Iskandar shook his head. “The crypt where she and her son lay is dark within our mountain. Roxana rests there still, as do the precious artifacts you and your friend have returned to us.”
Then she knew why Iskandar seemed so familiar. “You were there the day Jacque and I visited your village, weren’t you? I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”
His turquoise blue eyes twinkled. “Monsieur Favreau was my good friend. He will be missed. We have much need of good people like him and you in the world.”
“Oh, wow,” she declared, her silly heart doing back flips.
Clint winked at her. “You’ll never guess what the English version of your new friend’s name is.”
Her mind was spinning, her head was pounding, and he wanted her to guess? “Just tell me. What?”
Clint reverted to her annoying baby brother. “Come on, Tess. Guess. Just once. Think about it.”
“Will you just say it?” She spiked her evil big sister brow.
“Al... ex... an... der,” Clint enunciated. “Iskandar is Alexander. I know you know that. You’ve done it, Sis. You found your Alexander.”
She. Nearly. Squealed! She’d done it. If the DNA matched, she’d actually done it. She needed to tell Lee. She couldn’t wait to see the pride glowing in his sexy emerald green eyes.
“Clint, do me a favor and find Lee for me. Wake him up if you have to, but he needs to hear this. Alex Stewart too, if you can find him. This is too incredible. I want them to meet Iskandar. Oh, wow. Lee will be thrilled. And Alex... Oh, Iskandar. I can’t wait for you to meet Alex. You two have the same names.” Not like that mattered, but Tess was so excited, it seemed important.
Clint bowed a short, insincere bow of brotherly respect. “At your service, Sis.” He turned into the hall, leaving her with Iskandar.
“I’m so happy to meet you,” she said as she squeezed his hands tight. “So happy. You don’t know what this means.”
“It is my pleasure. Your brother has done a great service for my people. We are in his debt.”
Her heart soared. She was right. She just knew it! After all these years of worrying, wondering, and fighting the world, now she could throw it in their faces. Mina and Jamaal would live to see the day their country was restored to prosperity. Tess couldn’t wait to tell them!
Clint appeared back at the door, but Seth and Jordan accompanied him instead of Lee and Alex. “Sis, there’s something you need to—”
She cut him off and waved them into her room, her heart bursting with joy. “Wait until you guys hear this! Where’s Lee? Is he still sleeping? And where’s Alex? I want everyone to hear this.” Only then did she catch Seth’s stricken face. Jordan hadn’t cracked a smile yet, either.
“Lee saw you with Turik and his kid,” Seth muttered. “This morning. You went to Turik’s house. We all saw you. What were you thinking?”
Her heart thudded to a dead stop. “I only went to ask if he knew where Clint was. I had a dream. I had… Oh never mind. I had to find my brother.”
Seth looked at the floor. “He saw you kissing Turik. He said he’s done fighting a war he can’t win.”
Tess sank back into her pillow. She couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t kiss Mohammed. Not that way. Where is he?”
“At the airport,” Seth muttered. “I dropped him off an hour ago. He said he’s taking his sailboat to the Atlantic for a few months, maybe a year.”
She covered her face with her hands, ashamed and sad and sick. None of this tremendous good news meant anything without Lee.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Final call. Flight 3728 boarding for Dubai. Repeat...”
Lee kicked back in the molded plastic seat, his legs stretched long and straight in front of him, his boots worn and dusty. Cowboy boots, the most comfortable things he could find for the mangled feet Nizari had left him with. The bastard had won after all. Lee had lost Tess and his job all because of the damage inflicted years ago. And there he was, on the losing side of life, crawling off to hide for a few months on the Atlantic, not something he was proud to admit. His snap decision to leave rankled in his gut.
He pulled his long legs out of the aisle and leaned his elbows to his knees. Waiting on stand-by could take a while, especially with the military taking first available seating on all outbound flights. He wasn’t about to step in line in front of an active duty soldier or Marine. Mostly, he was tired of the shadow of Nizari hovering over him day in and day out. Just tired, damn it.
People came and people went. Businessmen of all nationalities hurried by, briefcases in hand, some in business suits, some in flowing robes, some in military uniforms. Families disembarked. He fidgeted. Not ready to go. Not wanting to stay. Stuck somewhere in between. Shit.
He forced his mind to his favorite getaway, his sailboat. Still unnamed, she was a seaworthy craft. With stainless-steel ports and plenty of teak, she sported decent navigational lights and the traditional headsails. He’d already stocked the galley with enough canned food and dry goods for a party of one. He’d even plotted his course to the Med before he’d accepted this final mission. Hell, he might even name her on this cruise.
But the memory of Tess and Turik together kept poking at him, twisting a knife in his gut. One minute, Lee was sailing on the Atlantic with the wind in his face, the next, he was thinking of beating Turik’s arrogant face to a bloody pulp.
Lee stared at his boots. The thing rankling deepest in his gut was that damned song. It linked him to Tess in a way Lee hadn’t seen coming. For the first time in years, he’d truly believed he’d been saved. She made him feel like a man again, as if his scars and ugliness were nothing to her, like they didn’t define him. He’d felt free to be himself with Tess. She’d made him feel alive.
The sun was setting low to the west, the sky filled with a steady orange glow, tinged with pink and offset by the cobalt blue of the upcoming night. Another jet rumbled outside the terminal windows. Lee didn’t catch the airline logo splashed across the tail because the truth kept slapping around inside his hard USMC head, telling him he’d missed something. Telling him he couldn’t leave yet.
“I’m not going back to her,” he muttered quietly to himself. She makes me crazy, and she lies, and I’m tired of the game and all of her secrets. Tess wants to chase her dreams? Let her.
He swallowed hard, his chest a sucking hole of the deepest heartache he might not survive this time. Why the hell had she run to Turik? What was so important that she couldn’t wait to heal first, or at least talk to him? Lee didn’t know if he cared. But knowing Tess, it had something to do with that tribe up high in the Kush... or her brother, Clint... or Mina and Jamaal... or... who cares?
Lee scrubbed a quick hand over his face, tired of the puzzle that was Tess. He’d told her he loved her, and that hurt the worst. She might have been out cold when he said it, but he did love her. She’d had him by the balls and heart the first minute he’d laid eyes on her, and yeah, he was the dumbest ass on the planet to fall for a crazy, pretty woman. And she was crazy—crazy in love with... Turik? Nah. She did get kind of dreamy-eyed when she talked about the guy, but love didn’t seem to fit. Enamored maybe. Not love.
Lee drummed his fingers on the armrest and stared at the sun, a deep orange ball of fire in the western sky, half visible as it kissed the day goodbye. But those two little kids? Mina and Jamaal were another bewildering facet to the puzzle. Now that was love. Lee had heard it in Mina’s voice. The little girl believed in her Tess and her fairytale stories. What the hell was a man supposed to make of that? Lee didn’t know. He couldn’t fix Tess. Hell, he couldn’t even fix himself.
“Is this seat taken?”
Lee looked up into the smirky face of one Clint Culver, not who he’d expected to see. Seth maybe. Not Tess’s brother. He motioned to the vacant seat across from him. “It’s all yours.”
Clint could’ve passed for Tess’s twin with the same dark hair and facial features. He had her nose, but not her eyes. No one had
Tess’s pretty eyes. Clint’s were lively, but gray. He folded his lanky frame onto the molded plastic as casual as ever. “You catch a flight out of here yet?”
Lee shook his head, staring at his hands. Truth be known, he hadn’t stepped up to the counter. “Still waiting.”
“India Air’s got one going to Sri Lanka if you’re desperate to leave,” Clint suggested. “It’ll take a couple days, and it’s headed in the wrong direction, but you’ll get to the States eventually.”
“No thanks. I’m good.” Lee spared Clint a quick glance. He had time. He could wait.
An Afghan gentleman in traditional dress had taken the seat to Clint’s left, a keffiyeh wrapped turban-style on his head, his unusually bright blue eyes dark and gentle. He nodded a wordless greeting at Lee.
“My sister’s something, isn’t she?” Clint offered, his gaze on the magnificent light show taking place in the western sky, one arm draped across the empty seat next to him. “Can you believe she thought I was a doper? I sure pulled one over on her this time. Sis always missed the forest for the trees.”
He chuckled, and Lee wished he’d shut the hell up.
“I got into a fight one time when I was a kid. The guy was our neighbor. It was my fault, but Tess didn’t know it. She came smoking out of the house. You’d have thought the place was on fire, but did she stop to think twice? Nosirree. She jumped into the fray like it was her fight. Bam, up she goes to the guy I’m scrapping with. He’d just kicked my ass, which I’d deserved, mind you, but there she was charging to the rescue. The thing is, he was big. You should’ve seen her. I mean really. There’s this little Meerkat of a woman standing up to an adult male who outweighed her three to one and...” Clint tipped his head back and burst out laughing, the dumbass, tears rolling down his face. “You shoulda... you shoulda...”
The serene gentleman next to Clint offered up a quiet chuckle, nothing like the uproar Clint was making, though. The corners of Lee’s mouth twitched. Clint had just described Tess to a T. She was a Meerkat of a woman, full of fight and determination and piss. Full of shit, too. His heart hurt for that independent woman. God, I love her.
Clint whined, twisting in the chair and pretty much making an ass of himself. People were looking. “Anyway...” he paused to draw in a deep breath and straightened, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “She didn’t get hit, for which I’m eternally glad, but man, she did give that behemoth a piece of her mind. I can still see her standing there, spitting nails and glaring up at this big, red-faced, sweaty guy with picnic hams for fists, and he’s glaring down at her, his bushy eyebrows twitching like he couldn’t decide to hit her or not. She’s yelling at him, ‘You would hit a girl. I know you would, so do it, you big bully.’ Ahhhhh...” Clint dragged a hand over his teary eyes again. “I love that sister of mine, but damn, she can be a raging pain in the ass.”
Lee kicked back in his seat. It felt good listening to this brotherly story, almost like Tess was there, laughing along with them.
“The thing is that whole mess was my fault.” Clint sobered. “I picked the fight, but my sister was the one who finished it. She got so mad when I explained what really happened, then it was my turn in the barrel. Man, did she go off on me, screeching like a banshee, swearing and slapping my head and hands.” He growled softly. “But then she started crying, because she’d made a fool of herself. Damn. Wind her up and she’s an incredible force in the universe. Just don’t get in her way.”
Lee nodded, still seeing that incredible force in the universe, the one with violet sparks in her deep blue eyes. Still aching for Tess. That was her alright, defying bullies the world over and risking her sweet ass when she did it. Ready to die for her dreams. Ready to risk it all. And there he was—running away.
He changed the subject. “You ever met Mohammed Turik?”
Clint nodded. “The assassin? Once or twice.”
Lee studied Clint, not sure if he could trust a Culver. These two Americans were a long ways from home and both up to their necks in intrigue and danger, Tess with her far-fetched dream for this godawful land, Clint with whatever was going on in the high Kush.
Clint took the pause in conversation for an opening. “I met him through Tess. She and Turik met in college in England.”
Lee nodded. He knew that much. “And...?”
“And that’s where their dreams collided,” the somber Afghan gentleman at Clint’s side offered. “Excuse me for interrupting, but I am Iskandar Kadir, a chieftain from the high mountains.” He reached for Lee’s hand, and Lee found it a firm grip. “I know Mohammed Turik. He is a good man, one of few who have braved the hard road to my village. One of the few who have come in peace.”
Lee let him talk. The man’s eyes were clear blue, the color of a spring sky without clouds, the color of a soul without guile. Clint brought his hands together, his fingers tip-to-tip, creating a temple of sorts through which he stared at the floor.
Iskandar beckoned Lee closer. “It is a hard road we all must walk, my friend, and there are so few lights along the way.”
Lee didn’t know where this line of chat was headed, but yeah. He understood the concept of lights along the way. That was what his self-therapy was about, restoring the fallen stars in the sky that Nizari had murdered.
“Always know this—there are lights, no matter how steep the road or how deep the darkness. No matter how high the mountains,” Iskandar said with surety, “and when we are blessed to find one of those lights, we must hold close to it, for that is why it was given to us. Is not Allah the most wise?”
“Yes,” Lee answered unequivocally. He’d long ago accepted God by all of His names and chosen peoples.
Iskandar curled his fingers into his palm as if showing Lee how to hold onto one of those lights. “Then keep that light close to you, Agent Lee Hart. Shelter it from the storms. Never be willing to settle for darkness again.” His weathered face split into a smile. “I must say I do like your name. Hart. It is a strong name, and you are a strong man with a strong heart. Do not lose sight, my son. There is sufficient light for those who choose to believe.”
He couldn’t have spoken more directly to Lee’s soul than with that last line, the wisdom of his mother come back to him. Sufficient, his mother’s favorite word. Wow. His heart rate kicked up, and for no reason at all, he found it hard to breathe. The airport terminal swirled around him, then settled back to normal. “Who are you?” He had to know.
Iskandar blinked as if he didn’t understand. “I am Iskandar Kadir of the most high Hindu Kush.”
“No really,” Lee persisted. “Have we ever met before?” Because this guy sure as hell seemed familiar in a weird way. Iskandar resembled one of the Three Wise Men with his checkered keffiyeh wrapped around his head like it was.
“No, my friend, we have not met before. Not in this sphere. Perhaps another.”
Lee peered closer. That wasn’t really an answer, was it?
“Who really knows? Tess and I believe he’s Alexander’s great, great, great...” Clint waved his fingers in a grandiose, circular motion over his head, “...grandson. We’re running DNA tests now. Don’t look so surprised. You might have met him in another lifetime, Lee. This is Afghanistan after all, a land of ancient legend and romance.”
A bemused smile shifted over Iskandar’s rugged face. For the first time, a glimmer of hope sparked to life in Lee’s heart. There was just one fly in the ointment, one bully still blocking all that celestial light. Lee leveled a serious eye at Clint. “You fly a chopper?”
Clint nodded, one brow raised. “Once or twice, why? You need one?”
“You fly up to the Kush, do you?”
“I deliver supplies and... things.”
“Guns? Ammo?”
Clint nodded. “Yes,” he said without hesitation.
Lee deliberated for one split second. “You got any spares?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After Clint met him outside Kabul and armed him with two p
istols, a sawed-off shotgun, and a short-stock AR, complete with enough ammo to take out an army, Lee felt more like himself again. He wasn’t tucking in his tail and running away, not this Marine. Hell, no. He had his head on straight again and a job to do.
“I hope to see you again,” Iskandar offered.
“Don’t worry. You will,” Lee promised as he hefted the AR strap to his shoulder. It seemed the right thing to say to the guy. Iskandar Kadir did have a mystical air about him, an ancient, wise way. Or something. Hell, maybe he was just one of those people who actually believed in this damned country. Like Alex. Like Tess. Like Lee was beginning to.
“Take care of your sister,” Lee growled at Clint. God knows she needs it.
The masculine version of Tess smirked back at him. “Sorry, Agent Hart. I’m not Ethan Hunt. That’s your job.”
Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. Lee honestly didn’t know at that moment, but for the first time since he’d seen Tess with Turik, he was willing to consider an alternative universe.
Clint and Iskandar went one way. Lee went the other. He couldn’t trust Turik any more than Tess, but Lee needed to be sure Nizari was dead. He forfeited the smooth road for the stealth of shadows, the only company he needed aside from the cold steel on his hip. This wasn’t a night for legal sanctions or rules of engagement. This was a night for a righteous kill, for vigilante justice. Lee might not live to talk about it. At the moment, he wasn’t sure if he cared. Either way, he needed to make sure Nizari was dead.
The problem with walking was it gave a man too much time to dwell on things—like Tess. Like what the hell did he expect to find in this backward country—a loyal woman? Wasn’t he the stupid ass? Still...
As much as her betrayal hurt, he recognized the attraction between them, and no, it wasn’t just the sex. As good as sex with her was, as in hot-damned good, the real attraction that had drawn him to her was the enthusiasm for life within that athletically toned, running body of hers. The vigor. The way her eyes lit up. Her eagerness to touch him. Her greediness for his damaged body.
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 32