that, sure enough, Oscar Atta was no longer listed as one of her friends.

  “Well!” She issued a huff of confusion, then wrestled with the concern that Stu hadn’t believed her about Elias. Given her past reputation with men, she couldn’t really blame him. Perhaps he wanted nothing to do with her. But that was silly. After all, Stu was the one who’d broken it off with her and broken her heart in the process.

  Anyway, there was nothing she could do about it now that he’d unfriended her. She wanted to trust that his promise was still the strongest thing he valued. She wanted to believe he’d reach out to her tomorrow, but why cut her off? Again!

  Sighing heavily, she put her phone away and finished her business. To have her hopes dashed when she’d been so pleased to have him back in her life was a cruel fate. How could Stu have done that to her? Tears of frustration stung her eyes.

  She tried to tell herself it was for the best. If Stu couldn’t trust that she had really changed, he didn’t deserve her. She would move on. She would find another man just like him. At least Elias seemed interested.

  Two hours later, Hilary slipped inside of her apartment, shutting the door between her and Elias. Only then did she wipe the taste of his kiss off her lips.

  Had she made a mistake agreeing to see him again, on Tuesday?

  There’d been nothing inherently awful about his kiss. Elias hadn’t been sloppy or clumsy. Like a gentleman, he had walked her to her door then stolen a gentle kiss—nothing that would explain her repugnance. With the excuse that she had to feed her cat, she’d turned the key in her lock and darted into her apartment.

  Confusion stormed her. What was she supposed to do, dismiss the opportunity of a date in the hopes that Stu came through tomorrow, despite the fact that he’d unfriended her? He’d had all evening to contact her about his reasons for doing that, yet her phone remained conspicuously silent, like he hadn’t believed her assertion that Elias was just her neighbor.

  Well, screw him. She wasn’t going to bank on him coming through at this late hour. By accepting Elias’s request for another date, she’d at least ensured she wouldn’t spend the entire week alone and miserable because Stu had pulled the plug on them. Again.

  She was moving on, just as she’d promised herself she would.

  “Mrreeow!”

  Mitzie’s yowling wrested Hilary from her misery. Somehow, some way, she would put Stuart Rudolph behind her.

  Chapter Six

  On Sunday morning, Stu stood in the chilly breezeway outside of Hilary’s third-story apartment working up the nerve to knock. Someone nearby was cooking bacon, but with his stomach tied in knots, his mouth didn’t even water.

  He tried imagining Hilary’s reaction to his unannounced visit. He hadn’t warned her for a reason. If he surprised her in bed with her neighbor, he could still bow out of her life without telling her his number. Then he wouldn’t be subjected to the kind of heart-wrenching messages she’d left him on his old phone. Nothing disturbed Stu like unbridled emotion.

  Just knock, he ordered himself. He knew she was home because her orange Mini was sitting out front in its parking space.

  As he lifted his hand, the door popped open without warning, startling him. There stood Hilary wearing curve-hugging black spandex, a pink windbreaker, and tennis shoes.

  “Stu!” She gaped at him in evident amazement. “You’re here.”

  He examined the statement from all angles, his hand still poised in mid-air until he remembered to drop it back to his side. “I said I’d reach out to you on Sunday,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah, but…You unfriended me on Facebook.” There was no mistaking her accusatory tone.

  “For a reason,” he insisted. “We need to talk.” His gaze returned to her tight-fitting attire. “Were you going somewhere?”

  “For a walk through the park,” she explained with a cool shrug. “I do it every day.”

  The park was a good place to talk. “I’ll go with you.”

  She looked down at his lace-up loafers. “Can you walk in those?”

  If he could run five miles in combat boots, carrying a sixty-pound pack, he could sure as hell walk in loafers. “Yup.”

  Another shrug. “Suit yourself.” She pocketed her keys and pulled the door shut behind her. “Let’s go.”

  They moved in what might have been tense silence down the stairs. It was sometimes hard for Stu to tell if the air was thick or not.

  “This way.” As they reached the parking lot, Hilary gestured with her head that they should head for the wooded area across the street from her apartment complex.

  As they crossed the pavement, weaving their way through the cars, a sliding glass door rumbled open behind them. With instincts honed by years on the Teams, Stu looked
back and up to see a man stepping out onto his second floor balcony.

  Oh, shit, was that…? Yes, it was.

  Elias Malki froze with a coffee cup tipped to his face, but Stu still recognized him, and jealousy swamped him. He looked away and quickened his step, causing Hilary to trot to keep up.

  A crosswalk conveyed them to a park of deciduous trees. When he slowed down, Hilary led them toward a path that curved under bright green leaves, then along a lake where they startled a flock of geese into the water. They had trekked a quarter mile or so in silence when Stu decided there wasn’t any sense in putting off what he had to say.

  “So your neighbor,” he began, earning a sharp look. “I don’t think you should be friends with him on Facebook.”

  She came to an abrupt halt, forcing him to back up and meet her flashing eyes.

  “Why not? You really think I’m seeing him even though I told you I’m not?” Her tone conveyed anger and what he thought might be hurt.

  His first instinct was to deny it, but truth be told he hadn’t fully trusted her. “It’s not that,” he insisted.

  “Uh-huh.” Her cheeks flushed with emotions she kept to herself.

  Stu tried again. “Elias has certain friends…Tarek Hayek and Sayid Zafrani. They’re suspected ISIL supporters,” he clarified when she just stared at him blankly.

  A long silence followed his declaration, then she narrowed her eyes.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course.” Stu didn’t know why she asked that. Or why anyone ever asked that.

  Her nostrils flared. “Stu, Elias works for the Intelligence Advanced Research Projects Activity. If anything, he’s friends with ISIL supporters because he’s monitoring their activity. Just like Oscar.”

  Possibly, but only a handful of agencies employed social engineering to manipulate extremists.

  “Are you sure he works for IARPA?” His own research hadn’t unearthed a shred of evidence that Elias Malki was employed by the government.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “He leaves the office at the same time I do. He practically follows me home.”

  Was that supposed to make him feel better? “Doesn’t prove anything,” he pointed out.

  “Oh, come on.” She notched her hands on her hips in a classic defensive posture. “He went to MIT. He was born and raised in Akron, Ohio. He speaks perfect American English. There’s nothing remotely anti-American about his Facebook page. Maybe those friends you mentioned simply went to MIT with him. He is not a dissident,” she insisted stoutly. “I know this for a fact.”

  “How?”

  Her chin rose another inch. “Because he told me about his job. He also warned me not to be friends with Oscar Atta because that man is dangerous.”

  Stu felt the blood drain out of his head. It wasn’t a good feeling. “Wait, my name came up?”

  Hilary heaved a tedious sigh. “Yes. He asked me how I knew you. Apparently, he’d seen that we were friends on Facebook before you dumped me.”

  Her choice of words broke his train of thought. “Dumped you? I didn’t dump you,” he protested. “I should never have friended you from Oscar’s account in the first place. That was a mistake.”

  If anything, his apology seemed to upset her even more. Instead of continuing to walk, she folded her arms across her chest and drew a shaky breath before speaking.

  “Well, you and I aren’t friends anymore—or should I say, Oscar and I?—so it doesn’t really matter, does it? In fact,” she stated, her voice growing tight, “I’m going on a date with Elias on Tuesday. I guess it’s a little late, then, to tell me not to be friends with him.”

  Stu had to widen his stance to counteract the blow she’d just leveled at him. He spoke the first words to pop into his head. “You can’t go out with him.”

  The sight of her delicate eyebrows winging upward informed him that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  “Watch me,” she said through her teeth. Then she whipped around and marched away from him.

  In four long strides, Stu caught up to her, grabbed her arm and pulled her around. “Wait. I said that all wrong.”

  “You have some nerve, you know that?” She cut him off, jerking her elbow out of his grasp. “You can’t ignore me for five months then sweep back into my life and expect to pick up where we left off. I loved you.” Tears glistened in her eyes like diamonds, putting a choke hold on his vocal chords. “You didn’t say a word to me in five miserable months. You didn’t answer any of my texts or voicemails. All you did was change your stupid number. So, guess what, Stuart? I’ve moved on. If I want to date my neighbor, then I will, and you can’t tell me otherwise. And don’t try to scare me away from him with some ridiculous allegations about terroristic activities. That’s bullshit!”

  With that final pronouncement, she took off a second time, stalking in the direction they’d come from and wiping her face as she went.

  Stu had gotten the wind knocked out of him several times in the line of duty. It felt exactly like he was feeling right then. He couldn’t breathe.

  The only woman in the world he’d ever loved, aside from his mother and sisters, the only woman who’d ever understood him, was washing her hands of him because he was an idiot. He’d let stubbornness and, most recently, stupidity get in the way of keeping her close to him.

  Shit! And now she was planning to go out with someone he suspected of holding radical beliefs, someone who was friends with terrorists.

  Rousing from his dismay, he followed Hilary from a distance, keeping one eye on her while pondering how in hell he was going to get her back into his corner.

  A voice in his head, sounding very much like his oldest brother Nick’s, mocked him. Stu, you are one stupid son of a bitch.

  At the point of returning to his balcony with a fresh cup of coffee, Elias stilled behind his sliding glass door, eyes widening at the sight of Hilary hustling back toward the apartments alone. Her pink nose, her pinched lips, made it obvious she was upset. Some distance behind her, Stuart Rudolph kept pace with a brooding expression.

  Elias edged behind his hanging blinds so the man wouldn’t see him again. Of course, Elias had recognized him right away as the GSG member they’d run into at the Expo. His instincts then—that Hilary had a thing for the man—were clearly right on target. Her being friends with a white-hat hacker was a source of serious concern. What if that man was astute enough to sense Elias’s true intentions? Elias had been planning to use Hilary to get a camera into the National Counterterrorism Center. Beyond that, he’d been hoping for a long-term relationship with her. She was cute, smart, and sexy. He’d been confident of his ability to woo her, then eventually convert her to Islam.

  Yet her present distress was plainly evident as she hustled back into their building. Perhaps Rudolph had broken her heart. Was that a good thing for Elias or a sign that her heart was already taken?

  As she disappeared below him, Elias turned a thoughtful gaze on the source of her woe. Stuart Rudolph plodded reluctantly toward his all-electric vehicle. As he stood there, indecisive about leaving, the door in the apartment above Elias thudded shut. With a look of resolution on his lean face, Rudolph took his phone from the clip on his belt and made a call.

  Through the ceiling, Elias heard the faint chime of Hilary’s cell phone. It rang and rang and rang, telling him she was refusing Rudolph’s call.

  Huh, Elias thought. Was it over between them? The tall man’s shoulders sagged. He slowly put his phone away, got into his car, and after several minutes of just sitting there, drove away.

  Good, Elias thought. The Ghost was gone, leaving Elias to his original plans. Yet, what if there was something better he could do? Rudolph and Hilary clearly had a connection, maybe even strong feelings for each other. In fact, Elias imagined that a well-timed phone call from Hilary would likely bring the Ghost running straight back to her.

  Hmm. Excitement snaked through him as he considered the possibility of using that circumstance to h
is benefit. He pictured Sayid and Tarek’s reaction. Imagine how impressed they’d be if Elias delivered a Ghost Security Group member to them on a platter!

  Crossing toward his couch, he snatched up his worn copy of the Qur’an to inspire him. Leafing through it, he found the verses he was looking for.

  “Muster against them all the military strength and cavalry that you can afford,” he murmured, “so that you may strike terror into the hearts of the enemy of Allah.”

  Sinking onto his sofa with the book still open, he smiled with growing confidence. It was settled, then. He would use Hilary’s relationship with Rudolph to lure that man to his death.

  Chapter Seven

  On Tuesday evening, at ten minutes to seven, Hilary dragged herself out of her apartment for her date with Elias.

  “Just get it over with,” she muttered as she locked her door and started for the stairwell. It was obvious she and Elias weren’t going to end up in a relationship—not when her every waking thought was still of Stu. But she had to get over that damn SEAL. That damn sexy, smart SEAL. She sighed. Going out with someone else was the first necessary hurdle. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life pining for a man who didn’t know how to love her.

  As her head cleared the third floor, she spotted Elias standing by his door waiting for her to join him. In contrast to the amber sky behind him, he struck her as especially swarthy, dressed in a maroon sweater and black slacks. His compelling gaze jumped up to intercept hers, but the smile she expected from him never came.

  “You look great,” he said, taking in the jade green dress and leopard-print heels with an intense regard.

  “Thanks,” she said while thinking her shoes sent the wrong message.

  “Shall we?” Offering her his arm, he led her out into the parking lot. The burnished sun shimmered behind the branches of the trees in the park across the street.

  “Do you mind driving?”

  The unexpected question made Hilary blink.

  “I’m having an issue with my car,” Elias added, gesturing toward it as he marched them toward her Mini. “I need to take it to my mechanic tomorrow.”