by Cherry Adair
While she waited, her brain churned. Jesus God. Chemical warfare. In the hands of a sociopath like Fazur Raazaq it could spell mass destruction on an unimaginable level. He had to be stopped. Now.
Kane was right. If Raazaq had died, they'd have no idea where the hell the chemicals were, or who had them. And she'd been so close to taking the rat out, too.
"Bend down."
"Hmmm?" She glanced at him. "Oh. Right."
She crouched beside him, back turned, bracing on the arm of the couch as her mind raced. T-FLAC personnel had already placed tracking devices into each of Raazaq's vehicles. Their own vehicle was ready to go. All they needed was fresh water, and they could split within seconds…
Shit. She had no experience with chemical warfare. And While Kane had been around for a long time, this was not his field of expertise, either. They were here on a wing and a prayer.
Kane's hand felt cool against her bare skin as he lowered the zipper—far too slowly. She squirmed a little as her skin heated up. She shifted on her bare feet, feeling the nubby texture of the carpet under her bare toes, and Kane's warm breath on her nape.
He was mighty damn close for zipper duty. And her body was still humming and ready for more. She craned to look over her shoulder and came nose to nose with him. She met his gaze and decided not to notice the flash of something dangerous she saw there. "Is it stuck?"
He shook his head. "I got it."
Cool air fanned her back, and thankfully helped put out the first flickers of heat he'd generated. Zipper undone, she rose to her feet. "You don't have any experience with chemical agents, either, do you?" she demanded, holding the top of the dress up.
His jaw clenched. "No. Not many do."
AJ felt a sizzle of adrenaline mixed with a healthy dose of fear of the unknown. This is what she'd joined T-FLAC for. To be a part of something so big it could affect millions of lives. To be one of the few people in the world who stood between normalcy and insanity. She'd joined up because just by doing their jobs, she and Kane would make a difference. Lives could be saved, and threats averted.
Now she was finally going to get the chance to make that difference.
"We can track Raazaq, we can get the intel of his proposed target—or targets—but neither of us knows a damn thing about containment and disposal of a dangerous chemical. We have to call for backup," AJ told him grimly. "This isn't a two-person op anymore. We need Hazmat, and we need them now."
"I figured that out on my own," he said dryly. "Backup is on their way as we speak. The minute HQ knew the situation, they dispatched an experienced Hazmat team."
He gave her a measured look she couldn't hope to interpret.
"So we wait?"
"We wait."
"Waiting sucks. The Hazmat team is coming, but soon enough?" She started pacing the room again, paying no attention at all to the fact that her barely there dress was wide open at the back. Hell, there were way too many important things to think about. Keep calm. Focus. Mentally, she ran down the supplies in their vehicle. Weapons, ammunition… Damn it, the flight here from the U.S. would take twenty-plus hours.
The terrorists could be anywhere and have done anything by the time the T-FLAC team landed in Cairo.
"We can't wait almost twenty-four hours for the team to get here. We have to have them right this second."
Kane nodded his agreement. "We will. Cairo dispatched a six-man team. They'll be here within the hour. The Hazmat team is en route from Europe. Be here by morning."
"Better," she said, thinking out loud, pleased to have Kane to bounce her thoughts off of. "But not near good enough. Raazaq said he'd only be here for a couple of days in the middle of a business trip."
"We'll be right behind him." Kane said it shortly, firmly, and she turned to look at him as he continued. "Everyone can play catch-up. We're keeping tabs on the GPS."
"Let's call in again and get an update—" She grabbed the bodice of the dress tight as it slipped off her shoulders. She ignored the hardness of her nipples and the still-pumping heat of her blood as she turned to look at him, only to find he'd risen silently from his relaxed position, and now stood inches away. They were almost nose to nose. Again.
AJ stood her ground.
His eyes glittered. Challenging her? Daring her? Playing chicken?
Or something even more dangerous?
Their eyes met.
His gaze burned even as his pupils dilated. He didn't move so much as an eyelash. His control annoyed the hell out other.
"If you're trying to scare me off, it's not working."
"Angina, if I wanted to scare you off, I wouldn't have had you in the elevator."
"Or now?" she asked.
"Or now."
To hell with it. AJ reached out and grabbed him by the front of his black T-shirt and stepped into him. As she pulled him closer, she rose on her toes and slanted her mouth over his. Two could play this game.
His arms came around her like a steel vise. The hot cavern of his mouth welcomed her. There was no tentative tasting. The kiss was full-blown and carnal. Tongues mated, bodies rubbed together, radiating heat. His hand slid inside the open back of her dress, skimming down her spine to cup her behind and warming her from the outside in. His other hand had somehow become buried in her hair, cradling her head in his broad palm as he shifted her face to his satisfaction.
AJ grabbed his hair in her fist, and held him where she wanted him. Dizzy with longing, she fought for balance and knew she wouldn't find it. She slid her hand, still fisted on his shirt, out from between them, and brought it up to cup the back of his neck, drawing him down to her mouth as she rose impossibly higher on her tiptoes. More. More. More.
Her head spun.
She was intensely aware of his scent. Rich. Enigmatic. Erotic. She'd recognize him from his smell alone. In a dark room. With twenty other guys in there. Blindfolded.
Shivers rippled beneath her skin as his lightly calloused palms skimmed down to her bottom. Warm hands, strong and sure, learned the curve of hip and waist as he pulled her into the cradle of his thighs. One hand cupped her bare behind. The other drifted to her front and thumbed an already sensitive nipple. His erection nudged her mound through his jeans. She felt the internal melting of her body as she deepened the kiss, trying to regain the control she'd lost with the element of surprise.
She shivered lavishly as his tongue drew her deeper, tempting her. Come to the dark side, Luke.
The dark side had never looked more tempting.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
« ^ »
After twenty minutes of sweaty, mind-blowing sex on the floor, they separated to go to their rooms to shower. Kane had rug burns on his ass to prove what a gentleman he'd been by letting AJ stay on top.
For the first time in years, he actually felt alive.
Stupid, but alive. Making love to a fellow operative was going to cause nothing but trouble. It'd never happened before now and he knew damn well that if the woman assigned to this op had been anyone but AJ Cooper, it wouldn't have happened this time, either. But AJ was… different. She reached him even when he didn't want her to. She infuriated him, aggravated him, and in general annoyed him. She also made him laugh. She made him think and, damn it, she made him want her every time she walked into a room. Jesus Christ. He rubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was he thinking, making love to Cooper?
The woman had a massive chip on her shoulder, and something to prove. She was as focused and determined as he was. Didn't matter that the attraction was mutual. And powerful.
Why now, Lord? Why the hell now?
His brothers would laugh their collective asses off… If he ever told them. Which he most certainly would not.
But damn it, the woman used weapons on him that he had no defenses against. Humor. Guts. Integrity. Honesty. Hell. Kane buried his face in his hands with a groan.
He was in trouble here. Deep fucking trouble.
A feeling thumped in his chest. It took h
im a moment to realize it was a chuckle.
Oh, damn.
Just as AJ strolled back into the room there was a hard thump-thump-thump on the door. The Cairo team.
AJ checked the Judas hole, then flung open the door, and practically hauled them into the room bodily. Sex had revved her engines. She was up and raring to go. Wired for sound. Eager, on edge, and climbing the walls, desperate for activity.
"Anything?" Apollo Hawkins demanded, briefly nodding acknowledgment to AJ and striding across the room to shake Kane's hand. They'd worked together several times and Kane had requested him on the team. Kane's estimation of the man went up several notches when Hawk didn't give AJ more than a cursory glance after they'd been introduced. And if AJ noticed that the guy was tall, dark, and fairly decent to look at, she didn't seem to give a rip, either.
She introduced herself, unnecessarily, to the others. Killian, McBride, Tariq, Christof, and Wondwesen.
"You guys eaten, or do you want to order something before we get started?" AJ asked as the men arranged themselves in the suddenly incredibly small room.
Kane bit back a satisfied smile. A regular United Nations of operatives, the six T-FLAC operatives were draped about the gold and white suite like a roomful of hungry black panthers, champing at the bit to get into the action just as much as he and AJ were. They were all experienced, seasoned operatives.
The men settled down to outline options and share what they knew. AJ efficiently called in a room-service order, then seated herself cross-legged on the floor beside the huge, square coffee table. She waited her turn, then started outlining a plan. Kane realized with not a little surprise that AJ Cooper knew her stuff. She might be a kitten as yet, but she was a tiger kitten.
He leaned back in his corner of the couch and watched and listened as AJ laid out the possibilities of Raazaq's route. She knew Egypt as well as, if not better than he did. And he'd been here several times in the last few years. Her study of the maps on the flight over was standing her in good stead. She knew back roads, unpaved roads, and variables for thousands of miles. All in her head. Amazing.
"I'm damn impressed," Roman Killian said quietly as AJ went to her room to find a map that included the Sudan. Just in case they had to head that way. "How's she doing?"
"Good," Kane told him honestly, picking up his soda and drinking. "I've been pleasantly impressed, too." She was good except for that minor glitch. "She takes this dead seriously. Doesn't whine, thank God. Yeah, I'm pleased with her so far."
"Her recall and grasp of detail are sure as hell assets, rookie or not. That can't be taught in any Academy classroom," Killian added.
"And unlike yourself, Wright, Coop seems to be a real people person," Hawk inserted with an evil smile. "She almost makes you look friendly."
"Bugger you," Kane told him mildly.
The other men hooted with amusement.
Watching her interactions with the other team members had solidified Hawk's point. AJ's beauty was attractive, but not as important a tool as her ability to put strangers at ease. The woman knew how to read and react to people. Effortlessly, she responded to comments and questions, earning respect without demanding it.
There was a hell of a lot of testosterone in the room right now. And he wasn't sure he liked the way Ari Tariq watched AJ's butt as she left the room. The guy's sleepy, hooded eyes were deceptive. The Turk had a mind like a steel trap, and reflexes like a cobra. Kane scowled as he turned toward Killian.
"I've never worked with a female operative before," Tes Wondwesen said morosely. His large bald head glinted in the light as he watched the bedroom door. The enormous Ethiopian had the look of a basset hound. Droopy eyes and his lack of eyebrows made him appear deceptively lazy. French roast coffee-colored skin made it hard to read his features. His strength was his tactical ability. But he was also known as quite the ladies' man. And even a sleepy guy could have the hunger of a predator in his gaze.
"No different than working with a male operative," McBride said tongue in cheek, light eyes laughing. There weren't that many female T-FLAC operatives, and most of the field agents didn't look anything like Cooper. Savage came close. But tangling with Savage would be like tangling with a black widow spider.
"I enjoy working with the female of the species," Tariq said lazily, crossing one booted foot over his knee and leaning back against the silk pillows like a pasha. "They bring a different perspective to an op."
"Keep your mind on the mission statement," Kane told him flatly. "Cooper's the most important part of this op. Don't any of you even consider muddying the waters."
"Here it is," AJ said, returning to the table and unfolding the map. She glanced around. "What'd I miss?"
"Nothing," Kane told her shortly. He looked at Conrad Christof. "Sit, for God's sake."
Christof towered over the rest of them. He'd jumped to his feet when AJ stood, now he waited to sit down until she did. Pretty damn good manners for a blond giant with no neck and too many, too white teeth. Kane decided to keep a weather eye on the Austrian as well.
AJ seemed oblivious—which made Kane feel better. Until he glanced over to see Hawk grinning at him. Kane flipped him off. Hawk chuckled.
AJ was one of the guys. One of the guys with breasts, a shapely butt, and sparkling green eyes. There was not one scrap of artifice in her. She was animated, serious, knowledgeable, and in charge. While they chowed down on a mountain of sandwiches and drank several gallons of thick, sweetened coffee, six pairs of male eyes tracked her every move as she paced, gestured, made notes on a pad she carried, and talked with authority and conviction.
She was doing a damn fine job. And Kane respected the other guys for listening and treating her opinions with respect.
Of course, Kane was forced to admit, it helped that her ideas were damn good ones.
They were all aware that this was to be a team effort. Getting Raazaq now was imperative. AJ had a map of the Western Desert imprinted on her photographic brain. That and her sniper ability, coupled with Raazaq's attraction to her, made her indispensable.
And every man in the room knew it. They would all protect her, and get her to her objective, at the cost of their own lives if necessary.
"… split up into four teams," AJ said, coming back to the table and dropping down into a cross-legged position that got Kane's attention in a hurry. He mentally ratcheted back. Instead of grabbing her, tossing her over his shoulder, and making a forty-yard dash to the bedroom, he drank deeply of his Coke and slitted his eyes until she was no more than an animated blur.
Better.
Not great.
Just better.
The satellite communicator rang. She was up and had the receiver in her hand seconds ahead of the others. "Yes?"
Her eyes narrowed. "When? How many vehicles? Got it." She tossed the clunky black receiver back on its cradle. Her pale eyes shone like stars, her cheeks pinked with excitement.
"Sorry, guys, no rest for the wicked. Raazaq just moved out. Headed south and booking. Let's get the lead out. We've got to get this sucker before he cuts loose."
AJ drove, while Kane kept in communication with the two vehicles behind them, the Sat Comm, NOAA, and the blip on the screen of his handheld GPA indicating Raazaq's southerly direction. They were far away from the lights of any towns or villages, and scudding clouds obscured the moon. It was eerily dark.
Wind buffeted the Humvee, and sand from the dunes on either side of the paved road, illuminated by the twin beams of the headlights, blew in increasingly thick clouds across their path. No matter how bright the lights, though, they barely penetrated the billows of yellow sand whipping in a mad frenzy across the empty road.
AJ kept a map of the area in her head as she drove. The signposts were few and far between. Fortunately they were in English as well as Arabic, but it looked as though the terrorist was heading into uncharted territory. The farther south he led them, the worse visibility got. The north-south route had been a trail of agony for tens of
thousands of slaves who'd moved along its route thousands of years before. It had been called the last, and worst, portion of the Darb-al-Abrain, or the forty-day road. The farther they went, the farther behind they left civilization.
They'd speculated where Raazaq might be heading, and what the shipment could contain. But since they didn't know the answer to either question, speculation was, at this point, moot. All they knew was, whatever it was, in Raazaq's hands it would be bad. Very bad.
Dirty bomb? Nerve agents? Smallpox? A nuclear bomb?
Jesus God, it could be anything.
Behind them, five miles apart, two more Humvees rolled through the darkness, headlights glinting on and off as they hid behind dunes and turns in the road or were obscured by wind-driven sand. In one vehicle, Christofand Wondwesen; in the other, Hawk and Tariq. The other two men had remained at the hotel to await the arrival of the specialists from Europe, whose plane had been delayed by NOAA's warnings of the approach of Khamsin. Sandstorm season.
"Khamsin" meant "fifty" in Arabic, the number of days the season lasted. Timewise, they were right in the middle of it. And Raazaq was heading directly toward the heart of the storm. AJ was sure that had been a deliberate move. Where the hell was the man going? And why?
The farther south he went, the less populated the area. It didn't make sense. Raazaq always went for the big bang. The most people terrorized. If it was some sort of bomb, he was heading in the wrong direction. If it was some sort of viral agent, ditto.
"Maybe he's going to blow up a dam? Poison the water supply?" Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The vehicle shook and shuddered, and her muscles ached with the effort of maintaining control as the car weaved and swayed in the high winds.
"We'll get to him before he does whatever he plans to do."
"From your lips." Eyes dry with the strain of trying to pierce the swirling sand, AJ stayed in the middle of the narrow paved road, and gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled fists, feeling the jar and pull all the way up to her shoulders. "This is getting worse. I'm going to p—"