What are the professors up to now?
Reading never contacted him unless it related to his former teacher, and James Acton, along with his new wife Laura Palmer, had a knack for getting themselves into trouble. Quite often they bailed themselves out, but too often needed an assist.
They were just lucky they had good friends in better places, otherwise they’d have been dead years ago.
But they gave as good as they got, and on more than one occasion had returned the favor, using their tremendous wealth to help others, including his former comrades on Bravo Team when they had been disavowed.
He brought up the message from Reading through his secure phone, his eyebrows shooting up as he reread it several times.
What is it with these Saudis? Do they believe their own press?
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could personally do from his current location to help Acton. He was on a mission, and no matter how pleasurable and guilt-ridden it was, he couldn’t abort.
But luckily, he had friends too.
22 |
Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia Caliphate of Córdoba 989 AD
Rafiq stepped through the door of his family’s home to the sounds of Sheik Al-Musawi shouting at the top of his lungs, the servants hidden in doorways, trembling with fear as his mother held his only surviving sister tight against her as tears streaked both their faces.
It was worse than he had thought.
As the eldest son, he had a right to be at his father’s side, and decided it was best to exercise that right, as he was the only one who knew the entire truth.
“I will destroy your family! You’ll never do business in the Caliphate again!”
His father was on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, begging the powerful man, any shred of dignity he might have had, gone. “Please, sir, be reasonable. I have done nothing wrong! I have a family!”
“You raised a selfish little whore who has dishonored herself and her family, wasted my time, and humiliated me by showing everyone that death was preferable to marriage to me. I may never recover from this!”
Tears streamed from his father’s eyes and a wave of shame washed over Rafiq at the pathetic display.
And yet he didn’t blame him. He would probably do the same if the roles were reversed. Sheik Al-Musawi had the power to ruin them, and they were powerless to stop him.
His chest tightened with a thought, a last-ditch effort that could backfire horribly. “She didn’t kill herself.”
The argument immediately halted, Al-Musawi and his father, still on his knees, both turning toward him.
“What did you say?”
It was his mother, appearing in the doorway behind him, that broke the silence.
“She’s not dead. At least I don’t think she’s dead.”
His mother rushed toward him, grabbing his arm, her eyes filled with tears and hope. “Wh-what do you mean? She’s alive? My Fatima is alive?”
He was committed now, and he chastised himself vigorously for blurting out what might not even be true. And even if it were, was faking her death to escape the arranged marriage any better than committing suicide? Was it any less dishonorable?
If anything, it was more. In fact, it most certainly was. She had not only left her family to think she was dead through suicide, a sin if there ever was one, but she was giving herself to a man who wasn’t even a Muslim, without her father’s blessing.
It was shameful.
It was dishonorable.
And she should die because of it.
Yet none of those truths could save his family.
And then another, perhaps equally foolish thing gushed from his mouth. “She was kidnapped.”
“What?” It was the sheik who reacted first, his face red with rage. “By whom?”
“The Vikings. The one who you’ve been doing business with, Prince Magnus. I witnessed him arguing with her, then he tied her to something and pushed her over the cliff. They had ropes already in position, and she slid down to one of their boats. I saw the boat with my own eyes, sailing away from the shore, heading out to sea.”
His father struggled to his feet, his sorrow and fear replaced with anger. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of it? Earlier you said she had jumped.”
Rafiq turned to his father, scrambling to keep the lies straight. “I was mistaken. In my grief, I became confused, but after talking to Magnus just a short while ago, I realized his explanation for the ship being where it was made no sense, and must be a lie.”
“Explain yourself,” demanded Al-Musawi.
“Because the cliff is to the south of the port, and Magnus claimed that the ship was heading home, to the north, because they wanted to return a sick man to his family before he died.”
This calmed Al-Musawi significantly. “And what other evidence do you have?”
“Two witnesses who claimed they heard the sound of a rope pulling through a metal loop, like an anchor being dropped might sound like.”
His father nodded. “They heard this? At the cliff?”
“Yes. And I discovered a metal loop driven into the side of the cliff, right where she jumped, and it showed signs of having been recently used.” He paused for effect as he stared at each of them. “I think they had this all planned.”
“But why would she go to meet him?” It was his mother that asked the question impossible to answer.
“I’m, umm, not sure. But whatever the reason, she paid for her mistake with her freedom.”
“My poor girl!” wailed his father as he almost collapsed. Rafiq and Al-Musawi grabbed him by the arms and lowered him into a seat, his mother quickly taking over his care, snapping orders to servants.
“We must rescue her.”
Rafiq’s eyes widened at Al-Musawi’s comment.
“She is to be my wife. To do anything less would bring dishonor to my family, and that I cannot abide.”
Rafiq’s head slowly bobbed, Al-Musawi’s anger now clearly directed at the Vikings instead of his family, his impromptu lies working out beautifully so far. “That could be an expensive undertaking. They have at least six ships with a substantial head start.”
Al-Musawi sliced the air between them with his hand. “I don’t care about the expense. Commission an expedition, follow them, and kill them all if need be. I want her back.” He reached into his robes and produced a silver ring with colored glass in the center. “This was to be my engagement gift to her. It has been in my family since the days of the Prophet, peace be upon him. When you find her, give this to her as a symbol of my devotion to her.”
Rafiq took the ring and held it up, reading the engraving inside.
For Allah.
He gripped it tightly in his hand. “I shall protect it with my life, and swear I shall return my sister to your side, or die trying.”
Al-Musawi stepped closer, staring into his eyes, sending a chill rushing down Rafiq’s spine. “I’ll trust you to keep your word.”
A bead of sweat rolled down his back, fear gripping him, but he was committed now. He took a chance. “And my family?”
Al-Musawi looked about the room, then down at the patriarch. “There has been no dishonor here. You are all victims to these deceitful Vikings, as am I. Bring her back, and all will be forgiven.”
“And if I fail?”
“Then your life will be the only payment I demand of your family.”
23 |
The Excalibur Hotel & Casino Las Vegas, Nevada Present Day
“I can’t eat that.”
The man stared at whom CIA Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux assumed was his significant other. “Why not?”
“There’s something wrong with it.”
“What?”
“The chicken. It’s too small. It must have been sick.”
The man chuckled and Leroux suppressed a smile. “It’s a Cornish game hen. It’s supposed to be small.”
The young woman, Filipino he was guessing, vehemently shook her head. “You
eat it.”
The man shrugged. “Fine, but you’re going to be hungry later.”
She poked at her fingerling potatoes, clearly not pleased with much of the meal, the dinner served at the medieval show definitely not designed for Asian palates. “Can we order room service when we get back to the hotel?”
The man frowned. “Ugh! I just paid for this!”
She whispered something in his ear.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Baby, for that, you can order the Kobe beef!”
Sherrie White, Leroux’s significant other as well as a CIA Agent, snorted, and the couple they had been eavesdropping on flinched then looked back. Sherrie smacked Leroux on the arm. “You’re too funny, hon.”
Leroux sat in mid-chew, his tiny Cornish game hen gripped in front of his mouth, unsure of what to say. Improvisation was never his strong suit. “Umm, thanks?”
The two in front of them flushed then resumed watching the show, their conversation curtailed, something Leroux would have felt guilty about if he were the one that had dropped the ball.
He glanced at Sherrie. “Some agent you are.”
She shrugged, ripping a leg off the poor bird. “I’m off duty.”
Swords clashed as men raced past each other on horseback, the hooves kicking up the dirt that filled the air with a smell Leroux wasn’t accustomed to.
Nature.
He was a geek, dork, nerd, whatever the kids were calling it these days—probably none of the above—whose idea of a good time was the couch and a good sci-fi marathon. Yet when he had landed the outgoing bombshell sitting beside him with the help of his best friend from high school, Dylan Kane, he began to slowly emerge from his shell.
Though his idea of a good time was still the couch and a good sci-fi marathon, except now he preferred it bookended with sex.
Something twitched.
He gazed at Sherrie for a moment, chewing away as she watched the duel, probably hoping for a slipup that resulted in some real blood. She was all action. Badass, kickass, and smartass. She was awesome, way more than he deserved, though she’d kick his ass if she knew he still sometimes felt that way.
My God, I’m a lucky guy!
Leroux’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out reluctantly. He had no friends besides Sherrie and Kane. She was with him, and Kane was on assignment. That meant it had to be work related, and they weren’t to contact him unless it was a matter of life or death.
Unfortunately, in his business, it was always a matter of life or death.
He checked the call display.
It was Sonya Tong, one of his senior analysts. He flashed the display to Sherrie who shrugged. “If you get recalled, I’m going to the Thunder from Down Under. I’ve got three hours left before I head to Shitbuktu, and I want to enjoy civilization the way it was meant to be. Vegas style.”
He gave her a look then swiped his greasy thumb across the display. “This better be good. I’ve got a girlfriend who’s threatening to leave me for a dozen ripped Aussies.”
“Umm, I think it’s good.”
He immediately regretted being so casual. When he was as happy as he was at this moment, it was too easy to forget there were those who hadn’t been as lucky as him to find the love of their lives. Especially when the love of their lives was on the other end of the phone.
And their boss.
Tong had an unhealthy crush on him, and as her boss, it put him sometimes in a bit of an awkward position, especially when Sherrie was involved in an op.
“What is it?”
“I’ve got a message from Special Agent Kane that he needs help with.”
Leroux immediately became concerned for his best friend, and leaned forward, drawing Sherrie’s attention. She became all business, putting down her food and carefully wiping her fingers as she prepared for a quick change of plans. “What is it? Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. It’s the professors that aren’t.”
Leroux sighed with relief. Though he didn’t wish Professors Acton and Palmer any ill will, should anything happen to them, he’d lose little sleep over it. They were acquaintances at best.
Kane’s death, on the other hand, would leave a hole inside him that he doubted could ever be filled.
“What have they gotten themselves into this time?”
“They’re claiming a colleague of theirs has been kidnapped by the Saudis, and they’re demanding the professors steal some ring to get him back.”
Leroux’s eyebrows shot up.
That’s a new twist.
“Okay, I’m scheduled to be back there tonight, anyway, so start the usual checks. Do you have the name of the professor that was kidnapped?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, run down everything you can on him, find out if there’ve been any reports, and see if you can contact the professors.”
“They’ve asked to not be contacted. They think they’re under surveillance.”
“Okay, find them, see if we can get some eyes on them. I’ll contact the Director to let him know what’s going on, but let’s operate under the assumption we’re a go.”
“Okay, I’ll assemble the team.” There was a pause. “Sorry to interrupt your, umm, romantic getaway.”
Leroux searched for the right words. “Don’t worry about it. It’s Vegas, not Paris.” He ended the call then turned to Sherrie. “Bad news.”
“Professors again?”
“Yup. I’ve gotta call the Director. I’ll be right back.”
“You better hurry. Those oiled up racks of ribs are hitting the stage soon.”
Leroux patted his stomach. “Not happy with my washboard abs for delicates?”
Sherrie snorted, as did the couple in front of them, and Leroux smiled.
Then wondered just how much they had overheard of his phone call.
Amateur move, moron.
24 |
North Sea 989 AD
Magnus stood at the prow of his ship, Fatima at his side, his arm over her shoulders, holding her tight against him. Her warmth was welcome on this chilly morning, though nothing could warm him like the thought of what lay ahead. They were together, their ruse apparently successful, and all six ships were reunited, heading along the blustery coast toward their homeland.
Laden with valuable cargo, the men were in a good mood at the prospect of seeing their families, and his future appeared bright. They had been traveling for what felt like months but was merely weeks, the wind filling their sails the entire way, with the men supplementing their speed with the oars. He was still nervous that their deception might yet be discovered, and the safest place to be would be home, under the protection of his father and the brothers and sisters of the clan.
“How long before we reach your home?”
He smiled at Fatima, squeezing her tighter. “Our home.”
She returned his smile. “Our home.”
“Two days, three at most. You’re going to love it, though you’ll find it colder than you’re used to.”
She rested her head against his chest. “You’ll keep me warm.”
“We’ll keep each other warm. Once we’re wed, we’re never leaving the bed chamber until you’re with child.”
She inhaled deeply, pressing tighter against him. “I can’t wait to have children. I hope they have your hair and eyes.”
Magnus chuckled. “And I hope they have yours.”
She stared up at him. “If it’s a boy, then your coloring. If it’s a girl, then mine?”
He laughed. “May Odin make it so!”
“Sir! Sails on the horizon!”
Magnus’ chest tightened and he let go of Fatima, following his second-in-command, Olav, to the stern of the boat.
“Look!”
He followed the direction Olav indicated and frowned at the crest emblazoned on the sails.
They were trading vessels from the Caliphate.
Fatima joined them. “What is it?”
<
br /> “It looks like our efforts have been discovered. Those are Caliphate ships.”
She gripped his hand tightly, peering into the distance. “Can you be sure?”
“Their markings are unmistakable.” Magnus spun toward his crew. “To the oars! We must reach home before they catch up to us!”
The crew immediately manned their stations, the orders relayed to the other vessels, the rhythmic surge of each stroke underway within moments.
Olav stepped closer, lowering his voice. “How did they catch up to us? We’ve had full sails the entire way, and what I thought was a healthy head start.”
Magnus stared at the ships, frowning. “You’ve forgotten one thing, my friend. We’re laden with cargo, they likely are not.”
Olav frowned. “Should we dump the cargo?”
Magnus shook his head. “No, I will not have this voyage be for naught because of my foolish heart.”
“Then what shall we do?”
“Pray to Odin for a strong wind in our sails and sturdier men than they have at the oars.”
Olav smiled. “Then we have nothing to fear, for none are sturdier than our brothers.”
Magnus patted his friend on the back, concealing the fear he barely held at bay. “From your lips to Odin’s ears, my friend.” He turned to face the ships in pursuit, gripped by worry, as their empty holds gave them the edge on speed.
Please, Odin, carry us safely home, and let me alone face the wrath of those I have wronged.
25 |
Nobis Hotel Stockholm, Sweden Present Day
Acton lay beside Laura on the king size bed, his eyes closed, his hands folded neatly on his chest, holding his phone, just in case he drifted off.
Unfortunately, there was little chance of that.
Laura lay beside him, as exhausted as he was from the non-stop adrenaline rush they had been on for the past few hours, and had just managed to drift off if her rhythmic breathing were any indication, when his phone vibrated.
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