“It’s a good night for revelation,” Turik said simply, his head turned, his eyes on the city to the north. “Thank you for what you did for my country, Agent Hart. I know you did it more for Tess, but I do thank you.”
“How could you cover for him?” Lee spat. “Surely you knew what he was doing.”
“Many lies and half-truths are spoken in war...” Turik swallowed hard, “but yes. I knew.”
Lee pushed to his feet, not willing to sit and chat with Nizari’s heartless accomplice. “How could you? Innocent women and girls, little boys...” He couldn’t come up with a word that fit Nizari’s unfathomable depravity.
“I’ve heard worse lies about you Americans,” Turik said softly. “Only when I corroborated the gossip with facts could I finally act.”
It took all Lee’s willpower not to strike Turik. “When the hell was that? Yesterday?”
“I’ve been watching Hasim for years.” Turik glanced upward. “He was a powerful man with dangerous friends.”
“Including your almighty Imam?”
Turik closed his eyes, his face devoid of emotion. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I also believe my closest mentor, my Imam, has some explaining to do, but understand this. You must leave my country. You must let us tend to our problems in our way. As for the artifacts, not until I entered Nizari’s home last night did I realize he hadn’t destroyed what he’d taken.”
“Yet you knew he dabbled in the black market.”
“I knew Nizari was a man of shadows, not balls or fair games of cricket. The loss of our history is tragedy enough, but for a man to hoard the very items he declared he’d sold in the name of Allah...” A wistful tone breached Turik’s voice. “Ba mah nesheen mah shawe, ba deg nesheni siah shawe.”
The sorrowful intonation hung between them. Turik could’ve just told him to go to hell, and Lee wouldn’t have known the difference, but he flat didn’t care.
The somber assassin nodded to the silvery crescent hung in the east like a Christmas ornament in a dark velvet sky. “It’s an old Afghan proverb, Agent Hart. If you sit in the light of the moon, you’ll become like the moon. But if you sit beside a cooking pot, you’ll become as black as the pot.”
Lee slanted a suspicious eye at the mumbo jumbo, but he caught the drift.
Turik drew in a long, deep lungful before his shoulders drooped with the gradual exhalation. “America. Afghanistan,” he said quietly, “they are both the same—both overflowing with good people caught up in angry men’s politics and wars. To be honest with you, I had no reason to visit Nizari’s home until I caught word late yesterday of a trap set to recover the reliquary. Yes, I know Tess has it again. I’m not surprised that she stole it out of my safety deposit box. She has an uncanny instinct for putting herself in the wrong places at the worst possible times.”
If you only knew, Lee thought. Walking on high palace walls, spitting in the face of the wind, that woman kept herself front and center of a showdown at all times. He swallowed hard. He couldn’t fight it. The woman had done what Nizari had failed at. She’d driven him stark raving crazy.
“My country must seem a broken shambles to you, Agent Hart, and in many ways, it is,” Turik said with a sigh, still talking at Kabul. “I can’t condone the selling of our culture to wage war and terror, but neither can I condone the increase in poppy fields to satisfy the world’s boundless appetite for heroin. It seems we will never be a united people again, that we will all die fighting, that we will end with nothing.” He murmured as he shook his head. “Jangal ked at greft, khusk o tar mesoza. If the forest catches fire, both the dry and the wet will burn.”
That one Lee understood. We will all burn together. But he had no words of encouragement. He wouldn’t lie to the guy. Afghanistan did suck. Who the hell wanted to live in a perpetual warzone? He didn’t. Hell, these fierce tribes had been fighting each other before any westerners showed up in their lands. Lee was tired of the wise old Afghan sayings, too.
“But it is my home,” Turik continued calmly, “and I love it. I will fight for it the same as you will fight for your America and the woman you love.”
Lee kept his mouth shut. Exactly how much did Turik know about him and Tess?
“She’s a dreamer, Agent Hart. Know that. She’s not like you and me. She sees stars in the sky, but when I look up, I only see the thief in the night, the bullet and the bomb, the rain that falls down like fire on my country. Where she sees romance and heat between the lovers on the dance floor, I see the assassin’s blade and the cold, hard truth of the world we live in. But she...” He drew in a deep breath through his nose, “that damned woman sees the future that could be for my country.”
“She sees what should be,” Lee corrected, his tongue finally loosened. “No country deserves the violent history yours has had. You guys need to pull your heads out of your asses and strive for the common good. What the shit are you going to leave your sons and daughters if you don’t?”
“I say, old chap, now you’ve got it.” There was that British clip again, another clever ploy this Afghan warrior used and discarded as needed. Turik slapped his knee and lifted to his feet. “Which is why I fell in love with her a long time ago. I dare say, she loves my country more than some of us do. England was our time in Camelot, where everything and anything seemed possible between Tess and I. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
Lee didn’t like the deep timbre in Turik’s tone at the mention of Tess, nor the notion of Guinevere and Sir Lancelot that Turik had just summoned to mind. It fit, though, didn’t it? Hadn’t Guinevere cheated on King Arthur with Sir Lancelot? Wasn’t that how women’s betrayal went? They showed you their charm and grace, hooked you, and left you dangling. Your heart pierced and bleeding. Your dreams in a puddle at your feet.
“She loves you dearly, you know,” Turik said to the night, his chin lifted toward those very same stars overhead and all of Lee’s shattered dreams.
“Then why the hell were you kissing her?”
Turik met Lee’s dark and loathsome gaze. “Because I do love her. I always will, but my dilemma is the same as every other man’s in Lady Tess’s universe. She doesn’t love me,” he said sadly, “not the way she loves you. I only kissed her cheek this morning, Agent Hart, not her sweet lips. I needed to tell her that I was not her Alexander, but it was clear she held no tender regard for me. Where once my reflection glimmered in her beautiful blue eyes, now stands the hero she’s been searching for all of her life, her true Alexander.”
Lee grunted. Turik sounded as hopelessly romantic as Tess. “Why’d she run to you then?”
“She was afraid for her brother, and she knew I could help her. Clint Culver has been consorting with a dangerous man. Tess should be worried.”
Lee held his tongue. The stars were beginning to align. Tess would go off half-cocked like that, and Turik would certainly know Clint had located Iskandar. He had the same uncanny knack as Tess of getting into the right place at the wrong time. Damn, these two were kindred spirits, both fighting for the country they believed in, but both on opposites sides.
Turik offered a crooked smile. “Our fair lady loves you, Lee Hart. Don’t ask me why she chose an American soldier over a scholar like me, but she did, and for that, I am grateful, because I have Alessa in my life. Rest assured, I love my wife more than I ever loved Tess.”
His gaze drifted to Lee’s feet. “I know you have suffered at Nizari’s hand, but strive to put him in your past now that you’ve ended him. Tess is a rare woman who will take you places you never dreamed of going, and in the journey, she’ll charm every logical reason for you not to follow her out of your mind. She’ll flirt with you relentlessly, and she’ll tease until she drives you crazy, but she’ll love you just as deeply as she loves her causes. I’ll tell you what I told your darling Tess. She’s a dreamer. She tilts at windmills and thinks she has to spit in the eye of the devil to accomplish her goals. Are her goals noble and impossible? Absolutely. Is she a fool to love my country
so deeply that she’ll fight for it in her reckless way? Yes and no. Does she love you more than she ever loved me? You already know that answer.”
Lee studied the liar in his midst more intently. Tess and Turik had certainly acted intimate. Cozy. But Lee could detect no deceit in the man’s steady stare, and Turik’s words rang true. Lee swallowed hard. Maybe he had jumped to the wrong conclusion.
“If I have one secret to share with you tonight it is simply this. Tess and I were never lovers.” Turik didn’t so much as blink or flare a nostril. “It is unfortunate, but true,” he said softly, his open palm braced on Lee’s shoulder. “I could lie to make you think I knew her that way, that I was her first, that I was a better man than you because of it, but I do believe that distinction goes to you and you alone. Besides, there are enough liars in my country. We don’t need another.”
Lee grunted. “There are enough liars in the whole damned world.” But wait. Turik and Tess hadn’t… Oh hell. Was it possible that Tess was a virgin until that afternoon in the hotel? Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t he detected that tender secret? That crazy damned secretive woman. She’d done it again!
“Which is why we are here, my friend”—Turik stuck his chin at the crime scene below—“and not there.”
“I’m not leaving until I burn that shithole to the ground,” Lee growled, his hatred for Nizari as strong as ever.
“Excellent. May I assist?”
You could’ve knocked Lee over with a feather at that offer. A really little downy feather. From a fluffy baby chick. He blew out a gut full of suspicion and finally accepted his assassin friend as a brother at arms. Kind of.
Together, they buried the two guards in shallow graves between the rows of cells and the house. They moved the last of the ancient treasures to the trucks, then drove them a safe distance from the house. Another surprise. Turik drove a sporty Land Rover, exactly like the one Lee had seen parked next to his Hummer in the hotel parking garage. Lee about choked at the sight of it.
He strode back to find Turik inside with Nizari facedown at the end of a rug, the dark still plenty dark “I say, Agent Hart, would you help me get my friend here into the back of my vehicle?”
“Why not let him burn with the house?” That bastard’s dead body was the last thing Lee wanted to touch.
Turik rolled Nizari once, keeping him facedown. “Simple. The kill you made is clearly American. It’s too clean. Too nice. Nizari’s body must disappear so that evidence isn’t used against you, or indirectly, Tess.”
Plausible, but sketchy. Lee hesitated, not trusting that Turik had his back. He’d seen enough Taliban propaganda. The current regime had no trouble slandering American military or contractors. Why would Turik cover for an American murderer? Why not just abuse the corpse to make it look like torture and call it good?
Turik glanced up at him. “Trust me on this. I don’t do this to protect you. Only Tess. Would I allow Hasim’s shadow to stalk her for the rest of her life?”
Lee decided to trust. He dropped to one knee to assist. “That was you at my hotel?”
Turik shrugged. “I have been known to park at the Ambassador Hotel a time or two,” he said slyly. “You drive one of those dastardly Hummers, right?”
“You know damned well I do.” A chill skated up Lee’s spine. This guy had gotten closer than he’d suspected, but not once had Turik made an attempt on his life. That Lee knew of. Hmmm. It seemed they had a lot in common. Protecting Tess. Putting Nizari down. Torching his place, if that ten-gallon gas can in the back of that classy Land Rover was full.
“Would you care to know how Hasim came to be so evil?” Turik asked as he casually stuffed the rolled rug and the body within it deeper inside his rig, then tugged the can to the door and unscrewed the lid.
Lee shrugged, wiping his palms on his thighs. “Not sure if I care.”
“You most certainly do.” The clipped British accent was back. Turik leaned his hip to the tailgate and continued. “Hasim was not always evil. He was a decent man, a good husband, and an honest banker when he first moved from Syria. But he was not content with ordinary. He wanted power, and in wanting power, he fell to the same sin as Iblis, the sin of pride.” Turik talked with his hands. He should’ve been Italian.
“Who the hell’s Iblis?”
“You know. Iblis. Satan. The dark angel who refused to... Oh, never mind.” Turik hefted the heavy can to his feet with a grunt. “The point is that Hasim went to great lengths to establish a reputation of fear and terror. He changed his name from Nafari, the name of his father and grandfather before him, to Nizari, the name of a cold-blooded murderer of ancient times. He wanted all who heard his name to cringe, so he sacrificed his family honor. You have heard of the Nizari Ismailies, the notorious Hashshashins of eleventh-century Syria, haven’t you?”
“You mean the ruthless assassins of Hassan-I Sabbah?” Lee asked just as casually. Every sniper worth his salt knew the legend behind his profession. “The guys who threatened the Sunni Seljuk in ancient Persia? The legendary first assassins? Nah. Never heard of them.”
Amusement bracketed the corners of Turik’s mouth. “Well done, Agent Hart. You know your history.” Lifting the can, he extended his other arm, counterbalancing the weight as he headed to Nizari’s door. “The point is that Hasim became exactly what he wanted,” he said, his voice strained. “He became the worst kind of man, a creature who preyed on the innocent and weak. He couldn’t tolerate honorable men, which is why he sank to the depths of depravity that he did. Even then, I doubt he was satisfied with his work. Once he succumbed, his sin ruled him.”
“He always wore clean linen shirts,” Lee remembered out loud. “And sandalwood. Silk ties.” Shit. The things he might never be able to forget. Lee shook his head to pull his mind out of the past. “What about you? How evil are you?”
Turik glanced sideways at him as he sloshed the first gulp of gasoline around the post that had once held Tess. “Surely you don’t believe I’m anything like Nizari, Agent Hart. I’m more like you. An assassin for my country. A lover to my wife. A father to my son. And you? How evil are you?”
Stupid question. Lee never hesitated. “Evil, nothing. I’m a Marine.” And damned proud of it.
In ten minutes, the cells and the interior of Nizari’s brutal estate were doused with every last ounce of accelerant. The men stepped back from the gathering fumes. Turik unholstered his pistol and handed it grip-first to Lee. “It only seems sporting that you finish what you started. End the traitor’s lair and the myth.”
Lee hefted the pistol, a Sig Sauer like his own. He unholstered his own piece and handed it to Turik. “Let’s finish this together. For Tess.”
A genuine smile brightened Turik’s face. “Yes. Let’s do this.”
Enough said. It took a second to sight the propane tank inside one of the open cells. Lee fired. Turik fired at the same time. Lee liked to think it was the spark off his round on metal that lit the inferno, but who could say? One thunderous whoosh pushed a shock wave of heat and fumes from the torture chambers to the house. In seconds, all was fully engaged in flames and lost. Or gained, depending on where a guy stood.
“How sweet the sound...” whispered off Lee’s lips.
Turik slanted him a kind look, one brow lifted. He returned Lee’s weapon and clasped his shoulder again. “I know you’ve suffered much in my country, and for that I am truly sorry. Go home, my brother. Marry that spirited woman we both love. Tame her. Leave a righteous posterity. Forget the trials and the things you’ve seen here. Joyenda yabenda st.”
Lee furrowed his brows intentionally. This son-of-a-bitch had certainly waxed poetic tonight. “You know damned well I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Turik beamed, the light in his eyes genuinely tender. “The seeker is the finder, my friend,” he whispered. “Seek love. Find joy. Marry Tess. Just don’t return to my country. I will kill you the next time I see you.”
Lee succumbed to the friends
hip offered him in the guise of a threat. “You can’t kill a man if you’re invited to his wedding.”
Mischief sparked deep in Turik’s eyes. “Ah, then I shall dance with the bride again.”
“Only if you want to die.” The banter felt good and honest, but Lee had one more jab to offer. It finally made sense, and he was going to kick Alex’s butt the next time he saw him. “You’re the one,” he ground out, Turik’s hand still gripped firmly in his. He jerked the Taliban assassin in close until they were nose to nose. “You hired me and my boss to protect Tess, didn’t you?”
Damned if something didn’t glisten at the corners of Turik’s dark eyes. He really did love Tess. “Please,” he said quietly. “Let that be our little secret.”
Chapter Thirty
Wow. When Alex Stewart offered protection, he meant it. Tess found herself guarded by more bodyguards than she could handle. Both Jordan Hannigan and Seth McCray kept steady watch, one at each side of her bed during the first few moments her meds allowed a bleary view of the world. She’d hoped to find Lee at her side, but he hadn’t returned, so she embraced the power of the painkiller in the hypo.
Until she woke to the man himself. Alex Stewart was not a pleasant man to wake up to. He growled a lot. That grumbly noise was what awakened her from another mindless drift through dreamland. “Hmmm,” she mumbled. Not exactly “hi there,” but it got Alex’s attention.
He leaned forward and took hold of her fingers. Not tightly, like Lee would’ve done if he’d been there, but tight enough. She tried to rouse herself again, the room coming into whirling, fuzzy focus. “Wm-m-m-m, Lm-m-m.” Not the best vocalization for “Where’s Lee?” but close enough for government work. Surely Alex got the drift. He was, after all, ex-military.
The effort of those poorly spoken words took her under for what felt like several more hours, but was probably only minutes since Alex was still holding her fingers when she lifted above the buzz again.
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 34