Omar straightened awake too.
“Is that the delivery man?” Mia said, lifting her head. Her heart pounded, and not just because of the imminent discovery.
“Lie down,” Omar said, pulling out a gun. “I can block his view of you.”
Mia complied, even though she wasn’t happy about it. Omar maneuvered in front of her so he was between Mia and the door.
But the back door never opened. When the driver’s door opened, Mia’s skin broke out in goose bumps. Omar shifted slightly so his gun was aimed at the driver’s seat.
The man climbed in, whistling, and the smell of fresh pastries reached Mia. After some settling, and the sound of what seemed to be a box of pastries set on the passenger seat, the engine started.
Mia turned her head and caught Omar’s gaze. He gave her a small nod then trained his eyes on the driver. If she hadn’t been in such a precarious situation, she’d have given almost anything for one of those pastries. Omar had to be hungry too.
The van jolted onto a dirt road, and Mia wished she could change her position. With each bump, the van’s floor dug into her right hip. The sky was definitely lighter outside, and Mia caught glimpses of a violet sky beginning to melt into blue.
When the van started to slow, Omar lay down next to her, moving very carefully. “Checkpoint,” he whispered in her ear.
This close to him, she could see the pupils of his dark eyes, and smell his spicy scent. And his body was touching hers. That didn’t make her nervous. If anything, it made her feel warm… a thought she pushed away immediately.
Omar’s eyes stayed trained on her as if he didn’t dare move.
The van came to a stop, and the driver rolled down the window. He spoke to someone in Arabic.
Omar’s gaze didn’t falter, but Mia was surprised as she listened to the conversation. They were exchanging pleasantries, and by the expression on Omar’s face, she knew he understood the language too.
The van lurched forward again, and Mia braced herself against Omar. His hand moved to her waist to steady her. The van turned once, then again, heading deeper into the compound. Mia’s heart pounded, and she hoped Omar knew what he was doing.
Every time she caught his gaze, it was steady, unwavering. How could he not be worried? If there was one thing about this man she’d learned in the past seven or eight hours, it was that he was pretty much fearless.
Like I’ve tried to be, but failed.
There was a time she feared little. Well-trained and well-disciplined, she’d been in control— until her mother was blown up on the neighborhood street corner. Mia had moved, of course, unable to stand seeing the site of destruction each day. But the new place hadn’t worked out much better. Within a few weeks, she’d left Jerusalem altogether and had taken a reassignment in Ankara.
Her eyes started to sting as she thought about all she’d left behind, and how she’d even lost touch with her stepfather. The memories were simply too painful. Now, as she met Omar’s gaze, a bit of hope seeped into the hole of her grief. Here was a man who believed her theory, and he’d promised to help her.
Granted, they’d have to get out of this situation alive. Yes, Omar had a gun, but was that enough to allow them to complete the job and get out safely?
Omar’s body heat warmed her through, and she was grateful the chill had lessened.
The van slowed, and Omar’s grip on her waist tightened.
“We’ll have a couple of minutes to get out of the van, but first we need to empty the flour sacks,” Omar whispered. “Be ready.”
Mia nodded, taking a deep breath. Omar moved slightly away from her, and the warmth dissipated, replaced by her racing pulse.
The driver got out and resumed whistling. As soon as the door shut, Omar moved into a crouch and took a knife out of his pocket. He slit the flour sacks at the tops and dumped them out. Then he rolled them up and stuffed them into his waistband.
He held out his hand. “Come on.”
She moved as fast as she could, but every part of her body was cramped and stiff. Once out of the van, Omar closed the rear hatch but not all the way. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a group of bushes. They crouched behind them until the delivery man came out and drove away, the tires of the van kicking up dust in its wake.
Now what? Mia wanted to ask, but she wasn’t about to make any noise.
His fingers intertwined with hers, and she followed his lead as he stood.
They ran, and Mia kept up with him as they moved around the building. In the growing dawn, it reminded her of an embassy— nice stonework, heavily fortressed.
When they stopped in an alcove, Mia caught her breath and asked, “This was a military compound?”
“Former,” Omar said. “They’ve done some renovation. You should see the inside.”
Mia was about to question him when he put a finger to her lips. Her heart thudded. They stood together in silence as a low hum began overhead, growing louder by the second. Mia hadn’t noticed a landing pad for a helicopter, but there had to be one very close.
Omar pointed upward, and Mia nodded, understanding that the copter pad was on the roof. Did that change Omar’s plans? He seemed as determined as ever.
Mia’s breath was calm now, and she met Omar’s gaze. One of his eyebrows lifted slightly. “One more minute,” he said in a hushed voice.
She waited, her mind involuntarily counting the seconds. Omar motioned for her to follow as he stepped out of the alcove. They took about three steps then Omar crouched to the ground. He pried up some sort of heavy plastic covering a window well.
Mia didn’t need to be told what to do. She slipped into the dark hole, Omar following and pulling the covering into place.
Omar reached for her arm, gained his bearings, and whispered, “The commotion of the helicopter leaving will give us a time to grab the artifacts.”
“We’re just going to carry them out? With our bare hands?”
“Not exactly,” Omar said with amusement in his voice.
What did he expect? He was only telling her things play-by-play.
“How then?” Mia asked.
His hand dropped from her arm, and he turned on his phone light. “Hold this,” he said, handing her the phone.
She took it, and he pulled some metal object out of his pocket and popped the window open.
“No alarms?” she said in disbelief.
“Oh, alarms are going off all right, but I’m counting on Jamil’s people being slow to react.” Omar disappeared inside. A second later, his hand came back out. Mia grasped it and joined him inside.
They’d entered a large, cavernous room. Soft lights from the ceiling illuminated glass displays of what seemed to be artifacts. It was like a museum.
“Are these all stolen?” she whispered.
Omar nodded, his eyes scoping out the room. “The Olympic items aren’t in here. Come on. There’s another display room.”
It was then Mia noticed a small red light flashing in the corner by the door. She couldn’t hear an alarm, but a flashing red light was never a good thing. They moved around the display cases, and Omar paused at the door to withdraw his pistol. But before he could the door, it flew open.
A man barreled into Omar, and they struggled until Omar got the upper hand and knocked him out. The gun had fallen to the floor, and Mia retrieved it.
“This way,” Omar said, panting. They moved into the next room. It was similar to the first. Inside were display cases containing artifacts. Omar zigzagged through them, seeming to know exactly what he was looking for. He stopped in front of a case and knelt beside it. Mia crouched next to him.
Omar used some sort of a pick to trigger the lock at the base. The glass lid lifted, and he withdrew the flour sacks from his belt then handed one to Mia. “Get as many as you can. Hurry.”
Mia grabbed artifacts as fast as she could, her stomach clenching as she thought about the ancient relics knocking together in the sack.
“Let’s
go,” Omar said, and Mia twisted the top of her sack.
He led her out into the hall, looking left then right. The hall was empty, but Mia had a feeling it wouldn’t stay that way. For now it was eerily quiet— no alarms, no flashing lights, just silence. When they reached the end of the corridor, Omar opened a door. Shining his light, Mia saw a stairwell.
“We’re going to a lower level,” Omar said. He took the light, then started down, motioning for Mia to follow.
The stairs were narrow, with only room for them to walk single file, and they spiraled into dark nothingness.
“Wait,” Omar said, his soft footsteps halting. Mia caught herself in time and stopped without bumping into him. He switched his light off, and they stood in absolute black. The only sound Mia could hear was their almost imperceptible breathing.
Then the staircase rattled, and the whole building seemed to vibrate. Mia grabbed Omar’s arm to steady herself. When the shaking stopped, she said, “What was that?”
“They know we’re here,” he whispered, coming up one step to be closer to her.
“So what, they created an earthquake?”
“Not exactly. They caved in the tunnel I was planning to take.”
Mia wished she could see Omar’s face, but the darkness was too complete. “What tunnel?”
“The one that led out of the compound. It would have given us a quick exit,” Omar said. Another vibration rattled the stairwell, and Mia’s grip tightened on his arm.
“Now what?”
Omar seemed to hesitate; Mia wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing. “We go up, unless you have a get-away truck parked outside.”
“No, not this time.” She turned her body so she faced the ascending stairs. “What’s up there?”
“Hopefully a helicopter.”
“The one we heard taking off?”
“There should be two,” Omar said. “But we need to go as quickly as possible.”
Omar moved past her, leading the way again with the light. Mia started up after him. Within minutes, her thighs burned. She was in plenty good shape, but a sleepless night and no food, plus carrying at least fifty pounds in her sack, took its toll.
She was breathing hard, but trying to control it. She didn’t want Omar to think she couldn’t keep up. When they reached the original landing, he didn’t say anything as he took her pack, hoisted it with his own over his shoulder then started up the next flight of stairs.
“Omar,” Mia protested, but he was already several steps ahead.
She climbed after him then came to a stop when it appeared they’d reached the next landing. They were still in the dark, but some light permeated the area, making everything gray.
“Maybe we should call for backup,” Mia said.
“You are my backup,” Omar said, and if there had been more light, she knew she’d see him smiling.
In truth, Mia was scared. Omar had already been attacked by one man, and they’d blown up a tunnel.
Omar’s hand found hers. “Hey, I told you to trust me. We’ll be out of here soon.”
Chapter Five
Mia didn’t see how they could get out of this situation if the alarms were going off throughout the building, but she let Omar lead her across the landing. He set down both sacks and crouched. She stayed quiet, waiting for his next instructions. She heard him move, and then a sliver of light popped up, showing through a door Omar had cracked open.
He had one hand on the door handle, the other on his gun. He looked back at her, and when their gazes met, he tilted his head. Mia got his message—bring the bags— and gave a nod.
Omar watched as she got a good grip on each sack and hefted them over her shoulders.
His attention shifted, and a few seconds later, he was through the door, running across the roof of the building. Mia followed, staggering to keep up and ignoring the burning in her thighs and calves. She wouldn’t let herself fall behind.
The roof was multi-leveled with what looked like a set of storage units in the middle. Omar stopped behind one unit, keeping his gaze on the sky. Mia stopped next to him and set down the sacks. In the distance, she could see the copter they’d heard on its way to the landing pad— which was about a dozen meters away.
Omar motioned with his finger to follow him into a crouch.
The air seemed to tremble with the copter’s approaching blades. Omar grabbed a sack and motioned for Mia to do the same, but instead of holding his position to wait for the approaching helicopter, he moved around to the other side of the building, Mia following.
A second landing pad was there, along with a second helicopter. “Do you know how to fly?” Omar asked her above the sound of the approaching copter.
“No,” she said.
His gaze moved from her to the dormant copter. “Hope you said your prayers then. Let’s go.”
Before Mia could question him— not that it was even possible right now— Omar motioned for her to follow. They ran toward the copter, and Omar yanked the door open, ushering her inside then handing up his sack.
“You know how to fly this thing?” Mia asked, as she watched him flip switches, reconsider, then flip them the other way.
“I’ve had some training,” he said.
The other helicopter landed, and the two men inside started pointing at them, obviously recognizing that Mia and Omar weren’t authorized.
“They see us,” she said, but Omar seemed absorbed in trying to figure out how to run the helicopter. The engine started up, and the blades slowly rotated.
Mia’s heart pounded. Although it looked like Omar might have finally figured it out, more than one person was advancing on them, weapons drawn. She grabbed Omar’s arm and slid down in her seat, expecting a bullet to come flying through the windshield any second.
“Omar, put your hands up,” she said. “They’re right outside.”
He lifted a hand, and at first Mia thought he would comply. Instead he flipped one of the overhead switches. “Hang on,” he said, and the helicopter jerked upward.
Mia screamed and ducked as bullets hit the windshield. The helicopter careened to the right, and bullets continued peppering the windshield, but they didn’t penetrate. Mia’s stomach churned as the helicopter rose several meters then dropped suddenly.
Omar had flown past the building, so they didn’t hit anything when they dropped. He cursed and flipped some more switches. Mia gripped whatever she could hold on to, hoping she wouldn’t throw up. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster that had derailed.
“Are you crazy? I thought you said you could fly,” Mia said.
“That’s not exactly what I said,” Omar answered through gritted teeth as he maneuvered the copter above a group of trees. They were flying at a tilt. Mia didn’t see how this could end well.
Omar’s face was perspiring… not a comforting sight. She twisted and looked behind her. To her horror, the first helicopter had left the landing pad.
“They’re coming after us!” Mia shouted. “Do you see them back there?”
“We’re almost to the tanks.”
“Tanks?” Mia exhaled. “You called for backup?”
Omar flashed a half smile. “Of course. I’m not that much of an idiot.” He nodded his head. “See up there? Past the ridge.”
Mia strained to see any semblance of a tank. As the helicopter rose, dark forms came into view. Three SUVs, with police lights flashing, came tearing over a ridge a couple of kilometers away. “Those aren’t tanks.”
Omar cursed. “They never follow my orders… I told them to send tanks.”
Mia snapped her head around to see how close the other helicopter was. “They’re almost on top of us!” she shouted. “We’re not going to make it.”
Omar kept his focus straight ahead, neither speeding up nor trying to maneuver away. It was like he refused to see anything but the flashing lights ahead.
“Hurry!” Mia ducked as the other helicopter bore down on them, as if she could avoid a collision by bein
g lower.
Suddenly their copter stalled, and Omar frantically adjusted switches.
“What’s going on?” Mia stared at blinking red lights on the panel. The helicopter started to spin, slowly then faster. She grabbed Omar’s arm, too petrified to scream as they dropped.
“Relax your body,” Omar commanded. “The impact will break fewer bones if you’re relaxed.”
Mia wanted to scream, but instead she tried to let her every part of her body soften. Seconds later, they hit the ground hard. The helicopter tilted and slid to a stop on its side. Mia thudded against her seat, nearly passing out, but she took careful, even breaths until the haze and confusion started to lift.
“Are you all right?” Omar asked, undoing her seatbelt. She nodded, as she wasn’t sure she could speak yet. He scanned her. “Can you move everything okay? Nothing broken?”
Mia lifted her arms and then her legs. She’d probably have a few bruises, but she had no shooting pain anywhere. The helicopter had tipped to the right, and her door was on the ground… no way she could get out through it. She looked up to find Omar still watching her.
“We’re alive, right?” she said, her thoughts spinning with all that had happened.
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes amused. But then he sobered. “Uh… sorry about the landing. It’s been awhile since I’ve flown, and at my last training… well, things didn’t go well.”
She realized she was staring into those deep brown eyes, noticing how they were nearly black. “You’re the worst pilot ever,” she said, finding it hard to breathe normally with him so close. “I don’t know whether to slap you or...” She flushed, realizing she was going to say kiss you. It wasn’t what she meant, but it had almost slipped out.
Omar’s brows rose. “Or… thank me?” he practically whispered.
She wanted him to move back to give her some space, but then again, she didn’t want him to move at all. What was wrong with her? Maybe she’d hit her head and hadn’t realized it. “Yes, I need to thank you… for not killing me.”
He nodded slightly but looked a bit confused at the turn in the conversation. He looked adorable— this confident, daring man at a loss. Without letting herself think about it too much, she wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his face toward hers. She pressed her mouth against his, and for a second he didn’t move. Then one of his hands brushed her cheek and slid behind her head, pulling her close.
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