She pressed her ear to the door. She heard the sound of men's voices speaking Arabic. The words were too faint to make out. "How many guards have you seen?"
"At least two dozen, but I haven't seen much of the ship."
She ran her fingers along the door frame, then started moving slowly along the wall, inspecting the baseboards and the furniture. "Do you know their schedule?"
"I haven't noticed one. I did observe they seem to work in pairs. What are you doing?"
"Checking for surveillance devices. There probably aren't any, since if there were, those guards I heard in the hall would have known that I'm awake and taken up positions closer to the door, but I want to be sure." She continued her inspection, studying the lamps, the light fixtures, the edges of the portholes, every corner of the room. She thought of spots where she would plant transmitters or cameras and went over it again. A wave of dizziness struck her as she reached the bathroom. She closed her eyes and grabbed the door frame.
"Sarah!"
"I'm fine. No problem. It's just the tranks wearing off." When she opened her eyes she saw he was right beside her, his arms outstretched, ready to catch her.
But he wasn't touching her. Just as she'd asked.
Good. That was good. She didn't have the energy to fight him. She regarded the bathroom.
It was almost as large as the bedroom. There were chairs in here, too, and glass shelves stacked with plush white towels. The white marble floor rose in steps to form a huge scallop-shaped tub. The faucets were gold. So were the soap dishes.
Hawk had said there were other doors along the corridor. Did they all lead to quarters like these? Probably. She didn't think Jibril would have given the best to his prisoners. This was likely one of the smaller rooms—the ones she'd glimpsed when she and Hawk had been brought onboard last week had been elegant to the point of decadence. She could only imagine the conspicuous luxury in the rest of the ship.
It was obscene. A prison was still a prison.
"Tell me what to look for," Hawk said. "I'd like to help."
She pushed away from the door frame and headed for the pair of marble basins that were set into a long, low counter. "Look for anything that doesn't belong, like small wires, buttons or chips. Jibril would likely be able to afford the best."
Hawk was a fast learner, Sarah thought. He must have been watching what she had done before. He went through the bathroom as meticulously as she had gone through the other room, moving the chairs, peering into the air vents and beneath the fixtures, using his fingertips to feel for the ends of wires.
She watched him as he worked. His hands were large, his fingers long and square, yet he had a sensitive touch. Not that his hands were soft—his grip was as solid as any man's she'd known. He was able to control his strength. Although he could pick her up as if she weighed nothing, those long, sensitive fingers of his had moved over her body as tenderly as a summer breeze….
No. She couldn't think about that. She had to concentrate. She had to set her priorities, keep her mind on her mission.
She looked away from Hawk and checked the items that were arranged on the counter. There were crystal bottles of bath oil, a gold-plated brush and comb set, rolled hand towels as soft as velvet. More luxuries for the prisoners. Either Jibril was deliberately taunting them, or he was too confident of his power over them to consider the possibility that a shard of crystal could be used as a knife.
She regarded the mirror that was fixed to the wall over the sinks. She checked the edges and the supports first before she leaned closer and peered at the glass. She tried looking from a different angle, but she didn't spot any telltale shadow from behind it. If she wanted to be sure it didn't conceal a camera, she could always break it, but it seemed as if her first guess was correct. The rooms were clean. More signs that Jibril was underestimating them? She pulled back, her focus shifting. She finally noticed her reflection.
She had never been vain about her looks—she knew they were superficial—yet what she saw made her slap her palms against the sink to keep from falling. It wasn't the tangled hair that bothered her, or the puffy circles under her eyes and the lines of strain around her lips.
It was the despair in her gaze.
Who was she fooling? How could they escape? Even if they could get out of this room, there was nowhere for them to go. They were outnumbered and outgunned, surrounded by miles of frigid water, at the mercy of a bastard who decorated a prison cell with gold and marble.
She had to be strong.
But how could she be strong when she was locked in here with the one man who made her weak, who made her feel like crying and throwing herself into his arms and wanting sweet promises and, yes, roses on her breakfast plate….
She jumped at the movement in the mirror. It was Hawk. He had come up behind her again, his hands held out as if he were going to hug her just as she wanted. No, she couldn't want it. "Don't," she said.
He met her gaze in the mirror. Slowly he pulled back his hands. "Sarah, I'm sorry for what I said before, when we were at the bridge."
"This is hardly the time—"
"No, I want to clear the air. I've had two days to think about it, and you were right. I had no business badgering you about Jackson the way I did."
"None of that matters. What's done is done. Forget it."
"I'm sorry I upset you. I was wrong to push you so hard, but—"
"So don't start doing it again, okay?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "If that's what you want."
"Yes, that's what I want. As far as I'm concerned, our relationship ended two days ago. This is no longer personal. I'm back on duty."
"Sarah…"
"That's how it has to be, Hawk. We'll work together to get out of here but that's all. We have to concentrate on surviving."
"We will."
He sounded so certain. Oh, how she wanted to cling to him, feel the sharp pleasure of his lips on her body and forget who they were and where they were….
She straightened her spine. "Yes, of course, we will."
He continued to look at her, his gaze taking on a familiar intense gleam.
He knew, she realized. He knew she was scared and she was hanging on by a thread. That was the real reason he'd backed off.
She looked down, letting her hair swing forward to shield her face. "Give me a few minutes alone, Hawk."
He stepped back. He said nothing more. She heard his footsteps on the marble floor, then the sound of running water.
Damn the man. He wasn't leaving, he was drawing her another bath.
Chapter 11
Moisture drizzled down the wall of windows, casting a gray pall over the room where Jibril had received Hawk and Sarah the week before. Nothing was visible beyond the ship's bow except clouds, water and the creeping wall of dusk. The long swells that rolled over the surface of the sea would have tossed around a smaller vessel, but the heavy Faith powered forward like a tank through sand dunes.
Hawk estimated they would be approaching the Atlantic by now. Storms could blow up with little warning at this time of year. Two people adrift in a lifeboat without a radio or supplies wouldn't have much chance of survival. There would be even less chance of survival in the water—they would succumb to hypothermia within minutes.
That was assuming they could get past the Moukim Palace Guards who were stationed around the room. Jibril's men weren't dressed as sailors anymore. They were wearing green camouflage battle uniforms. Each man was armed with a handgun that was holstered at his side and a rifle slung over his shoulder. They stood the same way Hawk had seen Sarah stand when she was readying herself for action.
They were trained commandos. Even if they'd been unarmed, Hawk knew he was no match physically for any of these men. That didn't stop him from wanting to smash his fist into the face of every one of them for the strain this was putting on Sarah.
But a confrontation at this stage would be fruitless. If he or Sarah showed any resistance, they wo
uld likely be bound and gagged again.
"This way, please."
Hawk looked at the guard who had fetched them from their room. It was the crooked-nosed man named Ahmed. He and all the others were continuing their charade of civility despite their actions. They betrayed no emotion as they carried out their orders.
Sarah moved to follow Ahmed. Hawk reached for her hand but she angled herself so she was just out of his reach.
Hawk swallowed his frustration and fell into step beside her. He knew she preferred to have her hands free and to have space to move, but that wasn't the main reason she had pulled away. She didn't want him to touch her. She said it was over. She wanted to forget they had made love.
The hell of it was, he could see her point. They had to put their personal feelings aside and concentrate on surviving. He was no soldier, he couldn't shut off his emotions, but for her sake he could control his actions. He owed her that much, didn't he?
An image of Sarah tied up in the helicopter flashed into his mind. Hawk clenched his teeth. Would he ever get used to the rage?
Yet Sarah walked with dignity, just as she always did. She had her chin lifted and her back straight, meeting the guards' gazes squarely, betraying none of the fear Hawk knew was churning inside her.
Her inner strength continued to humble him. She was a woman in a million. And once they got home…
Once they were home, she would probably want to leave him again.
"Ah, good. I'm so pleased my guests have decided to join me." Jibril was lounging in the center of one of the room's long white couches. He was in full traditional dress today, the folds of his djellabah draped gracefully around him. The glass table in front of him held a silver coffee service but only one cup. There were no other couches or chairs nearby—obviously the charade of courtesy only went so far. Jibril didn't expect his "guests" to sit.
Ahmed guided Hawk and Sarah toward a spot several yards away from Jibril's couch and brought them to a halt. He took one pace back, resting his hand on the trigger of his gun.
"I trust you're enjoying my hospitality?" Jibril asked. "Is there anything you desire?"
"I demand that you release us," Hawk said.
Jibril shook his head. "After all the trouble you put me through to bring you here?"
"People will already be searching for us. Let us go now before it's too late."
Jibril laughed. "You are a fool, Hawkins."
Hawk didn't respond. He waited for Jibril to go on. He wanted him to gloat because that was the quickest way to get information. He wasn't disappointed.
"We're in international waters," Jibril said. "No one can board us legally without just cause. Even then, they would have difficulty getting past the Faith's defenses. Regardless, no one would suspect you were here since the Faith left Stockholm almost a full day before you did."
Hawk waited again. Jibril was obviously enjoying demonstrating how clever he was. The mask of affability he'd used the last time they'd spoken in this room was completely gone. Jibril must have been storing up resentment for years.
"Furthermore, no one has been searching for you because no one is yet aware that you're missing."
"Someone would have witnessed our abduction."
"No, I'm afraid not. My men assured me the area where they acquired you was deserted. There were no witnesses. In addition, your luggage has been removed from your hotel room and disposed of, your bill has been settled and your credit card has been used to book a rental car." Jibril smirked. "As a matter of fact, your credit cards will be leaving a trail throughout Europe."
"It will never work," Hawk said.
"On the contrary, it works out perfectly. Everyone will assume the famous Dr. Lemay wished to escape the limelight in order to find privacy with his…how shall I put this politely?" Jibril tilted his head and looked at Sarah. "His latest conquest?"
Hawk felt Sarah touch his sleeve, but he didn't need her caution. He wasn't going to respond to Jibril's provocation. Besides, there was no point denying that he had a relationship with Sarah. From the moment they had arrived onboard until Sarah had awakened in their quarters, he'd made his concern for her plain.
"I'm pleased you have availed yourself of the soaps and lotions I provided, Captain Fox," Jibril said. "And the comb. But those clothes are a sight. I must arrange to supply you with spare garments and have yours laundered."
Sarah didn't respond to the goading. Hawk wasn't surprised. Although she had scrubbed herself clean and then tamed her hair into a braid after her soak in the bath, he knew she hadn't done it solely for the sake of her appearance. Her sense of self-worth went far deeper than that.
"Yes, you always did have an eye for beauty," Jibril went on, returning his gaze to Hawk. "That is fortunate for the lovely captain. It is your interest in her that is keeping her alive."
Hawk had suspected as much. Sarah hadn't been the target of whatever Jibril was planning, Hawk had. She was only here because of her connection to him. She had been put into harm's way—again—because of him. "You said you wanted me dead, Jibril. Why did you bring us here? Why keep either of us alive?"
"Don't you want to know why I hired Weltzer to kill you?"
"That's obvious. You wanted to stop my research."
"There are other more personal reasons I might want you dead, Hawkins."
"If this was because I once had Faith, your jealousy wouldn't have waited fourteen years, and you wouldn't have gone to the expense of hiring a hit man. You said yourself that you're a practical man."
Jibril got to his feet. His smile was gone, as was the indolent pose. "Yes, I am practical. Dieter Weltzer was an investment to guarantee the continuing prosperity of Moukim. Weltzer was to have eliminated you in such a way that no suspicion fell on me."
Hawk had had plenty of time to think about this during those endless two days while Sarah had been sedated. All the pieces fit. Jibril had as much motive as any of his OPEC associates. He would have known about Hawk's habits, so he would have advised Weltzer how to set up that first assassination attempt. When that had failed, it was possible Jibril had been planning to kill Hawk after having his men spirit him away from the reception on the first night of the conference, but Sarah had foiled that, too, just as she'd eliminated the risk the next day by notifying the embassy of Hawk's visit to the Faith.
Sarah had suspected Jibril immediately, but Hawk had let his personal feelings—and his plans for his work—blind him to the truth.
The regrets kept mounting. "How much wealth and power will be enough, Jibril?" he asked. "Will there ever be a point when you're satisfied?"
"When I have it all, Hawkins," he replied. "I told you before, in any competition there is room for only one winner. But you deceive yourself if you think this is not about the past. You yourself made it that way. You waited fourteen years for your revenge. Did you really think I would allow it?"
Revenge? That threw him. "What are you talking about?"
"Your research. You knew my country was rich in oil, so you devoted your life to finding an alternative." He snapped his fingers at the two nearest guards. They came forward to move the table with the coffee service aside, then took up positions on either side of him. "That was how you planned to defeat me," he said. "You wanted to destroy my wealth and my power. You chose your path because you wanted revenge. You hide behind your noble ideas of what fusion power could do for the world, but this has always been about the woman I won from you."
Hawk felt himself waver. No. Jibril couldn't be right, could he? Just how much influence did Hawk's past have on his life? "I began researching fusion power because I did my doctorate work on particle physics. It had nothing to do with you. It wasn't some personal vendetta."
Jibril continued as if Hawk hadn't spoken. "Then you had the impertinence to insult me with your offer to share. Share. Pah! You expected me to share your discoveries with my neighbors and then the world. You did not truly expect me to agree to that, did you, Hawkins? That would be a fool's ba
rgain."
"You should have taken it," Hawk said. "The research you wanted to stop belongs to everyone now. The world's best physicists are working to complete it. Killing me won't prevent that, and you can't kill them all."
"Which brings us to the reason you are here." Jibril approached, his guards at his elbows. He stopped when he was still well out of reach and barked out a command in Arabic. More guards converged on Hawk and Sarah, their weapons drawn. Only then did Jibril move closer. "It appears you have involved me in another competition, Hawkins."
Hawk regarded the man he had once considered his friend. There was no trace of warmth in Jibril's dark eyes, just cold calculation. "What do you want, Jibril?"
"I want what you offered me before. Fusion power."
"I told you. It already belongs to everyone."
"It is only the promise that belongs to everyone, not the final key. You made this a race. I intend to use you to reach the finish line first."
"How?"
"You will complete your work before anyone else. Your power will give me power. By the time the rest of the world catches up to our technology, if it ever does, Moukim will already control their economies. There will be a new world order that my nation will dominate. We will be invincible."
It would be easier if Hawk could believe that Jibril was mad, but his scheme was all too plausible. It was true that Hawk would be able to complete his research before other scientists could. He'd devoted his life to it so he had an advantage no one else had.
But this hoarding by one nation was exactly what Hawk had hoped to prevent. He moved his head from side to side. "Completing my research isn't that simple. I would need my notes and my computer for my theoretical work as well as time on a particle accelerator to run experiments. For the final stages I would need access to the equipment in my lab to build a prototype reactor."
"Our Royal Academy of Science has all the equipment and facilities you require. Preparations are already underway to provide you with exclusive access. By the time we arrive in Moukim, the arrangements will be complete. Moreover, all of your research to date is—How did you put it? Freely available on the Web sites of every major university? That was very obliging of you. My men have already transferred those files to the computer I have acquired for you. As you see, there is no reason you cannot complete your research while you remain my guest. In fact, now that the computer equipment has been delivered here to the Faith, you can resume your theoretical work tomorrow."
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