Bryce told him Madain Salah had tombs carved into an outcrop of rocks that had been filled with artifacts at one time. It was said to be quite unique, though he doubted they’d get a chance to sightsee.
“Do you think Billy and Bryce will be able to find a chopper?” Robert question drew Flint’s attention back to the business at hand.
“I hope so. I’d hate to have to travel this road at night, especially if Lenon is chasing us.”
“What do you think this prince is digging for?” Robert glanced at Flint, then back to the road.
Flint shrugged “Who knows? What do you think he has to do with Hartford, and why did Hartford need access to DNS files? This whole thing is strange, and leaves a lot of unanswered questions. Like, why does Ryan Hartford have it in for me so bad?”
Robert looked uncomfortable with his question. Suddenly, Flint sensed that his uncle knew more than he was letting on, and clearly had for some time now.
“What? Do you know something? Can you tell me why Hartford despises me so much?”
From the way Robert shifted in his seat, Flint knew he did, but obviously didn’t want to talk about it.
“I don’t think this is the best time to get into it,” Robert hedged.
Flint narrowed his gaze on his uncle. “Tell me what you know, Robert.”
“All right.” His uncle took a deep breath. “It goes way back. When you were a little boy your father worked for what was tentatively then the DNS.”
Flint couldn’t have been more shocked. “What? You never told me my father worked for the company.”
“I should have told you, Flint, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take to finding out that your parents were killed because of something your father had been working on.”
“But they were killed in a car accident.” Flint stared in disbelief at his uncle, as if seeing him for the first time.
“Yes, they were killed in their car, but from an explosion caused by a bomb planted under the ignition switch. When Cole turned the key, it triggered the explosive. He and your mother never had a chance. You were lucky you were with my parents at the time or you would’ve been killed as well. Actually, DNS representatives told the world you were killed along with your parents because they were afraid they’d try to get to you, too.”
Inside, Flint felt betrayed. Everything he’d thought he’d known had been a lie. “So what does this all have to do with Ryan Hartford?”
“Your father was working on a case with Grant Hartford, Ryan’s father, who was also DNS. It was cold war stuff. Lost uranium from Russia the US was trying to find in a hurry. They were over here in Saudi Arabia, known to be the last place this so-called uranium was spotted. Then it just disappeared. Vanished off the face of the earth. Naturally everyone with DNS and CIA were very concerned. Anyway, Cole and Grant were over here trying to find out anything they could about its whereabouts, with no success. At least that’s what Cole thought. Grant was what they referred to at the time as a double agent. He worked for DNS and for a private Russian benefactor, one very interested in selling this Uranium 235 to the highest bidder. Iran was very interested in acquiring it at the time.”
Flint frowned. “How did they find out Grant Hartford worked for this Russian?”
“Your father found out completely by accident, and confronted him with it. The two argued, Grant pulled a gun on Cole, they struggled. Your father shot and killed him.”
Flint shook his head in disbelief.
“And this is why Ryan Hartford wants me dead, because my father killed his? Why did it take so long for him to come after me?”
“Because, like I said, DNS made it look as if you were killed in that car as well, so he thought you were dead.”
“How did he find out I wasn’t?”
“Those stolen DNS files I imagine, or he might have found out another way, and just accessed the files to confirm it.”
This was hard to take in. “I can’t believe this. Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I meant to, but you were a hothead already and I didn’t want you going off in a rage, trying to find out who murdered your parents. You’d have gotten yourself killed.”
Flint threaded his hands through his hair. Robert knew him well. He would have tried to find out who butchered his parents, and in the process probably gotten murdered.
“So who killed my parents?” Flint studied his uncle’s face. If Grant Hartford was dead than who could have ordered their kill?
“That... is another very long story. And, as you can see, we don’t have time right now.”
Robert pulled to the side of the rode and killed the engine.
Flint glanced around.
“All right, but after this is over, you’re going to tell me who took the lives of my parents.”
Robert opened the door of the Jeep. “Deal. So, let’s go get your woman.”
An hour later, Flint and Robert stared down at a cluster of tents. Men in robes mulled around. What looked to be guards stood sentry at each corner of the perimeter of the large encampment. Further east, Flint saw the outcrop of tombs Bryce had spoken of. They blocked the backside of the camp completely, and would be the perfect place for them to slip in.
“What do you think?” Flint asked, then handed his binoculars to his uncle. Robert glanced around the camp and then turned to him.
“I say we go in through the back, by the tombs. They have no guards posted there and we can climb down and sneak in that large tent there.” Robert pointed to a huge tent, centered in the rear of the camp.
“I agree. Let’s go.” Flint crawled off toward the direction of the tombs, sliding down a dune, then up another steep drift. After working their way down to the front of the catacomb, they found themselves located directly behind the big central tent.
“Now what?” Flint turned to Robert. “Maybe we could find some sort of disguises to slip in and search for Adriana and get out without anyone even noticing.”
“What kind of disguises?”
Robert shrugged. “I don’t know. Can’t you think of something?”
“Sure, I’ll go in there as one of Lenon’s harem woman.” Flint said sarcastically.
A dark brow shot up on Robert’s face. “Hey, that’s not such a bad idea.”
Flint snorted. “You’re not serious? No way! I’m not dressing up as a woman. We’ll have to think of something else.”
“How bad do you want Adriana back?”
Flint released a frustrated breath. “You know I’d do anything to get Dray back, but dressing like a woman? Do I really have to go that far?”
“Come on. Let’s find you something to wear.” Robert pushed Flint toward the tent.
After cutting a small hole in the canvas, Flint stuck his head in and peered around. The room was empty.
They squeezed through, hoping to get lucky and find something as a disguise before they got caught.
Once they were both inside, Flint spotted a group of tall wicker baskets lining one wall. It looked to be used for storage.
Searching the baskets, Robert pulled out a pea-green robe with an array of colorful gems around the collar. “Perfect.” Robert threw it at Flint. “Just your color.”
“You know I don’t… ah… think…ah… this is going to work,” Flint stuttered.
Robert patted his back. “Sure it will.”
Flint shook his head. “But, I don’t look anything like a woman.”
“Not now, but when I’m through with you, you’ll look fabulous.”
“Oh shit,” Flint hissed. “You’re going to enjoy this aren’t you?”
Robert grinned from ear to ear. “You got it.”
* * *
Adriana tucked a large piece of the broken plate under the mattress of the bed, then picked up the rest and placed them on the table in a jumble so no one would realize there was a piece missing. Either she’d use it as a weapon later or a means to cut her way out of the tent. But she was going to wait for the perfect time firs
t. Then, when that time came, she’d escape.
Kadar’s entrance brought her out of her thoughts of flight.
“What?” Adriana asked. “Did I do something wrong again?”
“Prince Lenon has asked that you join him for the evening meal.” Kadar used the same irritated tone she had.
“Tell your highness, thanks, but no thanks.”
He sneered. “It was not a request. You will dine with him. But you will bathe first and dress accordingly.”
Kadar turned to leave as another Arab carried the brass tub in, and two of the women Adriana had met earlier that day came with, carrying bottles and a gold robe with jeweled embellishments.
“We’ve come to help you bathe,” the auburn-haired woman who’d detained her said, looking annoyed at the prospect.
Adriana glared at the woman, just as bothered with her. “I think I can manage to take a bath by myself.”
“If we don’t assist you, Prince Lenon will punish us. Would you have him do that?”
“Oh, all right,” Adriana said in a snit. If the bath didn’t look so inviting, she would’ve objected.
She waited until three men filled the tub and left, then slipped out of her clothes, feeling a little self-conscious about other women watching her.
Easing in, she sunk low into the tub, trying to hide her naked body from her audience. Scented oil was poured in, the smell of jasmine filling the air around her. A soothing aroma that helped her relax.
They washed her hair with a similar scent, and then rinsed it thoroughly. Adriana had a hard time keeping her eyes open, the smell immersing her into an almost euphoric sense of well being.
After her bath, she was rubbed down with the same scented oil, then helped to dress, and given a glass of amber liquid to drink.
Adriana looked at it suspiciously. “What is this?”
“Just drink it. You’ll be better off, believe me.”
She shook her head. “If I don’t know what it is, I’m not going to drink it.”
“It will help you to relax. You’ll need it if Sultan plans to-well, if he wants you tonight.”
“That asshole isn’t going to touch me. I have a man.” At least I had one. Emotions clogged her throat as she envisioned Flint.
“You do?” the raven-haired woman who reminded her of Flint asked with a faraway look in her eyes.
“Yes. He has hair the color of yours, and eyes the hue of high-glossed pewter.” Adriana sighed as she thought of the man she loved.
“What about his body?” the redhead asked, watching Adriana intently.
“It’s perfect. He’s tall and lean with a solid wall of muscle.”
The two women sighed.
“Does he love you?” the raven-haired woman asked.
Adriana shook her head as her words sunk in.
“No. Flint doesn’t love me. I don’t think he knows how to love anyone.” Her eyes filled with tears and her throat tightened painfully, although she tried to hold them back.
“I am very sorry.” The dark-haired woman placed her hand gently on Adriana’s shoulder. “My name is Kanika. I have been here for close to three years now. My father sold me to the Sultan.”
Adriana couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “Why would your father do such a thing?” Adriana was angry that children had no rights in some countries.
“Because I had two sisters who needed to eat and the prince offered to feed them.”
“How old were you?” Adriana scanned the woman’s lean frame, thinking she couldn’t be much more than twenty.
“Twenty-one,” she admitted, hanging her head.
“If Sultan likes his women inexperienced, what am I doing here? I’m hardly a flowering virgin.”
“You are an American woman. He has heard women from the United States are not easy to control and he wishes to bend you to his will. You will be a challenge to him. You will either submit or die.”
“Well, I guess I won’t last the night then, because I’m not going to give in.”
“It is not all that bad. If you drink this.” Kanika shoved the glass into her hand.
“Why would I want to?”
“It will make it easier to deal with the pain.”
“But like I told you, I’m not a virgin.”
“That is not the kind I am speaking of. Sultan is not a gentle lover.” Kanika’s face flushed. “He likes to inflict agony.”
Adriana swallowed hard, the woman’s words penetrating into her thought process. “What does he do?”
“It is best you not know. Drink.” She pushed the glass to her lips. “The liquid will help you get through it.”
Adriana hadn’t intended to drink it, but when Kanika’s pleading eyes held hers, she drank the fiery concoction.
“We must go now. Sultan will arrive soon.”
Both women looked at Adriana sympathetically, then turned and ran from the room. Seconds later, a strange warmth crept over her entire body. What was the liquid they’d given her anyway, and why could she hardly move now?
She closed her eyes, watching a rainbow of colors spin around in her head. Whatever the drink was, she wasn’t going to be able to protect herself, even if she wanted to, not if she couldn’t move.
Adriana forced her eyes opened and saw someone standing over her. She blinked, trying to clear the vision, and then looked closely at the image. The person looked like Flint. But how could that be? This Flint was wearing a gaudy robe and veil. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. This was all wrong. She was seeing things. The Flint she knew wouldn’t be caught dead in that color.
Chapter Twenty
“Adriana, it’s me.” Flint shook her gently when her eyes fluttered shut. “Sweetheart, we need to get out of here right now.” She opened her eyes and stared at him like he was a ghost.
“Honey, did they give you something?”
She nodded slowly. “Ah hah.”
“Do you know what?”
“Pretty… amber… liquid.” Her eyelids slid shut.
Shit. How was he going to get her out of here without drawing everyone’s attention?
At this rate, he’d have to carry her. Robert had gone back to the tombs to wait for them, so he’d be no help.
“Who are you?” a deep voice from directly behind him asked.
Turning, Flint saw a huge, sullen-looking Arab standing just inside the room. He wore a scowl.
“I came to attend to our prisoner.” Flint was amazed at how high-pitched he got his voice. But would the guy fall for it.
“Are you new here?” he asked, eyeing him closely. “I have not seen you before.”
“Yes. I have just arrived from Riyadh.” Flint adjusted his veil, trying to hide more of his face.
“Ah,” the guard said, his gaze running over him from head to toe, hesitating briefly on his chest.
Robert had padded him too much. Now he had a man ogling his rack.
The man’s eyes took on an almost lustful gleam. “Are you spoken for?”
“No, I mean, yes.” Flint stomach lurched. How was he going to get out of this one with his manhood intact? Thank God Robert wasn’t here to witness it. He’d never live it down.
“Is it yes, then?” The guard looked crushed by his words. What was wrong with him? He was clearly blind as a bat. But maybe he could use the man’s admiration to his advantage, though he’d have to be very careful not let him get too forward. The mere thought made Flint cringe.
“Are you cold?” he asked Flint, his dark eyes showing concern.
“Flint,” Adriana whispered behind him.
He swung around to look at her. Now what?
“She’s been given the amber liquid to drink.” Flint hoped he’d understand what he meant.
“Ah, yes,” he said, his look of suspicion dissipating. “So, what is your name, woman?”
Flint’s mind raced for an Arab woman’s name.
“Fliteema,” he blurted out without thinking.
The guard smiled.
“It is a beautiful name, for a beautiful woman.”
Flint could’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s comment, but he controlled the urge. In a way, he was thankful for the man’s eye impairment, but it still didn’t set well to have a man wanting to date him.
Adriana slapped Flint on the back. “Why are you wearing a dress?” He turned as her eyes fluttered shut again.
“She’s clearly delirious. She does not know that women wear such things.” Flint held his breath. Would he see through his ruse? If he did, Flint and Adriana were in deep shit.
The guard moved closer, sighing deeply.
“Can we meet later? Prince Lenon will be here soon and I will not be needed until after he has finished with her.” The guard pointed to Adriana and scowled. “She has been a difficult woman. I have wanted to wring her scrawny neck since she arrived. What the prince wants with her, only he knows. But you--you are beautiful.” He leaned into Flint.
Flint backed away, fanning his face with his hands.
“Will you meet me then?” He winked at Flint. Obviously he wasn’t leaving until Flint gave the guy an answer.
Flint swallowed hard, then said yes, gritting his teeth at the thought of meeting the man anywhere. Adriana was the most beautiful woman Flint had ever seen, yet this guard preferred him. Hell, he must like his women a little on the masculine side.
The guard turned to leave, then swung back and winked at him again. “Until later.” His words were said with a hint of promise, a tinge of something Flint didn’t even want to think about.
Flint forced a smile. God. Why me?
After the huge man had gone, Flint shook Adriana again.
“Dray, we have to get out of here. Wake up.”
“Hum—what?”
“Honey, we don’t have much time. We need to get out of here and meet Robert outside the tombs. Do you think you can?”
Adriana looked at him through narrowed, sleepy eyes. “Who are you?”
“Baby, it’s Flint. Do you think you can walk?”
“Flitmeema is what you told Kadar.”
Flint sighed with frustration. “Dray, we don’t have time for this. We have to get out of here before this Prince Lenon character shows up.”
Her Man Flint Page 12