“Ready,” Ronnie’s calm voice comes back in his ear. He can’t help but smile as he carefully places his feet.
He quickly glances up and down the empty road before crossing, a hundred yards from the Masood home. He pulls his weapon and attaches the suppressor before firing six shots into the transformer on the nearby pole. Nothing happens for a moment and then he hears a frying buzz followed by a loud bang. What few lights remained on are now out. He waits a few minutes to see if the lights come back on. When they don’t, he moves swiftly back to the Masood home.
Arriving at the house, he quickly circles it until he finds the utility hookup. Pulling the wire cutters from his back pocket he cuts the phone line, then throws the main breaker on the house. He had taken out the transformer to keep the street lights and the few nearby houses dark, and now, after throwing the breaker, if the power comes back on along the street the Masood house will remain dark.
Moving to the back of the house, Ryker tries the patio door. Locked, of course. He tries each of the windows, but they are all locked as well. Moving back to the door, he pulls the wire cutters again and begins to nip away at the edge of the plastic trim holding the glass in the door until he is able to quietly break the window and reach inside to unlock the door.
Less than ten minutes after shooting out the transformer, Ryker is quietly opening the door to the kitchen.
He quickly and quietly searches the kitchen for the vials but finds nothing, as he expected. He performs the same search on an office in another room with the same results. He had hoped he might get lucky, but apparently not. Now it is time to do it the hard way.
He moves silently down the hall, the night-vision goggles allowing him to see in and move through the unfamiliar house with ease. He peeks into the daughter’s room first, then moves to an empty room, before finally finding the master suite. Kadar Masood and his wife are asleep in the bed. He pulls his weapon and steps inside before slowly closing the door, his heart nearly stopping when it starts to squeak, and locks it. Moving to the bed he steels himself for what he is about to do before placing a hand firmly over Kadar’s mouth and putting the gun to his temple.
Kadar starts awake with muffled shout, his thrashing waking his wife. Ryker waits until the woman sees him before snapping the weapon up to point it directly at her head. “Do you speak English?” Ryker asks, making his voice as cold, hard, and deadly as he can. When the woman nods that she does, Ryker continues. “If you do exactly as I say, you both will live to see your daughter again. If you don’t… I won’t leave any witnesses behind. Do I make myself clear?”
Both Kadar and the woman nod silently, their eyes wide in terror.
“Very good. First, if you make so much as a sound I will kill you both.” Ryker looks at Kadar. “I’m going to bind your hands, Kadar. Then I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to answer these questions truthfully the first time I ask them, or I will kill your wife. Understood?”
Kadar nods his head frantically. Ryker releases Kadar’s mouth and pulls two plastic restrains from his pocket.
“Bind her hands and feet. I’m going to check them so make sure they are tight.”
Kadar does as he is told, kissing his wife on the forehead and wiping away her tears when he is done. “Don’t hurt her. Take…” Kadar begins.
“Shut up!” Ryker rumbles quietly. “You want to save your wife and daughter? Do as I say.” Ryker knows that Ronnie is listening. “Bring the truck.”
He pulls another set of restraints from his pocket. “Turn around,” he orders. When Kadar complies, he binds his wrists. “Back on the bed,” Ryker orders, then binds his ankles.
“You’re almost free. Now Kadar, I know you are involved with the kidnapping of Dr. Julian Baker and the theft of the virus, so don’t waste my time by denying it,” Ryker hisses menacingly, watching as the woman’s eyes open wide, staring at her husband. Seems that Mrs. Masood didn’t know everything her husband did. “I want to know one thing. Where is the virus?”
“I don’t know!” Kadar whispers, his eyes widening, knowing that Ryker isn’t going to believe him.
“Wrong answer!” Ryker snarls, his weapon snapping up and pointing directly at Kadar’s wife.
“No! Wait! I swear!” Kadar pleads. “You’re right! I brokered the deal for Dr. Baker. But I never had the virus! I swear. I just provide the money and contacts! Please, I swear!”
“Who has the virus?”
“I don’t know! I swear!”
“Who’s your contact?” That question gives Kadar some pause. “Say goodbye,” Ryker sneers, his weapon never wavering from the woman’s head.
“Ghazi Kalif!” Kadar says loudly. “Ghazi Kalif is my contact!”
“How do I contact him?”
“I have his phone number! Please! That’s all I know!”
“Ryker, I’m here,” Ronnie’s voice says in his ear.
“Go around to the back of the house, onto the patio. The door is open, go left, down the hall to the farthest room. The daughter is asleep in one of the other rooms so be quiet.”
Ryker moves to the door and opens it, using his penlight to help Ronnie down the hall when she appears. “Watch them. Don’t kill them unless you have to,” he says as she steps into the room, just loud enough for the man and woman to hear.
Ronnie tries to look calm and willing to kill at any provocation. Maybe, in the dark, she can pull it off. “Where are you going?”
“To get the daughter.”
“No!” Kadar shouts, and Ryker snaps his weapon up and points it directly at his wife’s head.
“One more sound out of you and she’s dead!” he threatens, his voice deadly. “I only need you. Your wife and daughter are just a problem. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because I haven’t killed them already, I won’t now.”
Ronnie can’t believe that Ryker would actually gun down a woman and child in cold blood, but his voice is so cold and matter of fact she isn’t sure. Her heart thudding in her chest, she holds her tongue, letting the drama play out.
“Don’t hurt her,” the woman pleads. “Please, she’s just a child!”
“It’s up to you if she gets hurt or not,” Ryker says, lowering his weapon. “Watch them,” he says to Ronnie as he walks out. Less than a minute later they hear the shriek of a young woman’s voice, quickly silenced. Ronnie can feel her eyes tear up as the woman on the bed sobs quietly.
A moment later Ryker and the young woman return. The weapon isn’t pointed at the girl but Ryker’s hand on her shoulder makes his threat clear. The young woman speaks rapidly to her parents in Lebanese before Ryker shoves her onto the bed. Reaching into his back pocket he pulls out another plastic restraint and hands it to Ronnie. “Bind her hands behind her back.”
When that is done, Ronnie looks to Ryker. “Go open the back of the truck,” he says, pulling his wire cutters from his pocket and cutting the bindings on the adult’s legs.
“Where are you taking us?” Kadar demands.
“We’re going for a little ride. You won’t be harmed so long as you continue to cooperate. But the next time you think about getting mixed up in kidnapping and bioweapons, remember what could have happened to your family if I weren’t such a reasonable guy.”
Ryker hauls Kadar to his feet. “All of you, out the front door and into the back of the truck. This is almost over. Don’t do anything stupid now.” Ryker follows the three out, his weapon pointed down, but his hand on the daughters shoulder as a thinly veiled threat as they march out, Ryker last in the line. As Ryker climbs into the back of the truck he looks at Ronnie. “Shut the front door and then back to where we started… and call our friends for pickup.”
As Ronnie shuts the door Ryker takes the only chair. He locks it to the floor so it can’t move around on its track embedded in the floor. “Down on the floor. All of you. We have a long ride.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It’s just after three in the morning by the time Ronnie
pulls the Mogle into the parking garage of the hotel. “Ryker… we’re here,” she says drowsily. Good thing the truck is easy to drive. Even though she took a nap yesterday afternoon she is feeling the effects of the long day.
“Understood. Any sign of our friends?”
“Not yet. Wait a minute. Here comes another car.”
“On your feet!” Ryker orders, snapping the woman and daughter awake.
The three struggle to their feet just as the door opens. “Did you get the virus?” Mr. Spreck asks.
“No. But I have the next link in the chain... Ghazi Kalif. Kadar has his phone number.”
“Excellent work. We’ll take it from here,” Mr. Spreck says, helping the daughter then the woman down the three steps to the ground. “Cut them loose,” he says. Before one of Spreck’s men can move, Ryker produces his wire cutters and snips their wrists free.
“What are you going to do with us?” Kadar asks, pulling his wife and daughter to him.
“That all depends on you and how cooperative you are,” Mr. Spreck says as the bag team moves in around the Masood family. “Go get some sleep,” he says to Ryker and Ronnie. “It’s going to take some time to check out this Ghazi Kalif.”
Ryker slams the roll up door shut on the back of the Mogle and locks it, the steps retreating back under the truck. He returns his gear to the small bag, takes it out of the cab, and then locks the truck. “Let’s go,” he says to Ronnie. “I’m beat.”
***
“Would you have really shot them?” Ronnie asks quietly as the door to their suite clicks shut behind them.
“Not the woman and child, no. Not unless they tried to escape or something. But I didn’t want Kadar to know that,” Ryker says as she melts into his arms.
She can feel her eyes go wide at the qualification. “You would have shot them if they tried to escape?”
“Ronnie…” he says softly. “This has to be a clean operation. If they escaped and warned this Kalif guy, we may never find the virus. I wouldn’t have shot them unless I had no other option, but the stakes are too high for me to take that chance.”
Ronnie knows that’s true, but it is still hard for her to hear. “What will the CIA do to them?”
“Probably nothing. They have leverage with Kadar’s wife and daughter. They will pump him for everything he knows and then probably let them go after we recover the virus. Or are far enough up the chain. But, like Baltasar, they will have their hooks into him. Remember what Baltasar’s interrogator said: ‘there are many types of freedom.’”
She nods her head in understanding, her eyes getting heavy. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but can we go to bed and just sleep?”
“Thank God! I’m not sure I’m up for anything more,” he chuckles.
She smiles. If she weren’t so damn sleepy she might try him, just to see if she can get him up for it. With that thought, she pulls herself from his embrace and begins to shuck her clothes as he follows suit. Even though she had a slight head start, Ryker finishes first and tumbles into the bed, Ronnie right behind him. They can brush their teeth in the morning.
Snuggling in tight, Ronnie rolls over so Ryker can spoon up behind her, his knees tucking in behind hers, his chest snug in her back, his arms around her cupping a breast held gently in each hand. As she begins to fade into sleep she can feel Ryker’s hardness pressing tightly against her ass. “Show off,” she mumbles as she slips into darkness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ronnie swims up out of the darkness of sleep, reaching behind her for Ryker. He isn’t there and her hand lands on something that crackles and feels slightly squishy. Sitting up, blinking in the bright gloom of the room, she looks at the bedside clock, its dull red numbers displaying 10:56. The late-morning sun makes her blink against the brightness, even though the drapes are pulled tightly shut. She sniffs and snacks her lips, blinking herself awake, as she looks to see what her hand touched. Lying on the bed, propped on his pillow, is a large bouquet of fresh cut flowers, wrapped in a crinkly plastic like paper and tied with a bow. She smiles and looks around the room again. “Ryker?” she calls, but no one answers. Rubbing at her face with one hand as she stretches and yawns. She listens for the shower, but the room is quiet.
She stumbles to her feet, noticing that their clothes are missing from the floor, and enters the bathroom, scratching at herself. Where could he be?
She is still brushing her teeth with she hears the door unlock and Ryker enters, a bag in one hand and a carton of something in the other. As the smell of food reaches her, she realizes she is ravenous. And no wonder! It has been nearly twenty-four hours since she had last eaten. She hears the thumps and bumps of Ryker setting the food down before he appears behind her.
“It’s about time you got up,” he teases, holding her from behind and kissing her on the neck.
She spits and rinses before turning in his arms for a proper good morning kiss. “What time did you get up?” she asks as their lips part. Ryker is showered, shaved, and neatly dressed.
“About nine.”
“Why didn’t you get me up?”
“I thought I would let you sleep. It was a long day yesterday.”
“Yes it was. But I took a nap yesterday and you didn’t.”
Ryker shrugs. “You’re up now. I brought lunch. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Yeah, me too. I could definitely eat something,” Ronnie says with a meaningful grin.
Ryker returns her grin and wags his finger at her, remembering the last time she said something like that they made love for the first time that night.
“What did you bring us to eat?”
“I know you like man’oushe so I got that. I didn’t want to experiment too much without you being there. I also have some fresh juice, yogurt, and a dessert for you to try.”
“It smells wonderful. Come on,” Ronnie says, pulling out of Ryker’s loose embrace, following her nose to the food. She is still as nude as she was when she got up, but she doesn’t care. Food, shower, and then dressing, in that order.
While Ryker pour the pineapple juice in plastic glasses, Ronnie rummages in the food bags, pulls out two man’oushes, unrolls them, and spreads a dollop of yogurt on one, holding the container up in a silent question.
“Please,” Ryker says, pulling the muhallabieh out of another bag.
Ronnie rolls her man’oushe up and, taking one of the glasses, moves to the bed, sitting down and propping against the headboard, placing her glass on the nightstand beside the bed.
“The bed instead of the table?” Ryker asks.
Ronnie waves dismissively. “My laptop is in the way.”
Ryker shrugs and slips his shoes off before joining her on the bed. The man’oushe have had a chance to cool on the walk back and they begin to plow through them.
“Ah! I’m making a mess!” Ronnie says, looking at a drip of yogurt on her right breast.
“I got it,” Ryker says, wiping the glob off with a finger, popping it into this mouth before leaning over and licking her skin to clean the area.
Ronnie freezes, the sheer eroticism of having Ryker lick food off of her skin making her nearly instantly wet. As she takes another slow bite of her man’oushe she can feel her thoughts whirling, going to places she never considered before.
“You ready for your muhallabieh?” Ryker asks, rising from the bed as Ronnie pops the last of her meal into her mouth.
“My what?”
“Muhallabieh. Don’t tell me you have never had muhallabieh either?” Ryker says with a grin.
Ronnie grins. “No… can’t say I have. What is it?”
“It’s like a rice pudding.” Ronnie makes a face as Ryker brings her container to her. “Don’t scrunch up your nose until you at least try it. This is lemon,” he says as he sits down on the edge of the bed, placing one container on the side table, and offering a spoonful to her from the other.
Ronnie opens her mouth and accepts the morsel from Ryker.
“Wow! That’s good too. Makes you pucker!”
Ryker leans over and steals a kiss. “I like it when you pucker.” He switches containers. “Here, try this then. This is orange.” He says, offering her a spoon. Ronnie leans forward and takes the muhallabieh from the spoon with her lips.
“Oh my God! That’s even better!” she gushes, takes the container when Ryker offers it to her, dipping her spoon in for another bite. The muhallabieh is very creamy, like a thick custard or pudding, and as much as she hates to waste such a delectable dessert, she hasn’t been able to forget Ryker licking her clean. She dips her spoon in again, this time offering it to Ryker. As soon as she pulls the spoon from his lips she follows with her mouth, forcing her tongue between his lips, the lingering taste of the orange and lemon muhallabieh in his mouth.
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