Wicked Games: The Extended Edition (Steele Security #1)

by A. D. Justice

  Hot, frustrated tears slowly rolled over her cheeks as she relived every moment with Noah that she could recall. She inhaled a deep, calming breath and she focused on the positives. Noah was a good man and he had a very caring side that not many got to see. She was a fortunate recipient of that side of him, and she would beg him for forgiveness of her distance if she had to.

  “I’m really not usually so morbid,” she cried. She wiped her tears away and retrieved her pen and paper. She wrote down her questions for Deron so she wouldn’t forget the points she needed clarification on. “Anything to distract myself from why this feels like the end all of a sudden.”

  In truth, that feeling started before she left Miami. All of the evidence she’d collected, including the foreign bank account numbers, was hidden inside the spare bedroom in Noah’s house. She’d discovered the place by accident one day. The wood floor plank was loose, creaking loudly when she stepped on it. She carefully pried it up and found the perfect hiding spot for small items. Originally, she’d planned to hide one of Noah’s Christmas presents in there. Before she left for the airport, she made a last minute decision to drop the flash drive with her research saved on it in that little hole in the floor.

  That decision seemed to solidify in her mind that things would not go well for her in Turkey. She’d learned to trust her gut instincts in extreme circumstances and it hadn’t led her astray so far. She silently prayed it was just her hypersensitivity over the subject matter that made it feel different on this trip.

  An hour later, she heard a car pull up, the engine cut off, and a door open and close. Slowly stretching her upper body and craning her neck to peer out the window, she saw a man who very closely resembled Ammar nervously looking around. He appeared to be alone and checking to ensure no one had followed him.

  When he stepped inside the building, Brianna grabbed her backpack and quickly moved to follow him. If he tried to remove the barricades she constructed, she reasoned she’d immediately leave without even looking back.

  When she entered the abandoned house, she found Deron sitting at a makeshift table, which was simply a weathered, square piece of wood on top of an old barrel. It worked, as far as functionality went, so she took a seat on the other pile of flat rocks across from him.

  “Brianna, I presume?” he asked. His accent was just as thick in person as it was on the phone.

  She gave him a single nod in reply. “Ammar?” she asked, purposely mixing up their names.

  He smiled. “Deron. Ammar is my brother you met in Miami. At his apartment.”

  “Deron, it’s nice to meet you. I had to make sure you were really the man who’s supposed to be here,” she explained.

  “Understandable. You’ve traveled a long way, to a country with beliefs and customs very different from your country. I would not have allowed my wife to make such a trip,” he replied.

  The condescension in his voice was cleverly disguised under a thin veil of concern, but she knew it was there nonetheless. She smiled knowingly as she removed her pen and notebook to get to the reason why she was there.

  “I assume you brought the papers with you?” she asked pointedly.

  Deron reached under the table to retrieve the papers from his briefcase and slid them over to her. “Everything is there. You must be certain to not bring attention to those when you leave here. Mix them up and hide them in your other papers. If those are seen, my entire family will be killed.”

  “I’ll be extra careful with them, Deron. Do you have any names of the Americans involved? Anything that would help me identify them?” she asked.

  His black eyes hardened as he assessed her and looked for something to latch onto and put his trust in her. She could feel it in how his eyes implored hers. He wanted to trust her to help him, but feared that she’d carelessly use the information and put his family in jeopardy.

  “It’s the best way I can help you. I can get to the right people, but I need the right information to give them. I’d never give your name or anything that would implicate you. With these papers, I can match the shipping manifests and the money paid to the Americans behind it. But, I need the names in order to keep from using these catalogue copies, so I know where to start,” she clarified.

  “Take this picture with you. This is the man who keeps making trips here, meeting with the rebels, and arranging the shipments,” Deron said as he slid a four-by-six snapshot to Brianna.

  When she picked up the picture, she gasped loudly. Unable to catch her breath, she feared she’d hyperventilate and pass out in front of Deron. He immediately realized she knew the man in the picture and his demeanor completely changed.

  “I’ve made a mistake coming here. I must go,” he snapped as he quickly stood.

  “No, you didn’t make a mistake,” Brianna finally assured him. “I know this man, and part of me suspected him, but I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure until I saw this picture. It’s both good news and bad news for me. I won’t do anything to jeopardize your family, though. I give you my word.”

  “Thank you,” Deron started to speak.

  The sound of cars approaching on the dirt road caught their attention. The hairs on Brianna’s neck stood at full alert, her heart raced, and her chest heaved with rapid breaths.

  “Who did you tell about this meeting?” he demanded. “Who knows?”

  “Only my boyfriend, but he’s still in Miami and he didn’t know exactly where we’d be. Who did you tell?” she asked as panic threatened to overtake her.

  “I only told my brother. He would never turn me in,” Deron spat out at her.

  “We need to get out of here right now. They’re headed in our direction,” Brianna said as she quickly stuffed the papers in her backpack. “Get out of here, Deron,” she commanded.

  She moved along her pre-planned route. She rounded the corner to her car just as the two cars slid to a halt inside the abandoned village. Deron had immediately jumped into his car and moved it out of sight a split second before the others arrived. She didn’t see him on the road, however, so she assumed he’d found a place to hide and wait them out. More likely, he counted on her to be a diversion, to draw the men to her car, and give him the opportunity to safely reach his family.

  If she started the ignition, the sound of the motor would definitely draw attention to her. Then she would have a matter of seconds to take off, but they’d quickly find her on the only road around for miles. Her natural curiosity got the best of her, so she climbed the rock wall to see whom she was up against. As she reached the top, she flattened her body against the sand and dirt ground to avoid being seen. Her eyes landed on an extremely familiar figure. When he turned to face her as he looked around the village, she recognized the man that stood in front of her, without a doubt.

  Richard Hollingsworth himself.

  “Let’s go. No one is here. There’s another abandoned village about fifteen kilometers from here,” one of the men called out.

  Richard remained still for several seconds longer and Brianna held her breath. She silently willed him to leave so she could make a clean getaway. She didn’t move a muscle until Richard got back in the car. When they were well down the road, headed in the opposite direction she needed to go, she hurried to her car.

  Her hands shook uncontrollably as she tried to insert the key in the ignition switch. The adrenalin dump to her system wreaked havoc on the control of her motor skills. With the key finally in place, she rolled down the window and listened for any sounds before starting the engine. She put the car in drive, got back on the main road, and didn’t take her foot off the gas until she reached her hotel.

  She rushed inside the hotel, reached her room, and bolted the door. As she paced back and forth, she glanced at the time. It was very late in Miami but Noah would want her to call, especially if he knew how dangerous the situation had become.

  “What can he do to help me from Miami, though?” she asked herself.

  She powered up her laptop and immediately c
hecked for the next available flight home. “The sooner the better,” she muttered as she waited for the flight times to load.

  She booked the first available flight back to Miami: eight hours away. She completed the online check-in to ensure her seat was reserved and began rushing around the room, haphazardly throwing her belongings into her suitcase. She carefully tucked the new evidence, including the picture, underneath the lining inside her purse. If it were manually searched, only a small hole would show in the lining. Her purse contained enough other papers and personal items to camouflage the new ones.

  Now, all she had to do was get to the airport without being seen by Richard. Then she’d be home free, back in Noah’s arms and completely protected. That’s the only place she ever really wanted to be again.

  As she entered the elevator, she hit the button for the lobby repeatedly. The doors seemed to close even more slowly, purposely taunting her. She quickened her pace once she reached the lobby. She’d already opted for the quick check out, so she was able to go straight to her rental car and not look back.

  As she turned the corner from the lobby toward the door to the parking garage, she smacked into Richard’s chest and bounced off of him. The shock both of their faces wore was obvious, but Brianna knew hers also held a trace of guilt. Guilt that she knew the truth about him. Guilt that she’d spied on him. Guilt that she had a picture of him meeting with the radical leader of the rebel forces in her purse. Guilt that she would share all this information with Noah, and Noah would help her take Richard down.

  The irony that he would soon be judged himself hit her.

  “Brianna, what are you doing here in Turkey?” Richard asked. His eyes lit with understanding while he waited for her to concoct a lie.

  She chose to tell the partial truth instead. “I was sent here by my paper to follow a story lead. It didn’t pan out though. Made the trip for nothing after all.”

  “That’s too bad. I’ll bet you thought you were so close to landing the story of a lifetime, too.”

  “Not really. Everyone has a different definition of what story of a lifetime is. My definition would be my life with Noah,” she replied as she lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m running late so I’d better get going. By the way, why are you here?”

  “I had a meeting with some local officials on behalf of my boss. Trying to improve relations.”

  “That sounds very interesting,” Brianna smiled. And that’s not the responsibility of the DOD, Richard. “Have a safe trip back home. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Yes, indeed. Have a good flight,” he smirked.

  12

  Chapter Twelve

  “How long will she be here?” Rebel asked.

  “They’re supposed to leave immediately after the concert,” Noah replied.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Bull replied.

  The hidden microphones and almost invisible earpieces kept the men in constant contact while they were in close proximity. Staying on top of the pop-star diva's every movement had proven to be more of a challenge for the team than they thought. A change of plans at the last minute was normally a last resort for a security team, but it was the way Kristen Garrett operated from minute to minute.

  “No matter when it is, it’s not soon enough,” Noah muttered under his breath.

  “I heard that, man,” Rebel agreed. “She’s driving me crazy.”

  “After we get national recognition for this job, I say we hire more men to babysit. We can manage the men,” Bull suggested.

  “Hell yeah,” Noah replied and kept his voice low. “I completely agree.”

  “Miss Garrett, it’s time to leave for your show,” Noah prompted her.

  “Okay,” she giggled. “I’m ready to go. It’s a sold out show, you know. Even if I’m late, they’ll wait for me. It’s not like they can start without me.”

  “No, they’re not likely to start without you,” Noah agreed. “But the later we wait, the more congested Miami traffic will be. Fans can get irate if they have to wait too long.”

  “You’re probably right,” she answered with a dismissive sigh.

  “Miss Garrett is coming out. Is everything clear?” Noah asked.

  “All clear,” Rebel and Bull each replied back.

  “We’re clear to go,” Noah smiled as he opened the door for her.

  Once she was outside the safety of her hotel room, the hulking men surrounded her tiny frame and almost completely shielded her from the nosy onlookers. Her heels clicked and her gum popped as they walked through the hotel and out to her waiting limousine.

  Bull and Rebel followed behind in a separate vehicle, occasionally chatting in Noah’s ear while he wasn’t able to reply. The distraction at least made the ride more entertaining than listening to Kristen’s phone calls. When Noah delivered her on time to the backstage door, her tour manager and the arena security team met them to take over.

  “You’ll be well compensated for the extra time and attention our visit required of you. I’m impressed with your work, and I’m not impressed often. You’ll be hearing from others in this industry very soon.” The manager smiled as he shook hands with Noah.

  “Thank you. I appreciate the referrals. Give me a call if you ever need our assistance again in the future,” Noah replied.

  He climbed into the truck with Bull and Rebel and then heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over. I don’t think I could take one more minute of Miss Pop Star’s gum popping.”

  “No shit, man. I heard that popping in my earpiece and thought I’d go mad. I don’t know how you stood it when you were sitting right beside her,” Bull replied.

  “Well, I did have you two chattering in my ear,” Noah laughed. “Take me home. I’m ready to relax and have a beer. Brianna left me a message yesterday but I haven’t even been able to listen to it yet. I couldn’t get away from Miss Garrett long enough to take a personal call.”

  “Guess Bri made it to Turkey all right,” Rebel chimed in.

  “Yeah, seems so. That’s probably what the message says anyway. I’m starving, I’m tired, and I never want to hear pop music again as long as I live,” Noah laughed. “That management idea is the best idea I’ve ever heard, Bull.”

  “Let’s make it happen,” he exclaimed.

  “Her manager said he’ll refer us to others in the industry. If we start getting a lot of high-profile people and contracts, this business will grow even faster. Exciting times.”

  Noah’s thoughts immediately drifted to Brianna. In his mental picture of the future, he’d always been able to clearly see her beside him. They’d build a life together, have a family, and grow old side by side. Whatever troubles one faced, the other would be there to help.

  The uncertainty of their relationship made that picture less clear to him now. His love for her hadn’t changed or diminished, but something between them was off. He couldn’t wait to listen to the voicemail, even if it was just her confirming she’d made it safely. He hoped that just by hearing her voice, and the tone of it, would give him some clue of where her mind was.

  After Bull and Rebel dropped him off, he showered and then checked the time on his watch as he finished toweling off. Turkey was eight hours ahead of Miami, making it just after seven in the morning there. Brianna’s meeting was at nine, so Noah knew he wouldn’t be able to reach her until later in the day.

  She’d spend her early morning making the necessary preparations to meet with the stranger. Then she’d take her time asking questions, extracting every bit of information she could obtain, before settling down with all of her notes and penning the next Pulitzer Prize winning article. With a full day ahead of her, and a long day behind him, Noah climbed into bed and turned on the TV, fully intent on watching the news then he would listen to Brianna’s voice before he went to sleep.

  When he opened his eyes, the sun streamed through his bedroom windows, the TV was still on, and he hadn’t moved a muscle all night. He sat up in b
ed, cursed under his breath, and swung his feet over the side. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his cell phone but it wasn’t in its usual place.

  Noah quickly stood, walked briskly to the bathroom, and found it on the vanity counter where he’d left it the night before. There were six missed calls from Brianna, all spaced several minutes apart. The times indicated that she was urgently trying to reach him as he slept.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he yelled repeatedly as he scrolled through the times of her calls. “Please be okay,” he prayed aloud as he tried calling her.

  With each call, it went straight to voicemail. No ringing. No waiting for her to pick up. Just her voice saying to leave a message and she’d call back as soon as she was able. He stomped through the house in frustration, threw on his clothes, and tried her cell again with no luck.

  As he brought it back up to hit redial again, his phone rang in his hand. A strange, foreign number flashed on the caller identification and he immediately felt hope that Brianna was calling from a local phone. Maybe something had happened to her cell phone. Perhaps the battery had died, she’d lost it, or it had been destroyed. No matter, she was calling to tell him she was okay.

  “Brianna?” he asked, panic laced his voice, as he answered.

  “Is this Mr. Noah Steele?” the polite voice asked.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “This is U.S. Ambassador Elliott’s office in Istanbul, Turkey. I’m afraid I have some very bad news. My apologies for delivering such news over the phone, but I need to inform you that Miss Brianna Tate’s plane experienced some sort of malfunction during takeoff tonight. I’m very sorry, Mr. Steele, but there were no survivors,” she explained.

  “What?” Noah asked, confused. “What are you saying? I don’t understand. Her flight wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow.”