Dangerous in Transit

by Sidney Bristol

  “Then we need to be ready to move at dawn. Val and I need melahfas. It’ll help us blend in better.”

  “Mel—what?” Felix blinked at her. She wasn’t going to push back?

  “What the women wear? The veil and flowing dress sort of thing?” Jackie waved her hands down her body. “Stick with solid black or white, maybe a blue, so we do as much blending in as possible.”

  “That would be a good disguise.” Felix had noted the garments and the nearly uniform array of colors in the poorer parts of the city.

  “I’ll get the others up. The sooner we get going to the hospital, the sooner we can get you safe.” Val strode out of the room.

  “I’ll start loading gear.” Felix straightened.

  “Can I help?” Jackie asked.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “Shane’s still on watch. Isaac and Adam are passed out. I’ll grab them. Let’s plan on meeting back here in fifteen to make our exit strategy and out the door by dawn, okay?” Kyle studied his watch.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Felix turned and led the way through the house and to the two-car garage. After their trip to rescue Jackie, it was easy to see the stark disparity between the areas of the city that had money and those that didn’t. The little he’d read about the country prior to their arrival only supported that observation.

  He held the garage door for her, then closed it.

  “Do you really think all of this was intentional?” Jackie turned to face him.

  “I can’t say.”

  Jackie blew out a breath and turned to the crates.

  “Thank you for listening to me,” he said.

  “We made a deal. I said if you would be honest with me, I’d trust you. I’m frustrated, but I’ll get over it.”

  “Don’t stop looking for better solutions.”

  “I won’t. It’s not my nature.” She smiled. “Okay, where do we start?”

  “We aren’t doing anything. You’re standing right there while I load stuff.” He lowered the tailgate on the truck.

  “Give me something to do, please? I’m a do-er. Val will tell you that I need something to do or I’ll get neurotic and you’ll really hate dealing with me. I’m not going to pass out like I almost did earlier, I swear.”

  “No. I’m not arguing with you anymore. It’s slowing us down, and if we’re slow, we’re dead.”

  “Okay.” Jackie held up her hands. “Sorry, I just—I don’t want to be dead weight.”

  “You aren’t, but you aren’t at one hundred percent, either.”

  He hefted one, and then another of the four crates into the back of the truck under Jackie’s watchful eye. She didn’t move to help with the crates, but she did check each vehicle, removing trash and tidying up.

  In all his time with Aegis Group, much less the Alpha Team, he’d never had a well-to-do woman like Jackie more concerned about everyone else than her own safety. Sure, they’d had some really stand up people who were kind and thoughtful, but Jackie didn’t give two fucks about her own life. That kind of dedication and mindset made Felix ponder his own priorities.

  His cousin would have liked Jackie. Björn was the kind of guy who’d give someone the shirt off their back and smile about it. His heart was that big.

  The world needed more Björns and Jackies.

  “This is the last one.” Felix glanced around, searching for anything they might have missed.

  “Hey.” Jackie stepped into the space between the truck and the wall, hands on her hips. The standard black t-shirt and yoga pants they carried as a contingency looked good on her. But it was the creases on her face that drew his attention.

  “What’s wrong?” He took two steps toward her, then stopped.

  “I’m sorry about earlier.” She stared at his chest, not his eyes. That was all wrong.

  “What earlier?” He didn’t like this sudden reticence to meet things head on. It wasn’t...her.

  “I was half-delirious, and I mauled you—”

  “Apology unnecessary.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mind.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  “Jackie—”

  The door adjoining the house banged open, and Shane—in full tactical gear—burst in. He tossed Felix’s go bag and the bundle of tactical gear straight at Jackie. Felix wrapped his arm around her, pivoted, and caught the gear with one hand.

  “PPM outside the fence.” It wasn’t the words so much as Shane’s face, the wide eyes, tendons straining on either side of his neck and the flare of his nostrils, that sent a momentary chill down Felix’s spine. Shane didn’t spook easily. “Plan B, you’re point.”

  “What?” Jackie glanced between them. “What about Val and the others? What’s going on?”

  Shit.

  There wasn’t time to do this any other way.

  The priority was Jackie.

  “What? Plan B? What does that mean?” She glanced from Shane to him.

  Felix tossed his go-bag into the back of the truck to free his hands. With so many people to move they had to set priorities. Jackie was top of that, then the gear. They couldn’t let the amount of munitions they’d brought with them to fall into the hands of a rogue military force.

  “Arms up.” He dropped his Kevlar vest over her head. Her life was officially more important than his. There wasn’t a moment to lose looking for the asset vest, so his would have to do.

  “What are we doing? What about the others?” Jackie asked. She got this stubborn crease on her brow he was beginning to loathe.

  “In the truck. Without you here they might not care about the others. We have to go.”

  “But—”

  “Do it,” he snapped.

  “Okay, okay.”

  She darted around the truck while he climbed behind the wheel and cranked the engine on the truck.

  “I’ve got the garage door, you just go,” Shane hollered over the chug of the diesel engine.

  “Keep your head down, and don’t let anyone open that door, got it?” He jabbed the lock button and shifted into reverse.

  Behind them, the garage door rose, the pre-dawn sky tinged a slight gray.

  He jammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the truck shot backward. They sailed across the small drive and the street in front of the house.

  Sure enough, a dozen men in the black and red jackets of the PPM were crouched on the other side of the stone wall surrounding the property. It was like being in a war zone all over again. These asset-recovery jobs were tricky and often dangerous, but not like this.

  The uniformed men barely registered their vehicle as it flew past, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in their wake.

  Felix cranked the wheel, and they turned left, still in reverse. There wasn’t time for emotion or reaction. All he had to do was follow the plan. He took the first small side street before easing to a stop and turning once more. With streets and buildings between them and the PPM unit they had a better chance of escaping a tail or follow vehicle.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jackie sucked down lungfuls of air, her voice high and strained.

  “Hold on.”

  He jerked the wheel, and they shot off down another street, the mental map of their Plan B route burned into his memory. Adam was the one who was supposed to be driving in this scenario, but for all Felix knew the other guy was still passed out asleep.

  “What about Val and the others?” Jackie twisted to stare behind them through the dirty window out the back of the truck.

  “Kyle will get everyone out, don’t worry.” Felix checked his mirrors just in case.

  The streets in this part of town were just waking up. A few people strolled the walks, but the traffic was next to nonexistent.

  “What just happened?” Jackie was still breathing too fast and too deep.

  “Jacqueline. Jackie, I need you to take one, slow deep breath and focus on the fact that we’re okay. Everyone is getting out. And b
ring it down a few notches, okay?”

  “Felix—”

  “I’m not answering any questions until you’re calmer. If you keep breathing like that, you’re going to pass out. If we’re attacked again, I need you to be physically able to run, understand? The sooner we get you to safety, the sooner everyone else will be safe too. Got it?”

  To her credit, she didn’t respond, but she did close her eyes and pull in several slow, deep breaths.

  “Good. Okay—what just happened was what looked like a dozen PPM guys were about to storm the house. Shane—who monitors our surveillance—saw them first. That means they followed us, someone saw you, we don’t really know. We are now switching to Plan B.”

  “What’s Plan B?” She gripped the door and held on as they careened around a corner.

  “We will meet everyone at a secondary location.”

  “How are you so calm?”

  “One of us has to be.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Wasn’t trying to be.” He flashed her a smile.

  The only problem he saw was that outside of the route and details about their secondary plan of hunkering down to protect Jackie, he had no names or contacts to deal with. The comms were still a viable communication tool, but that would mean turning them on. If the worst case scenario happened, and the others were overpowered, captured or killed a smart person could use the ear pieces to track them. In Plan B they were to maintain radio silence until twelve hours had passed, at which point he would abandon Plan B and switch to getting the fuck home.

  Felix’s best course of action was to stick with their contingency plan to the letter.

  Get to the secondary location.

  Lock in.

  Wait for contact.

  It sounded a lot easier than it would be, considering where they were going.

  Jackie wouldn’t like this.

  “Is this a normal week for you?” Jackie’s voice still trembled, but she was calmer now.

  “No. Usually there’s a lot less danger involved and a lot more waiting around.”

  “Val always says I do things in style.”

  “I can see her point.”

  “Not funny.” Jackie pushed up in her seat. “Where are we going?”

  “No idea.”

  “What do you mean—no idea?”

  “I memorized a map. Doesn’t mean I know where we’re going, just when to turn.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I have a good memory.” Only three more turns, then the real fun would begin. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jacqueline.”

  “Please don’t call me that?”

  “You like Jackie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why’s that?” If he could take her mind off this moment, it could help her more.

  “My grandmother was Jacqueline.”

  “Mom’s or Dad’s mom?”

  “Dad. She stopped inviting me to family functions when I turned twelve.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dare I ask why?”

  “After Dad kicked Mom out, he hired a nanny, mostly to take care of me. She was Hispanic. Taught me Spanish. The last party Grandma invited me to I spent the whole time talking shit about her with the help. I mean, I was twelve, so I wasn’t saying anything groundbreaking, just the normal stuff. She’s mean. She’s not nice. That sort of thing.” Jackie laughed, her face brightening at the memory.

  “How’d she find out what happened?”

  “Some of her guests came through and saw me. I guess they told her. She chewed me out the next day for making a scene.” Jackie grinned. “I was twelve and bored.”

  “What I want to know is—what were her guests doing in there, huh?”

  “You know, that’s what I’ve wanted to know, too.”

  He scanned the city street for the sign. He’d studied at the photograph at the end with no intent of committing it to memory because he wouldn’t be the one driving in this scenario.

  There.

  Felix turned into what would otherwise be an empty, cleaned out shop stall with a pull down, garage style entrance. He jumped out, not even bothering to kill the engine, and yanked the chain, rolling the door down before the early hour pedestrians registered the truck where it didn’t belong and two very white people. This part of the city wasn’t as well-to-do as where they’d been set up, and their presence would be of more note here where tourists and the like were less common.

  He secured the door with a lock that fastened onto the chain and attached to the wall. It wouldn’t fend off a determined attacker, but it would do for now.

  “Where are we?” Jackie asked.

  “Get out.” He reached in and killed the engine. “Our host might not be thrilled to see us.”

  “Seriously?”

  Did he tell her the truth?

  Jackie squeezed around the front of the vehicle. His vest was ridiculously large on her smaller frame, but in a pinch it might save her life.

  “This is our contact’s home. Remember, he’s part of the PPM. If someone found us, it might be because of him, and if it wasn’t, he might be our only hope of staying a step ahead.”

  “Oh...” Jackie blinked at him, her brown eyes so wide he might fall into them.

  “I’m going first. You stay behind me until I tell you to follow, understand?”

  “Is this necessary?”

  “Yes. I will secure his apartment and then you come inside. Got it?”

  “Okay.” To her credit, she nodded. She might be scared, but she wasn’t falling to pieces on him. That was a good sign. At least she wasn’t swaying and unsteady like she’d been before.

  “Everything will be fine.” He said it as much for her benefit as his. He was operating on autopilot.

  Felix jimmied the door at the back of the space open, letting them into a small entrance way. Stairs rose to their left, climbing to the apartment overhead. All was quiet, even the street outside.

  So far, so good.

  He glanced back at Jackie, keeping a good six feet away and behind the truck.

  She gave him a thumb-up.

  Here went nothing.

  Felix drew his sidearm. In close quarters, he preferred it over a rifle.

  The stairs were relatively new. They didn’t squeak under his weight.

  He peered up through the hole into the loft-style apartment overhead.

  The windows were drawn back, allowing the first light in through the windows. Like the stairs, these were clean and new. The occupant clearly took pride in their home.

  A man pushed up from a prayer mat facing the windows.

  “Hands where I can see them.” Felix quick stepped it up the stairs, weapon aimed at the man.

  He was maybe in his early thirties, hair still rumpled from sleep, not yet out of what appeared to be his pajamas, though Felix could be wrong. Everyone looked like they were wearing sleep clothes to him.

  “Jackie? What’s he saying?”

  “He wants to know what you’re doing here. This wasn’t the deal,” she yelled up from below.

  At least the guy was their informant, and there wouldn’t be any language barriers. Something was going marginally right.

  Saturday. Razqa home in Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Zeina paced the salon. She couldn’t work unless she heard back from Samba, but so far, nothing. That wasn’t acceptable. For as much support as she was giving him, there should be an open line of communication, regardless if Samba despised her.

  The morning sun rose higher and higher, the shadows across the marble floors lengthening, and still no call.

  Tea was brought and grew cold in the cup.

  No call.

  She hated not having control over her life. Being a child of privilege, she’d long since shed the bonds that restricted most women. She did not tolerate idle hours or people wasting her time. How much had she given Samba in resources, money and herself?

  Too much.

 
Screw this.

  Samba could not take her money and pat her on the head. They were partners as much as it galled him to be indebted to a woman.

  Zeina snatched up her phone. Samba wouldn’t answer, but his assistant had no such liberty. She jabbed at the contact for his office and pressed it to her ear.

  The line rang and rang before beeping over to voicemail.

  She gritted her teeth and hung up, sick of Lemine’s voice.

  It was time she took matters into her own hands. PPM would fall without her money bringing in resources, men and weapons. She was the one getting influential people in line or out of the way.

  Zeina would not wait to be told by some man what the future held for her. She’d created this empire from nothing but her parents discarded baubles and she’d go far beyond the borders of this miserable country.

  She strode out into the hall. Her parents were likely still closed up in their rooms, complacent with their lot in life, with no eye for improving their wealth. Zeina would do better than they had.

  Her phone rang, a number unfamiliar to her flashing across the screen.

  “Hello?” She slowed her pace.

  “Zeina Razqa?” a man asked.

  “Speaking. Who is this? How did you get my number?”

  “This is Papis Taleb.”

  Zeina stopped walking. She stopped breathing. She could barely think.

  “May I infer that we are being informal?” she asked slowly.

  “For the moment. I would like to speak with you.”

  “I would welcome a conversation. Somewhere where we can speak in confidence, I hope.”

  “Would your entourage like to meet me for lunch at a private suite at the Mauricenter Hotel?”

  “That would be lovely.” Zeina pivoted. She’d need to be adequately dressed for a meeting of this magnitude.

  Samba could stand her up all he liked. This was opportunity calling her by name.

  7.

  Saturday. PPM Informant Apartment Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Jackie paced the darkened apartment. Keeping active stretched her muscles and kept her occupied. The more she did, the less she wanted to scream oh my God and panic.

  They’d broken into someone’s home, and now that someone was zip-tied to his bathroom pipes.