“You’re emotional.”
“Am I?” She threw him a cold glare.
“You always shut down on the outside when you’re really upset. I know you, Yael. Whatever name you take on, you’re still you.”
“Fuck you.” Her blood boiled.
She’d spent years with Baron, first as his wife, then as his trainee, and later as his agent. Always near his bright star, but too far away to touch him. Maybe she’d never loved him, maybe she’d never really known what love was—until Luke.
“See there? That’s you.” He spread his hands toward the snoozing Aegis soldiers. “You think this is the answer? You’re emotionally compromised.”
“Because I love Luke? Yes, I am compromised. And I’ll fix this.”
Baron stared at her.
“You were the perfect agent,” he said softly.
“I used to be. I don’t belong to you—or Mossad—anymore.” She shoved a few odds and ends into the pack.
“You know, Luke dug his hole with Nador all on his own. It’s not your responsibility to fix this.”
“Fuck you, Baron. I’m not leaving Luke there. It’s too convenient that the mercs would raid here. Where I was. Now. Zach has to be involved. He’d make it his business to know who hated Luke and why. It’s too convenient. Why can’t you see that?”
“I never disagreed with you. It makes sense.”
“Then what’s your problem?” She slung the pack over her shoulders. The rest of the kit was downstairs.
“You were never this…passionate. Before, I mean.”
“Before—when? I used to believe in my mission.”
“And you don’t now?”
“No. The only thing that matters is stopping Zach and getting Luke back. The rest is your problem.”
“I see.” He drew shapes on the tabletop. “I meant… when we were married.”
She clamped her lips shut, refusing to speak the truth. At some point, she’d cared deeply about him. A part of her would always wish Baron well, but she didn’t love him anymore. What she felt for Luke was…an inferno in comparison to the tortured emotions of her younger self.
“I was never kind to you. It’s the one thing I regret.” Baron folded his hands over his lap. “Since you seem to be determined to get yourself killed, allow me to apologize. There are many things I regret. My callousness to you is one of them. I could have been…kinder. More compassionate.”
“You were already married to your work when we met. I just filled the void.”
“You’re right. I thought in the beginning we would grow to like one another. I’ve always respected you, you know that? You never shrank from what had to be done, then or now. But I don’t think you ever loved me. You were told to. I remember your mother telling you to the morning we were married. You were so scared. I wanted to hug you. You were perfect, though.”
Perfect?
She’d been terrified. A bit of kindness would have soothed her fears, the nightmares. A little consideration would have gone a long way. Instead, he’d gone back to work and left her alone. The same way he had any other time she’d needed him.
There was no point to digging deeper into the past—not when the present needed her. The Aegis soldiers wouldn’t sleep forever.
Abigail rocked forward on the balls of her feet, but she couldn’t take that first step out of the door.
“Your wife—are you nice to her?”
Baron’s smile was tight and tense. “She doesn’t expect me to be nice, or even there. I suppose I miss what I never knew I had.”
“But she has the children?”
“No. No, we never conceived.”
Abigail swallowed. She’d always assumed… She’d never wanted to know for certain because it would have been too painful…
He’d divorced her over her inability to give him children. And he still didn’t have any. He could have adopted, stopped working long enough to procreate with his wife—but it hadn’t been that important after all.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. It was lip service. She wasn’t sorry. She was pissed. Again. No part of her wanted him, but for years she’d carried the emotional baggage of his creation. No more.
Baron’s love, his kindness, had been conditional. If she’d been the perfect wife, the model mother, he might have cared for her. Luke loved her even though he shouldn’t. Even though she’d pushed him away at every turn. She didn’t deserve that. She’d given him dozens of reasons why not to—and still, he cared so deeply that he might end up dead because of her.
“I’m glad that you’ve found someone,” Baron said. His gaze was…strange. “I guess I’m sorry it wasn’t me after all.”
“We would never work out.”
Baron didn’t make her smile or laugh. He couldn’t make her forget who she’d been, what she was. Luke lifted her burdens—he was her Atlas, holding her world together on his back. She’d never have known what love was if it weren’t for Luke. And though she may never fully comprehend how to love him back, how to show him what he meant to her…she could try. She could save him. And if she died doing it, so be it.
His life was worth saving.
“What is your name?”
“My name is Hassan. I told you that.” Zacharias could smell the stench of his own fear. A predator like Nador could no doubt smell it on him, too. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He pulled against the bonds holding him to the chair.
Unlike Luke, who got a cinderblock cell to stew in, Nador had Zacharias in what looked like a torture chamber.
His calculated risk coming here was just that—a risk. And the trap had snapped shut on him instead of Yael.
“He called you Zach.” Nador clenched Zachiaras’ face in his big, meaty palm, forcing him to look up at the mercenary.
“My name is Hassan.” Zacharias stared Nador right in the eye, putting all the truth behind the statement that he could. “Ask yourself, what does he gain by pitting us against each other? He’s trying to deflect your attention, get you to ignore him. What’s he planning down there?”
“It’s all too neat. First you. Then him.” Nador let go of Zacharias and took a step back. Nador folded his arms over his chest, studying Zacharias.
It was too neat. Zacharias had simplified it all down into an appealing package. And that was a mistake. In Nador’s position, Zacharias would have split. Shut the whole thing down. Gotten out as fast as possible. But he’d thought he could manipulate the mercenary. Point him at Luke and Yael, and take them out before anyone was the wiser. Solve all his problems.
At least the merchandise was safe. All the information he’d stashed away. If it came down to it, Zacharias could trade something for his life. Nador was a man who wanted things—money, power, virgins. Zacharias could supply. He wouldn’t get what it was worth, but he couldn’t turn a profit if he was dead.
Which meant he needed to get out of here. The longer he was radio silent, the more likely his interested customers would get cold feet. He had too many irons in the fire to disappear, for any reason.
Fuck.
If Luke knew who he was, who he really was, then Yael did as well. She was too good, too resourceful to not already know who’d taken Luke and where to find them. Over Yael’s years in Mossad she’d built a network of sources, informants, and associates who were completely unconnected to the organization. And any one of those might be able to tell her where Nador was—and Zacharias by extension.
He had to get away from Nador. Before the fireworks started.
Because Yael would come for Luke. And when she did, Zacharias couldn’t be here.
Luke was so tired he couldn’t hold his mouth shut. His breath stirred the dirt on the floor. He hadn’t known cuticles could ache.
The guard’s steps carried him beyond the cell Nador’s men had transferred him to.
By Luke’s calculations, he had another four and a half minutes before the guard made his next circuit.
He pushed to his feet, sh
aking off the pain.
Yes, there’d be bruises, but he’d had worse.
Pretending was a whole lot easier when there was some pain to focus on.
The floors were concrete, the walls cinderblock, and the windows and doors were secured with iron bars. But the roof? The boards were moldy, and in places the rot was so bad he could see straight through to the outside where the shingles were flaking off. They were one bad storm away from losing it. But Nador’s typical hostage was the type to look around them, see a prison, and give up.
Luke stepped onto the bench, the only furniture provided to him besides the toilet-bucket, and pulled himself up into the rafters. He didn’t even need to get through the roof, just over the blocks and into the next cell. The door to it was standing open.
Nador’s escape in Mexico from the joint sting had bothered not only Luke, but Mason as well. Someone as evil as Nador needed to be stopped. Without more resources—or a reason—they hadn’t been able to do anything. But it hadn’t stopped Luke from digging.
The mercenaries bread and butter was kidnapping for ransom. Which explained the jail cell wing off the main building. They’d do a job, likely something they were hired to do, kidnap someone as they wrapped the gig up, and head home, but not before issuing their ransom. And if they weren’t paid? People died. A lot of people, judging by the number of cells.
Luke wiggled a board loose finally, just in time. He tucked it under his arm and lowered himself slowly to the bench, holding his breath the whole time. The guard’s steps didn’t speed up, and no one called out an alarm.
Good.
He stashed the board next to the door, out of sight.
Thirty seconds to spare.
At this rate he could be out of here and back on his way to finding Abigail by nightfall.
Luke laid down on his stomach, one arm folded under him, the other thrown out, and his mouth open. His mind started up the mantra again.
I’m in pain. Everything hurts. I didn’t know cuticles could throb…
Zacharias could only see out of one eye. Nador had focused on the right side of his face. The man favored a good backhand.
If this didn’t work out, he was dead.
Nador would keep him alive and milk him for all he had, but it wasn’t Nador Zacharias was afraid of.
It was Yael.
He had to be out of here before she arrived, which would be any minute now.
The door swung open.
Zacharias’ head was too heavy to lift.
“You still alive, Jew?”
“Did the transfer go through?” Zacharias asked.
He loved money. It made everything easier. No task was impossible with the right number of zeros.
“Yes.”
“We have a deal?” He lifted his head and peered into the dimness toward the voice.
“We do.” The stony-faced guard couldn’t be more than seventeen. A kid. They were always the easiest.
“Good. Get me out of here.”
“Not yet. Too many eyes. I was just making sure you hadn’t died, yet.”
“Get on with it,” he snapped.
The kid glared for a moment longer, then shut the door.
A little longer…
He could hold out and maybe still make his meeting in the morning. If he did, that payday would keep him going for a year or more.
18.
Abigail slowed the glorified dune buggy to a crawl and checked her bearings again.
Nador’s Libyan compound was almost three hundred and fifty kilometers from the Aegis headquarters in Egypt by road. She was able to shave off nearly forty by avoiding roads altogether with the Sand Viper ATV.
She should be nearing the compound soon, and that meant patrols.
Hopefully they didn’t miss her, or she’d have to be spot-on with her targeting.
Abigail double checked the straps on the passenger seat. She’d only brought gas and the backpack with her. While she’d have preferred to stash the pack in the back, C4 and gasoline shouldn’t mix. At least not with her still in the driver’s seat.
She needed to swing to the north a bit. She’d drifted too far south and risked missing her target altogether. Turning the wheel, she shifted the ATV into gear and shot forward.
This whole plan was crazy.
It might not work.
But she hoped it did.
At least if she failed, Luke’s team wouldn’t be far behind. If Salma hadn’t messed up the dosage, the guys would wake up soon. Maybe an hour, give or take. They’d be groggy, which would slow them down more, but she didn’t doubt for an instant they’d be after her—and Luke—as soon as they were able.
If she didn’t get Luke out of there, they would.
Nador knew enough for his men to search for her, but did he know who she was?
There was a chance she was walking into a trap. That Zacharias had this all set up to tighten a noose around her neck. But if Nador knew who—and what—Zach was, or used to be, he’d kill him.
She had no way of knowing if she was walking into a situation where Zach and Nador were working for each other, if they’d become enemies, or if Nador even knew what he was doing looking for her. Zach could be there, or he could be long gone. She was gambling with her life. That they wouldn’t kill her on sight, which would be the smartest thing to do.
Sand stung her face as the ATV picked up speed. The sun was almost at its zenith, marking the noon hour. If she had any luck at all, Luke would be free by this time tomorrow. And then…she couldn’t think about it. Leaving him once had been hard enough. Was she strong enough to do it again?
Abigail had spent half her life doing exactly what she was told. Being the person she was supposed to be. Wearing and eating precisely what her alias would like. She should be used to not getting what she wanted. It should be easier to walk away from Luke, but it wasn’t. Maybe because she knew that once she was out of his life long enough, he’d stop caring for her. He’d move on. While she continued to wallow in these stolen pieces of his life.
There would always be evil in the world. That was a given. But this evil—Nador and Zacharias—she could handle. She could do something about this.
The ATV lurched to one side, and she yelped, clinging to the wheel and scrambling to crank the vehicle in the other direction. The Sand Viper roared forward, eating up the ground in a cloud of dust and exhaust. She pushed her melodramatic thoughts to the back of her mind. There was no room for distractions right now. One wrong turn of the wheel, and she could send the ATV cart wheeling down a rocky incline.
The wheels hit the smoother ground, and she pressed the accelerator to the ground. Plumes of sand rose up behind her, a good calling card for where to find her, if ever there was one.
The desert sands of Libya stretched out around her.
It was easy to see the rocky rise on which Nador had built his fortress. This far out, no one cared what he did, so long as he kept to himself. Zain’s research indicated the mesa-like hill also boasted a man-made oasis. Her guess was that Nador had found a well with a high water yield and built around it. Hoarding all that water meant keeping the nomadic people away and ensuring he had no neighbors. In the desert, whoever controlled the water controlled the people. Out here, all by himself, Nador was king. A bloody, small-minded king, but a king all the same. And his rule would be complete.
Another plume of sand started up off to her right.
She’d been spotted.
It was about fucking time.
Luke could almost fit his upper body through the hole he’d made into the next cell. The curse of having wide shoulders meant more work. But he was close. Another half hour and he’d be able to overtake the guard, change clothes with him, and split, maybe before anyone realized he didn’t belong.
He still had next to no idea where he was or what was around them. But he’d figure that out once he had to. Right now, he needed to play dead.
I hurt. Everything aches so bad.
The guard paused outside the cell.
Luke moaned just a little.
The guard muttered something under his breath and continued his patrol, up and down the long structure.
Luke’s best guess was that the prison wing was off the main building where he’d initially been questioned. From what little he’d seen, other buildings were built in a circle, surrounding what had appeared to be some sort of pool.
A new voice echoed down the hall. The guard raised his voice and turned.
Luke remained exactly where he was.
What was going on?
Why the sudden change in routine?
He held perfectly still, barely even breathing while he waited and listened.
A distant rumble resounded through the concrete floor. Rock transmitted sound over great distances. Something big was rolling this way. Would the compound empty soon?
Voices from outside yelled at each other, back and forth.
The rumbling was closer now. He could hear the chug of a diesel engine and…something else.
He pushed to his feet and crossed to the door. The guard was nowhere to be seen.
Luke stepped up onto the bench, grasped the metal rafter and hoisted himself into the beams. He had to reach for the one above him, but once he had it he could push a shingle up and peer out onto the courtyard.
At first he saw nothing. Just people milling around, most watching the road leading up to the buildings.
A truck, an ATV, and a beat-up Jeep rolled into view, one after another.
Two men got out of the Jeep, a third from behind the wheel of the ATV, and a man climbed out of the truck, hauling a fifth, much smaller figure out behind him.
Abigail…
Luke’s stomach knotted up and his mouth went dry.
How had she gotten herself caught? And why? Where were the guys? They wouldn’t have allowed her to come on her own.
Which meant they had a plan.
Shit.
He watched them drag Abigail and the contents of the dune buggy into the main building.
The wood. He had to get rid of the evidence of his attempted escape before the guards came for him or brought her to a cell.
Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4) Page 22