Autumn Anthology

by Heather B. Moore

  And he kissed her back. Plainly, he was no longer confused. Fire spread through Mia as his kiss deepened. She supposed she’d thought about this when she’d first spied on him at the bar, but it wasn’t until this moment that she wondered if he’d considered it as well.

  His other hand cradled her face as his kiss slowed, and Mia was able to catch her breath. Then reality slammed through her.

  She pulled away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean— it wasn’t…” She decided to stop talking.

  Omar’s eyes searched hers as if he was about to ask her something, but instead he said, “We have to get out of here in case a fire starts.” He straightened above her and shoved the pilot’s door open.

  “Where’s—” she started then took another much needed breath. “The other helicopter?”

  Everything was silent, or maybe it was Mia’s hearing.

  “Turned around,” Omar said.

  She stared at his hand, which was extended to help her out of the wreckage. “How?”

  Omar grasped her hand, tugging her upward. “Climb out, and I’ll show you.”

  Mia climbed out of the helicopter, feeling aches where she didn’t know she had muscles. Once she was out, Omar joined her, standing close, but not touching. The butterflies in her stomach about the incident changed into something else as she watched the approaching SUVs, about a hundred meters away now, coming fast and hard. A fourth truck with a missile launcher in the bed had a gunman at the helm.

  “Is that legal?” Mia asked, staring at the launcher.

  Omar wore a grin. “I don’t think so, but it makes a pretty good tank. And a nice deterrent.”

  Mia turned to see the retreating helicopter. Her heart still pounded from kissing Omar, or maybe it was from nearly dying; she was sure it would be awhile before she comprehended everything that had happened. It had all gone so fast, and she didn’t know exactly how much had been planned by Omar, but the fact was…

  “We’d better get the artifacts,” she said.

  Omar nodded. “Done. You were a bit dazed when we landed.”

  She stole a glance at him, and he winked at her. That woke the butterflies again. She looked away, hoping she wasn’t blushing. The two sacks were on the other side of the helicopter.

  “You rescued the artifacts before me?”

  “I knew you’d be fine,” Omar said in a soft voice.

  Mia shook her head, holding back her own smile. He was crazy, but his methods had somehow worked. They’d recovered the artifacts, and they were both still alive.

  “Yeah, nothing’s broken,” Mia said, taking a step back. Somehow they’d ended up standing too close.

  The first SUV arrived, and the next several moments were a flurry of questions and activity. Omar took a call from David Levy, and Mia was whisked into one of the SUVs with a medic asking her a million questions.

  She tried to see what Omar was doing, but after he got off the phone, he climbed into the truck with the launcher and was driven off. Mia stared after him for a few minutes, wondering what she’d just done.

  Chapter Six

  Mia could have slept for two days straight, but her phone only let her sleep for seven hours. By the time the sun was up, she was on her second cup of coffee as she scrolled through the intelligence reports sent over by her boss.

  It looked like Omar had written up the reports already, and now all Mia had to do was approve them. She wondered when he’d slept, if at all. After their rescue, Mia had been taken to headquarters for a couple of hours for debriefing, separately from Omar. She hadn’t seen him since he was driven away.

  She smiled as she imagined Omar checking out the missile launcher. As she read through the report, she continued to smile. Although she’d been scared to death half the time, reading back on the experience made her remember Omar’s little quirks. Like how he seemed to always have a backup plan. How things like the escape tunnel being blown up didn’t bother him. How he’d carried her sack when she was struggling to keep up. How he did what he said he’d do— recover the artifacts and get the two of them out of there.

  She’d trusted him with her life, and he had protected her.

  Her eyes widened as she read Omar’s description of hijacking the helicopter. He made it sound like they’d taken off smoothly, hadn’t been shot, and hadn’t nearly careened to their deaths. There was no mention of Mia’s panicked screaming. Thankfully, there was no mention of the incident.

  Reading the report made the recovery sound perfectly executed. David Levy could read between the lines well enough, which was why she’d been sent home to bed.

  Her phone buzzed, and Mia checked the incoming text.

  Awake yet? Want to meet at the CoffeeShop on Azza? I promise not to take you on a disastrous helicopter ride.

  Butterflies went crazy in Mia’s stomach. Omar hadn’t signed his name, but it could only be him. How did he have her cell number? Then she realized she shouldn’t question that— this was Omar.

  Already had my coffee, she typed back. Her pulse fluttered as she waited for his reply.

  A few seconds later, it came: Me too. Maybe we can order tea. Twenty minutes?

  Mia smiled and wrote: Ok.

  It took almost that long for Mia to shower and dress. She lived about a ten-minute walk from CoffeeShop, and was sure Omar had planned a place close by her apartment. She was in no hurry; Omar could wait for her. When she arrived at the café, she didn’t see him immediately. Finally she found him sitting behind an arbor of grape vines that had turned yellow and orange with the autumn weather, making him mostly obscured from the street view. His back was to her, and he wore a dark fitted shirt and Levi’s. He was scanning a newspaper, but when Mia approached, he set it down and checked something on his phone.

  Her heart pinged at the sight of him, and her mind went back to the incident. What did he think about it? What did he think about her? And why did she care?

  “Working already?” she said, stopping a couple of meters behind him, out of view.

  He turned and stood. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze for a few seconds. “You look great,” he said, and she felt her face warm.

  “I’m alive.”

  One side of his mouth lifted into a smile. “You are definitely alive,” he said, stepping toward her and kissing her cheek.

  Mia hadn’t expected that and was about to say something, maybe apologize for being so forward in the helicopter, but he’d already moved away and pulled out a chair for her.

  “Is Levy going to give you a break?” he asked.

  Mia sat in the chair he’d offered, passing close enough to know he wore some sort of cologne. Not strong, but evident. “I have the weekend off.”

  Omar’s brow furrowed as he sat down. “That’s not much, considering you just closed a major operation.”

  “What about you? How much time do you have off?” Mia asked, curious.

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug then leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I found a cool feature that disables all GPS tracking on my phone.”

  Mia stared at him. “And your point is…?”

  “Levy can’t track me, so I can take off as much time as I want.”

  “And how is that effective for job productivity?”

  Omar smiled. “It’s not in the least. But you must admit, I get the job done— just not on a normal timeline.”

  “I can agree to that,” Mia said, finding that she was smiling back, and the butterflies had returned in full force.

  A waitress came up, and Omar looked up at her. “Tea, please. What do you recommend?”

  Her bright red lipsticked mouth widened into a smile. “What do you like?”

  “I’ll try anything… as long as it’s fresh.”

  “Everything here is fresh,” she said, her smile growing wider, if possible.

  “Then I’ll take your freshest tea,” Omar said with a wink.

  The waitress laughed. “I’ll make sure it’s extra fresh. Anything else?”

/>   Omar glanced at Mia, and she shook her head. She was having way too much fun watching the waitress flirt with Omar.

  When the woman walked away, Mia leaned forward. “You have horrible pickup lines.”

  Omar blew out a breath. “I wasn’t trying to pick her up.”

  “Oh really?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I was just being nice.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  “Why would I flirt with that woman when I’ve got you sitting across from me?”

  Mia straightened, her face flushing. “You’re saving it for me?”

  He held her gaze for a few seconds, not saying anything. “I wasn’t going to take that blonde woman home, you know.”

  The woman at the bar. “Why were you there anyway?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. Of course, that’s really no excuse. I’m a bit of an insomniac.”

  Mia found herself smiling despite her thudding heart. “Really? That’s odd.”

  Omar’s hand seemed to inch closer, or maybe it was her imagination. But she found she didn’t mind at all. Reading him was a bit like reading the back of a cereal box in another language— familiar, because the cereal was the same, just like Omar was a man like any other, yet completely foreign because, well... Omar wasn’t like any man she knew.

  “Why is it odd?” he asked. “Fifteen percent of adults suffer from insomnia.”

  “Because it means we have something in common.”

  Omar laughed, and soon Mia was laughing too.

  “That’s all we’ve got in common, huh?” he said, lowering his voice. “I think we have a lot more than that.”

  Mia’s face felt like it was on fire. Was he talking about the kiss?

  His hand had definitely moved now. In fact, his fingers brushed hers. Mia met his gaze. Why bother fighting it? She wanted him to kiss her again. A soft chuckle sounded from Omar before he leaned across the table and did just that.

  Mia’s stomach flipped. They were sitting at a café, half concealed, but still in public. This must be breaking all kinds of rules. Still, she kissed him back, warmth pulsing through her as his hands moved from her face to her neck.

  She sighed, and he pulled away slightly.

  “Do we have something else in common?” he asked.

  “Apparently,” Mia whispered, feeling like her heart was going to pound out of her chest.

  He moved back, but one of his hands captured hers, threading their fingers together. Tingles ran through her at his touch, but she deliberately ignored anything that common sense might be telling her. She was probably violating a coworker code of no dating, or at least no kissing, but it was really hard to think straight right now.

  The waitress showed up with their tea; she was a bit less smiley now. She bustled around the table, much more business-like than before. Mia caught Omar gazing at her.

  She felt herself starting to blush so she focused on stirring the steaming tea. When the waitress left, Mia said, “So why are we meeting again?”

  Omar shifted his gaze and fished a thumb drive out of his pocket. He slid it over to her. “I copied some files on here that you might find interesting. They’re highly classified and… relate to the bombing incident that involved your mother.”

  The butterflies that had been in Mia’s stomach turned to stone. She picked up the thumb drive, feeling her throat tighten. “What’s on it?”

  “The complete profile of the bombing suspect. You’ll find a lot of coincidences… things that shouldn’t line up with a random attack.”

  Mia nodded, her breath coming short. She turned over the thumb drive, her hand shaking. “Will you read it with me?”

  Omar didn’t even hesitate. “Sure.”

  Mia put the thumb drive in her pocket then sipped her tea, letting the hot liquid calm her. They sat in silence for several moments, which was fine with Mia. Omar ignored the texts that kept chiming on his phone.

  Finally, Mia said, “How did you get this information if it’s classified?”

  Omar hesitated at that, and Mia wished she could read what was going on in his mind this once. “It’s probably better if I don’t say. But I can tell you that it cost me a few hours of sleep.”

  “Did you have to break into any place or steal another helicopter?”

  Omar smiled. “Nothing that drastic. But I did get a nasty bruise.”

  “Oh really? Where?”

  “I can’t exactly show you where, at least not in public.”

  Mia’s heart rate sped up. She didn’t know how he made that happen, and even though she laughed, she chastised herself inside. This guy was a little too flirty for her taste, and it seemed that every woman who met him thought so too. And he had no fear. Not the best combination to get involved with.

  But he’d given her something priceless— something she’d almost given up hope of finding. Was kissing him a little so terrible? It wasn’t like she’d let her heart get involved.

  Mia only finished half her tea because she couldn’t stop thinking about what could be on the thumb drive, and after Omar insisting on paying for their tea, they left the café.

  “My place or yours?” he asked, guiding her around the tables, hand at her lower back.

  Mia tried not to think about his touch. “Where do you live?”

  “It would involve a taxi ride then possibly a motorcycle ride.”

  “Motorcycle, huh? Yours?”

  “I’m not sure whose,” Omar said, as they exited the café. He slipped his hand in hers.

  Mia let him hold her hand as they walked along the sidewalk in the direction of her place, although. “Do you ever use your own transportation?”

  “Like what, a car?”

  “Or anything. A bike… or maybe a truck?”

  “I have a car, but it’s in the repair shop.”

  Mia stopped under a tree and faced him. “Let me guess. You used it in a job, were chased through the streets of Jerusalem, then ended up wrecking it.”

  Omar’s amused gaze soaked her in. “No, more like the transmission went out… no reason, just getting old, I guess.”

  “No reason?” Mia said, a bit disappointed.

  Omar leaned toward her, his mouth next to her ear. “It was right after I drove it through the streets of Jerusalem at 3:00 a.m.,” he whispered, “being chased by Mr. Jamil himself, though I can’t confirm it.”

  Mia pulled away from him, laughing. “I knew it.”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “Maybe,” she said, turning to walk again, her hand still in Omar’s.

  “I guess we’re going to your place then?”

  “Much safer than yours, I think,” Mia said.

  Chapter Seven

  Mia re-read the files on her laptop from the thumb drive Omar had given her. She took a few more notes then sat back, rubbing her eyes. She’d been at it for two hours. Omar was in the living room, asleep on the couch. After the first hour and answering a million of her questions, he couldn’t stop yawning. It turned out he hadn’t slept at all the night before, and hardly any the night they’d spent in the bakery van.

  Mia reviewed her notes, her stomach churning at coincidences that were way too convenient to be anything but connected to her mother’s death. First, the bomb was detonated by a live trigger, meaning that the bomber had been watching for Mia.

  A quick glance at the framed picture on the kitchen wall reaffirmed to Mia, and had made clear to Omar, that Mia and her mom looked a lot alike. When “Mia” reached the corner, the car bomb was detonated.

  Tears stung her eyes… All that she’d suspected had now been made clear. The fear and regret that had been in her heart since her mother’s death had now intensified. The truth was staring her in the face.

  Her gaze went back to the name she’d written down. The bombing suspect was in jail, but the A’zam organization, which he worked for, hadn’t been implicated. In a country like Israel, there were so many branches of larger terrorist organizations that the government focused on
larger pods, often ignoring the smaller groups.

  Mia rested her head in her hands, tears dripping onto the kitchen table. She didn’t care if this had been only a two-man operation; it had to be stopped. The bomber had been hired, and now he was incarcerated, but the mastermind had to be caught as well.

  She thought back to the case she’d been involved with at the time. It had been a high-security case, but nothing that had made her particularly concerned about death threats. A couple of million dollars in paintings had been stolen from a private collector in Jordan, and when Mia headed the recovery operation, everything went smoothly.

  The paintings had been recovered near the Sinai border, just before the transport vehicle crossed into Egypt. Mia had worn her best disguise, yet she knew that with digital imaging, an advanced tech program could have matched her profile. She should have known better, relocated, and sent her mother to a secure location.

  Mia blew out a breath of frustration and closed her laptop with a bang. She scrubbed her hands through her hair. How could she have been so stupid? Her confidence had cost her mother’s life.

  She stood abruptly; she had to do something. Shoving a chair out of the way, she decided to shower then pack up her place. She wouldn’t risk staying here another night. Who knew what kind of fallout there’d be after the Jamil heist? She’d have to ask her boss to set her up in a safe house somewhere.

  Maybe she’d made a mistake returning to Jerusalem.

  She’d do whatever it took to find the A’zam operatives. She walked into the hallway only to be met by Omar, who looked like he’d just woken up.

  “Hey,” he said, taking one look at her, and pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  She let herself melt against him, feeling tears coming fast. She was a mess, she knew, and didn’t want to blubber to anyone. But Omar was here, and his arms around her were comforting— or at least, they were holding her up for now.