Wow. Seth’s earlier word was the only one that fit the sight. Lee was finding it difficult to breathe. Alexander had loved, make that, worshipped a stallion he’d tamed as a young boy, Bucephalus, perhaps the most famous horse in all antiquity. The only one Lee knew that had a city built around its tomb when it died. Holy shit.
He swallowed hard. He’d seen pictures of this identical representation in a war-strategy class. Rays of a sun radiated from behind the mounted figure. Two Greek letters inscribed below the image cinched the deal. The alpha and the omega. The beginning and the end. The first and the last. This was Alexander’s seal, no two ways about it.
He took a seat beside Alex, the air knocked out of him at the otherworldly spirit of the rare antiquities in the room. He finally understood why Tess did what she did. Okay. Now he believed.
Chapter Nineteen
“You look busy,” Tess said to Hunter.
The reliquary was safely hidden again, along with her own personal reliquary, the cell phone with the three coins. Night had fallen. Despite the Taliban’s latest crime of hate against their countrymen, Tess was at peace watching Hunter clean his rifle.
He sat on the floor near the ammo cabinet, his weapon in pieces on a plastic mat spread in front of him. He’d already cleaned two identical weapons, and worked on another, ramming the rod into the long barrel with cleaning patches. The man was a methodical study in motion, slow and steady as if every action was well thought out and pre-planned. His hands were large and capable; his fingers elegantly long and seemingly out of place for a hardened soldier.
A black tattooed snake extended from beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt to wrap around his forearm, the wedge-shaped head flat on the back of his hand. Red inky eyes stared forward to his knuckle while the slithering beast’s red fork-tongue stretched to the end of his middle finger in a continual obscene gesture. Curiously, a tattooed knife pierced the creature’s head from side to side, the tip of the blade pointed between his index finger and his thumb. The opposite end, the handle grip, declared USMC.
“Yes, ma’am. Just business as usual.” He peered down the barrel before he re-inserted the rod. “Everyone else is busy. Thought I’d clean ’em all since I was doing mine.”
“They look alike. What kind are they?”
“Custom-made bolt action rifles, ma’am. You ever shoot a rifle?”
“No,” she admitted. “Just a pistol.”
“You conceal carry?”
“I don’t, but I should.”
“I can set you up with one of our extras if you’d like. The boss won’t mind. He’d as soon everyone was gun smart and packing.”
Tess glanced at Alex. He practiced what he preached. Two pistols occupied the double leather shoulder holster he wore, and she had no doubt they were loaded. The holster looked worn, the polish thin and scuffed. He’d unstrapped a nylon ankle-holster earlier, and stored it in the top shelf of the ammo cabinet. The knife sheath at his hip sported a heavy black-handled blade.
The sight of him armed like he was filled her with a definite sense of awe. Even on the phone, he exuded power, and there was no other word for it; he was a handsome man in an elegant yet feral way. Dark-haired with a hint of silver at his temples, he cut an intense, rugged profile, not so much heavily muscled as trim and athletically fit. He seemed the kind of guy who could and would challenge everyone, physically and mentally.
The stories he’d told earlier revealed a humorous side to him, but she’d seen the other Alex Stewart, too. He’d shifted from savvy businessman to sarcastic commander-in-chief in a snap, and his team jumped to obey when he did. They were probably used to following orders. She, on the other hand, didn’t jump to anyone’s orders, and she wasn’t going to start now. She definitely didn’t want to be on his bad side, but neither would she allow herself to be bullied.
Alex seemed the type who’d push until a person shoved back. So she had. It had made a difference. Their path toward an agreeable peace accord had been one power struggle after another, during which he’d resorted to using the brute force of Agent Lee Hart. She didn’t mind that so much now, but she also wished she’d been a little less confrontational. Maybe things would’ve gone smoother if she hadn’t been so unreasonable with Lee. Alex only wanted to help. He had an odd way of asking. Make that telling. No, make that kidnapping.
She shrugged the paradox that was Alex Stewart away. Something was up. She could feel it in the air. He stood behind Hunter’s chair, his satellite phone glued to his ear, discussing relocating the rig. It was hard to tell exactly what he was saying. Like the other men, Alex spoke in acronyms and military speak—racks, head, aft, and the forever present ma’am. It had made her feel old at first, but she’d decided it was just the way these ex-military types worked. Respect seemed automatic with them.
There were six bunks on the back wall. The upcoming possibility of sleeping in the same space with six men would be interesting. She wasn’t so much intimidated as wondering what Lee thought about the arrangement. He and Eric had taken a walk earlier that had ended at Lee’s Humvee. Lee looked up when he’d noticed her watching through the front window. That simple eye-to-eye contact had elicited a wiggle she couldn’t hold back. The man did things to her body without even trying.
“Appreciate the support.” Alex finished yet another phone call before he gathered his troops, calling Lee and Eric inside. “We’re relocating. Tonight.”
“Where to?” Lee asked.
“Lieutenant General Scott just offered up a parking stall inside Eggers. Stow everything. We move in ten.”
“Isn’t he the new NATO Commander?” Lee asked.
“And a damn good friend,” Alex replied. “Worked with him years ago.”
“So we’ll operate from Eggers from now on?” Eric asked. “No more hotels?”
“For now,” Alex answered. “The Taliban exploded a car bomb during the attack on the hotel. Like it or not, Eggers is our only safe port.”
Lee blew out a slow breath. “That means we have to travel back through town. They’ll be laying for us, Boss. Are we sure about this?”
Alex nodded toward Tess. “No choice. We’ve got what they want.”
“I need to contact Pieter Marchal,” she said. “He can facilitate getting the reliquary out of the country.”
“So can I,” Alex declared. “Why risk transferring it to a third party when we can do it?”
Her need to argue with this domineering male persisted, but Tess couldn’t honestly come up with a good reason not to trust him. She’d seen the reverence on his face when he’d handled the reliquary. Even now, he was asking, not telling.
His finger tapped the edge of the desk where he stood. Blue eyes studied violet. She studied back. A different light had graced those devilish blues since she’d proved she had the artifact. He’d allowed her to return the reliquary to the safe. He’d even trusted her with the security cod, in effect respecting her ownership of the artifact. So why did it feel like everything with him was a power struggle? Was he toying with her? Baiting her? Daring her?
“Okay,” she said evenly, not breaking eye contact. She’d trust him. Again. “But the reliquary is under my control. I make all decisions concerning its future.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, a bemused smile tugging the corners of his eyes. There was that word again, only from him it sounded more like a tease.
“Boss, Miss Culver could use a weapon,” Hunter interrupted the stare down, his rifle now reassembled and the cleaning kit stored. “You mind if I arm her?”
“Not at all,” Alex said, again with that same smile. “Glad to hear it. Give her one of the Rugers.” He glanced at her hand. “One of the smaller ones. Extra ammo, too.”
Just that fast, the confrontation was done. Lee winked across the room and gave her the thumbs up sign. Whatever just happened, he seemed to approve.
She balked when Hunter pulled the Ruger out of its case to give her a quick safety lesson, though. The pistol he me
ant to give her looked too small, and she’d wanted a real gun.
“Trust me,” he said as he smacked the six-round magazine home with the heel of his palm, his dark eyes serious. “This baby’s perfect for most ladies. You don’t need a big gun to get the job done, and look…” He tapped a nearly invisible pressure pad at the front of the trigger guard. “Laser. Just point and aim. You’ll get your message across.”
Tess pointed the weapon at the floor, away from the guys to get a feel for the pistol and to test the laser, her slender fingers alongside the trigger guard to ensure no accidental discharge. This little baby, as Hunter called it, would’ve been a better choice that night up there on the palace rooftop than the bulky revolver she’d lost. The Ruger was lighter. More compact. It fit her smaller hand, and the weight of it was perfect. She could’ve hidden it in her pocket while she’d run up all those stairs. “Thanks, Hunter. This will do. I like it.”
“Here, put these pinkie mags in your pocket.” He handed her two more loaded magazines and a nylon holster for the gun. “You’re right handed so strap this holster over your left shoulder, and wow, look at you. You’re damned near one of the guys.” He stood back as she did as she was told, the pistol now snug under her left arm. His gaze dropped to her boots and slowly travelled up her legs, flickered over her waist and breasts, but the look of approval on his face and the lazy, crooked smile on his lips took her breath. Nothing but stark male appreciation.
She snapped her fingers to get his attention. “My eyes are up here, Hunter,” she teased as she cocked her head to the side. “On my face, not in my bra.”
He shook his head as an embarrassed smile brightened his all too serious mouth. “Sorry ma’am. For a second there, you reminded me of someone else. I apologize for being a jerk. Lee would kick my ass if he saw me ogling you, and he should. Anything else you need?”
“I hope not.”
“You take care of yourself,” he said as he brusquely secured the ammo cabinet, all business and the smile gone. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
She stopped his hurried withdrawal with a palm to his rock solid forearm, hoping she hadn’t offended him by calling him out. Man, this guy had some muscles under that shirt. “Whoever she is, Hunter, she’s lucky to have you in her life.”
Hunter stopped what he was doing. He looked at her hand on his shirtsleeve, then met her gaze head-on. A shadow shifted within those heavily lashed pools of deep, dark coffee brown. “No ma’am, she isn’t. She got herself pregnant and married a rich guy before I joined the Corps. Now if you don’t mind, let’s roll.”
Ouch. Tess drew her hand away as if she’d been stung. Hunter angled his shoulder and walked away. Whoever that married woman was, she was an idiot.
The men didn’t need ten minutes to secure the inside of the trailer. Seth had already cleaned the kitchen, what he called the galley. The few loose items around the desks and monitors were easily secured and the drawers locked up tight. Travel commenced as soon as everyone vacated the trailer and climbed into their assigned vehicles. The sun had already set, the western sky barely aglow as darkness descended.
The convoy consisted of Jordan driving the eighteen-wheeler tractor and trailer with Hunter literally riding shotgun. She’d seen him store what looked like a sawed-off version of the weapon and another rifle beside his seat. Alex followed in his Humvee with Seth at his right, both equally armed with additional rifles. The exact names for the weapons they were now equipped with evaded her, but one she knew for sure—RPG. Seth had stowed the grenade launcher behind his seat.
Eric and Lee brought up the rear in Lee’s Hummer with Tess in the backseat. All of the men were armed with the compact rifles Hunter had just cleaned. Pistols graced their hips or thigh holsters. Tension was high as they’d pulled out of the narrow canyon they’d hidden in. They had miles to go through dangerous Taliban terrain. Predominantly a United States military base, NATO Camp Eggers was located near the U. S. Embassy in Kabul, not far from the Presidential Palace. Getting there over dirt roads wouldn’t be easy, but that wasn’t the problem. Who might be watching those roads was.
The vehicle’s headlights pierced the heavy darkness as Lee continually scanned all directions. He turned from the front seat, his hand cupping Tess’s kneecap. “If anything happens, you stay with me and Eric. Stick close. Understood?”
She nodded, her mouth dry.
“I mean it, Tess. I know how you are. You think you can fight the world. Not this time. You’ve got some of the best snipers covering you right now. There isn’t a one of us not ready to die for you. Don’t make this hard.”
That thought had never crossed her mind. Die for me? These guys she barely knew? She glanced at Eric’s dark eyes in the rearview mirror. He winked as if he’d just read her mind and agreed with Lee. Tess gulped. That extraordinary sense of submission flooded her psyche once again. She was there to help these guys save her life, not hinder them. She could do this.
Lee tapped his fingers to her knee. “Okay?”
“Yes,” she answered, trembling at the very real danger zone they were entering. Her quivering stomach pitched acid up the back of her throat.
“Don’t look so worried.” He rubbed his palm over her kneecap, the warmth from his manly touch calming her nerves. “We’re only twenty miles out of town. Once we pass the airport, it should take thirty minutes to get to Eggers. We’ll get you there safe and sound.”
She nodded, wanting to believe it could be that easy. Turning back toward the front, he removed his hand and instantly, she wanted it back. Lee was her rock. Without him, the night seemed so much darker and the short journey into town frightening.
He tapped his earpiece and cocked his head, no doubt listening to orders from Alex. At the same time, Eric turned the headlights off, plunging them into darkness again. The convoy moved slower, but just as steady. Tess’s heart leapt up high in her throat. What did Eric know that she didn’t?
The sights that had flown by on their hurried exit out of town turned to indistinguishable shadows. Modern concepts like streetlights didn’t exist in Afghanistan. Except for the few lively nightspots in downtown Kabul, the rest of the countryside closed up shop and went to bed after evening prayers. A single campfire could be seen for miles, halogen headlights farther.
“Are we on Kardoshman Road?” she asked.
“No. KB,” Lee answered, his tone tense. KB as in Kabul-Bagram Airport Road, swung northeast of the airport before it connected with Russian Road to go west or Awali May Road to go into the city. Everything looked the same outside her window—dark and dangerous.
Eric muttered something she couldn’t quite make out. When Lee leaned closer to him, she stifled more tremors. These two soldiers were discussing possible scenarios and strategies she wasn’t privy to. No doubt Alex was advising them, Hunter and Seth, too. They all knew more than she did. Tess brushed a hand through her hair, wishing they were already safe inside the Army base.
Eric slowed the vehicle to a crawl. “Just a herd of sheep, ma’am,” he said quietly. “Nothing to worry about.”
When a herd of wooly bodies and unexpected bleating inundated the Humvee, her heart pounded harder. Despite the cover of night, every vehicle in this convoy was a sitting duck. Even now, Mohammed might be lining them up in the sights of his rocket launcher. She rejected that thought on sight. The Taliban would never blow up the reliquary. They needed it as much as she did, if only to witness its demise. To brag how great they were, like they did when they destroyed the Buddhas at Bamiyan. That they ruled the world and no one could stop them.
The Humvee rolled slowly forward, spiking her adrenaline with the compulsion to run. “Why are so many sheep in the road?”
Lee squeezed her knee in reply. He’d rolled his window down. When his palm left her knee, she stiffened. Brakes lights flashed ahead. Alex had stopped, the rig and Eric, too. Her heart pounded. Something was wrong. Sheep didn’t stroll around at night like these were. They gathered in flock
s for safety from jackals and wild dogs. They settled and grazed.
Got it, Boss,” Lee said as he leaned his rifle out his window and aimed off to the right.
“What’s going on, Eric?” Tess asked. “Why are we stopping?”
“Just being careful,” he answered evenly, handing a pair of goggles to Lee. “I need you to get on the floor, ma’am. Cover your head with your hands and arms. Keep your face down. Stay away from the windows.”
She unfastened her seat belt and sank to her knees, straining to listen to Lee and Eric’s solemn chatter. Bleating sheep shielded the men’s conversation even more.
“Yeah, I see him,” Lee muttered, but she couldn’t see anything from the floor. What did he see?
“Two on this side.” That was Eric.
An icy chill shivered up her neck. They weren’t talking about sheep. The suspense was too much. Tess lifted her head to see what they were looking at. Both Lee and Eric’s faces were masked with night-vision goggles, that in itself a Star Wars sight she hadn’t expected. She flattened her face to the back passenger-side window, willing her retinas to pick up the slightest deviation in all those fuzzy shadows that might indicate danger.
“Alex is on him,” Eric whispered.
“Me, too,” Lee replied. “Got him.”
Got who? Tess pressed her nose to the glass trying to see. Who is out there?
“Hang on!” Eric bellowed, his foot to the pedal, nearly ramming their car into the rear of the Humvee ahead of him. “We’re moving.”
The fast acceleration shoved Tess backwards onto the seat. The Humvee shuddered. It bumped over something in the road while Eric wrestled with the steering wheel. She nearly hit the ceiling. Another thump, bump, and—oh hell. Eric was running over the sheep in his way.
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 23