by Louise Dawn
“Squeezing that fluffy green monstrosity into my luggage.”
Chapter Nineteen
Two large suitcases and a carry-on bag. Abby stared at the packed luggage sitting in the corner of her room. That was all she could carry into their new life. Going back to the place she’d started out in this world felt terrifying; the last time she had been in the States was at the brash age of seventeen. She’d loved her time in South Africa. It was time to move on and new adventures started with a first step…and Djibouti.
Abby asked Lizzy to come over that evening. It was time to tell her friend the truth and to say their goodbyes. Lizzy wouldn’t like the revelation, it could be the death of their friendship. A grim byproduct of the circumstances, but Lizzy needed to be warned she was a link to Josephine Abigail Evans that Khalid may uncover down the line.
Gruff voices drifted down the passage. The men gathered in the kitchen, making sandwiches from a dinner spread Abby had laid out earlier, and she dug in with gusto. Max was on the phone and hung up as Abby bit into her freshly made sandwich.
“We’re meeting a colleague from a joint agency at Aroma Café at six pm. You’ll come along for the ride. While I meet with our contact, Slater and Donnie will sit with you.”
“Is that the coffee house near the gym?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want me to stay here?”
“We’ve packed up the surveillance equipment and I’d feel better if we stick together as a precaution. When we’ve wrapped up the meeting, we’ll talk to Lizzy and outline the potential risk to her safety. Are you all packed for the morning?”
Abby mumbled a yes between hungry bites. The past twenty hours were a whirlwind of wrapping up her business and packing the rest of her safe world into a storage unit. Leaving the artwork was challenging but she could always send for them. Maybe if Lizzy wasn’t too mad, she’d keep the keys to the unit and look after Abby’s things. A private plane down to Cape Town had been arranged and they were leaving in the morning.
“You’ll give me Gabe’s location once we are airborne and security is locked down,” Max said.
“Thank you for understanding. I know it’s grating for your team not knowing his whereabouts.”
Max agreed. “I get that you’re a mother who’ll do anything to safeguard her son, but it makes me antsy not knowing where we’re heading. Khalid’s cell is in ruins, less than twelve hours ago he was sighted in Somalia and that’s the only reason you’ve not been strong armed into giving up the address.”
Abby grabbed a handful of salted chips. “How does this work? Do we rent a vehicle once we’ve landed?”
“No, baby. I’ll have a local team on standby, standard protocol for such a high-valued asset.”
Abby finished her meal as the men ran through the game plan for the next twenty-four hours. All she thought of was holding her son in her arms and the future safety of her friends. Gabe might be just an asset to the US Government, but he was her entire world.
“What about Kris?” Abby said.
“What about him?”
“He’ll need to be warned. Khalid knew of our friendship in Dubai. If he tracks Kris down, he could torture him for information.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Max gave Abby his full attention. “Kris worked for the sheikh on his game farm. Did he ever work for any of the sheikh’s friends? How well does Khalid know Kris?”
“Max, you did a background check on Kris when he was in Dubai. You know where he worked.”
“I know his history, but you may have picked up on something.”
“I kept to myself. They moved in the same circles. Khalid was closer to Meg. Obviously, I had no idea that she was inserting herself purposely into Khalid’s life.”
“Would Kris have stayed in touch with anyone from Dubai after he left?”
“It’s doubtful. Kris is a nomad and hates the setting-down-roots thing.”
Something about that statement bothered Max.
“Do I need to warn Kris?” Abby asked again.
“We’ll call him once we’re Stateside. I’m not dealing with his theatrics today.” Max zipped up his go-bag and grabbed his Smith’s sunglasses.
Mandla had requested to meet with developing intel before MIT2 left. It was inconvenient but Mandla Nkosi was a valuable ally who’d arranged the transport to Cape Town. MIT2 would leave on good terms. Max wouldn’t relax till they were safely on the final leg to MIT headquarters in North Carolina. That could still be weeks away.
“Are you ready, Abs? We’re moving in ten.”
Abby tidied the kitchen before grabbing her purse.
An uneasy feeling took residence in Max’s gut on the quiet drive over to the strip mall. The men did a comms check and secured their weapons. They’d stacked an additional arsenal of firepower in the trunk. The mission was wrapped in Johannesburg, but Max couldn’t shake the edginess as he glanced at Abby’s profile in the back. Cool and collected, in Converse sneakers, skinny grey jeans and a white shirt she’d layered with a fitted leather jacket. His Italian girl next door, even if she had her own ideas about their future, she’d always be his girl.
Along with his security detail, Mandla sat near the entrance with a good view of the surrounding area. Slater and Donnie steered Abby to a sheltered table inside the cafeteria and out of view. Her high ponytail swayed as she sauntered to the back. Abby turned and shot Max a small smile, and he smiled in return knowing he’d fallen for his secretive siren and would take apart mountains stone by stone if it would make her happy. Max forcibly focused on his compatriot, joining Mandla at his table while Johnny stood just outside the entrance.
“So, you’re leaving sunny South Africa. I’m not sorry that Khalid Al Juhani was an elusive bastard, no operative wants an extremist crossing their borders.”
“Our team would have relocated or exterminated him,” Max said.
Mandla added sugar to his tea. “I prefer to do my own cleanup. No offense to brawny American powerhouses such as yourselves, but I’m capable of cleaning my own house.”
Max shifted his chair to face the entrance. “I appreciate your assistance and the bird provided for our Cape Town trip.”
“I’m not done, I have new intelligence on one of the background checks you requested.” Mandla’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the number before taking a sip of Earl Grey. “I need to take this, it relates.”
◊ ◊ ◊
“Why is there never any soap in public bathroom dispensers?” Lizzy grumbled as she pumped a trace of foam out before washing her hands. She’d stopped in at Aroma Café for a bathroom break and to grab a smoothie. Thanks to a canceled class, she could squeeze in an aerobics session at the gym next door, before driving to Abby’s place.
She wore her new neon pink leg warmers, matching headband and grey sweats. Lizzy paused to study her reflection, trying to tame her curls. She looked almost happy. Hopeful. That’s the word she was looking for; her gentle giant made her feel hopeful and she’d see him later. John had no clue that she was a virgin. Ivan hadn’t been her first—she’d wanted to wait till the wedding night, besides it hadn’t felt right—but with John, it was too right.
The fondling sessions drove her insane. Lizzy wanted to do wicked things and knew he wanted the same, yet the times that she got carried away, John slowed them back down. Not tonight, an old Snow Patrol shirt wouldn’t cut it. She needed something sexy, like a blue baby doll or maybe neon pink? Next stop after gym class, lingerie shopping at the mall. Fluffing her hair one last time, she swung open the door, heading for the counter to pick up the fruit smoothie she’d ordered, and she saw Abby.
Lizzy wanted to yell out but paused instead. The two well-proportioned strangers sitting at the same table were way too familiar with her hermit-like friend. Lizzy stepped back into the shadows. The slightly shorter man with a goatee had his back to the bathroom. The other was way too good looking, with bedroom eyes and a sensual mouth. Abby said something that made the hotti
e laugh and he touched her arm with easy familiarity. Lizzy felt bothered by the scene.
Abby never socialized outside Lizzy’s group of friends, just meeting with Lizzy was a push for her reserved friend. A customer stood up behind Abby, bumped into her chair and shoved her forward. Both men moved smoothly as Abby grabbed for the table. The quieter man reached for a gun concealed in the small of his back. He kept his hand at the ready, analyzing the threat. The other man stood guard between Abby and the clumsy patron, easing back down once the customer had passed.
Why would Abby be hanging out with armed men? The dimpled male model casually touched his ear, speaking quietly. Movement at the door caught Lizzy’s eye. John stood at the entrance, hands folded, looking like an unyielding stranger. Was he talking to someone? John adjusted something in his ear. Holy strawberries! Was John talking to that other man with some type of earpiece? Were they communicating with each other, like in the movies? John’s electric gaze swung in their general direction, landing on the bronzed god before flicking Lizzy’s way. Unwelcome surprise briefly registered, then John shot her a phony smile.
Lizzy was an uninvited guest in a duplicitous game. John advanced, and his puerile smile faltered as she stepped back, her agitation registering in his deceitful brain. He said something to Abby as he walked past, and Abby stood, moving towards Lizzy as if she were a spooked deer. Lizzy regarded them both warily.
Abby halted a few feet away. “Sweetie, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Who are those men?” Lizzy nodded towards the table.
“They’re my work colleagues,” John said.
“Armed work colleagues who have business with Abby. You weren’t even sitting with them.”
John and Abby exchanged a loaded glance, which pissed Lizzy off. “Whatever game you’re playing, leave me out of it.” Lizzy stepped past and Abby grabbed her hand.
“We’ll be heading back to my place shortly. Can we meet there to talk for a minute?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, not until I know what’s going on. I have an aerobics class in five, but this feels more important.”
John pointed to an empty table behind the other men. “What do you want to drink, angel?”
“I ordered a juice, it’s at the till.”
Abby eased down next to her as John retrieved and paid for the drink. Lines bracketed her strained mouth.
“You’ve been lying to me,” Lizzy said.
“I have. It’s complicated. There are bad people after my son and I need protection.”
“Gabriel’s father?”
Abby nodded.
“How does John tie into this?”
Before Abby could reply, an older man stepped up to the table.
“Miss Evans.”
Abby looked surprised. “Mr. Bakal, what a coincidence.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Max watched the foul-up from a distance. John was doing damage control in a public arena and the itch between Max’s shoulder blades wasn’t helping. This meeting needed to be terminated. He scanned the parking area and neighboring restaurants for potential threats as people went about their daily business. Perhaps he was overreacting, but he’d never been this invested. The personal stake embedded in his heart was the lovely brunette sitting across the room, messing with his focus. Max shamelessly eavesdropped on scraps of Mandla’s conversation. Mandla enquired on an interrogation of a suspect.
Levi Bakal walked into the café. Grand fucking Central Station today. The turd beetle made a beeline for Abby and Max gave his team the heads-up.
◊ ◊ ◊
Somebody upstairs must have a grand sense of humor, Abby thought as the tiny man started in on her. “The bakery across the road makes the best bagels. Have you tried them? I’m waiting for a fresh batch to come out the oven.”
“Hello, Levi, no, I have not.”
“I was killing time when I saw you walk in. I’m so glad I spotted you. Thank you for sending all the artwork. The logos are wonderful, but still not what I need. The excuse that you’re leaving town for an extended vacation is unacceptable.”
Lizzy gasped. “You’re leaving? You never told me that!”
Abby had only just sent Levi the email. John’s disapproving look told her that she’d made an error in judgment by mentioning her plans, even if it was just to a grouchy little man. She felt bad for Levi. She’d felt bad for all her clients, pushing to wrap up as many projects as possible before she left. Once settled in America, Abby would send the non-urgent artwork over a secure line.
Abby started to talk when Levi cut in. “The least you can do is change the colors on my logo. Red and black won’t work, I want gold and dark brown.”
Abby kept the exasperation out of her voice. “Gold and dark brown isn’t a wise choice. It’ll look too similar to the UPS logo.”
“Nonsense, I bought new wallpaper and it’ll match perfectly. I have a sample roll in my car.”
“Levi, I can’t finish the logo for you.”
“Please, Abigail. I can’t afford to hire someone else and I’m pumping a lot of money into this bakery. Just adjust the color scheme.”
And there it was. The guilt soiling her skin. The crusty gnome gave her such a hopeful look and dang it. “Where’s your car?”
His eyes lit up. “Just outside, the red one parked to the left.”
The old station wagon wasn’t that far from Max. Abby could check on Levi’s new color palette and still be visually within reach.
“Abby,” John said with a warning.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Lizzy shoved her drink away. “Golly gee! What’s a minute in the big scheme of things when you’re leaving for an extended vacation? It sounds awfully permanent to me.” Sarcasm laced her words.
“I’ve got this,” John said. “Don’t wander off. Stay close.”
Lizzy looked like a stubborn fairy. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to hear a thing from either of you.”
Abby escaped the loaded silence, following Levi out to his car. Max gave her a WTF stare as she walked past. One of the men must’ve communicated. Max relaxed a smidgen, but not by much. He glanced at the red car. Abby could relate, what a fudge up.
“Did I interrupt something?” Levi asked.
Abby ignored the question. No need to mention the impending friendship implosion. Lately, it seemed to be her thing.
Levi opened his trunk, temporarily blocking Abby’s view of Max. Glancing down and expecting to see a roll of wallpaper, all she saw was a spare tire.
The trunk was empty.
Horror replaced confusion when Levi rammed a gun into her back. “If you move or scream, your pretty blonde friend will be the first to die. My colleagues will then target your boyfriend and his CIA friends. Shift slightly so your friends can see you and not get suspicious. Laugh at something I say. Keep your eyes on the trunk.”
Abby did as he asked. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Nothing except hand you over, then my job is done. A florist’s van will pull up next to us and you’ll climb in. If you don’t, our men will open fire. Now smile.”
Abby played along, thinking of a way to warn Max.
“I played the part well, a whiny little baker desperate for your services. I may look Jewish, but I’m from Khalid’s village.”
“You work for him?”
“Khalid is an honorable man that you should never have crossed; you’ll die for your sins. A bitch that hides a son from his father deserves a gruesome death.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Clear as day, Abby walked out of the café with Levi Bakal.
Max’s earpiece came alive with Donnie’s voice. “They’re walking to Bakal’s car to see his new wallpaper. The red car, forward and to the left.”
Max spotted it one aisle over. Abby’s design company was closed for business so what the hell
was she doing? “Donnie, I want you out there. Do a loop to our vehicle, pretend to get something and then pull her back in.”
“Copy.”
Donnie walked out. Mandla hung up on his call and immediately started talking to Max, who listened with half an ear, uncomfortable with Abby out in the open. Levi spoke. Abby smiled as she glanced into his trunk.
“…we caught the poacher trying to jump the border,” Mandla said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Max said.
Mandla delicately picked up a biscotti and dipped it into his tea. “Customs captured one of the poachers responsible for the ambush on Muller’s unit. He tried to cross the border into Zimbabwe yesterday evening, rhino horns hidden in food crates. One of my associates just completed the interview and the bastard cracked like a soft egg.”
Donnie closed the door to their truck, two lanes over and circled towards Abby’s position.
“The poacher gave up the syndicate?”
“He gave us a name. A familiar name.”
Max’s blood chilled. “Who does he work for?”
“Kris Muller. It was a setup. Muller got his own unit killed. Either for the horns or perhaps they started asking questions. Apparently, Muller’s operation extends all the way up into Kenya, and get this, the poacher identified Roman Petrovich as a silent partner in the syndicate.”
Max launched himself over the trellis, even before he saw the flash of white accompanied by the screech of brakes. A van pulled alongside Abby. “Muller’s dirty!” Max yelled into his comms unit as he pulled his weapon.
◊ ◊ ◊
Johnny tried to break up the silence. “Lizbug, we’re trying to protect you.”
“Go eat soap! I don’t know who you are, and I honestly don’t give a freaking fuck.”
“That’s not true, you do give a fuck, and so do I. This matters. It matters that you know the truth about me, it matters that you know how I feel about you.”
“‘The truth about me.’ Those are the exact words my ex used. Everything was a giant lie.”
“Don’t ever compare me to Ivan.”