Broken SEAL

by Geri Foster

  “I just want you around when this is over.”

  She cocked her head. “Really?” She slowly traced her finger down the middle of his chest. His black tee shirt was the only barrier between his warm flesh and her teasing fingers. “What do you have in mind?”

  “A future I hope.” His heart paused. Did they stand a chance at real happiness? The kind movies were made of, and books were written about? “If you’re willing.”

  “You’re still a Falcon agent,” she looked down at her glass, “and it’s a pretty dangerous job.”

  All the passion seeped out of him. Did she think she could seduce him away from his job? Get him to do things her way with a kiss and a sexy smile? He didn’t think so.

  Garrett stepped back, no longer wanting to be near her. No longer liking what he saw.

  “What?” she asked, her brows knit. “What’s wrong?”

  “You think you can charm me out of my job?”

  Her mouth tightened as she slammed her glass down. “If that’s what you think I’m doing, then we have nothing to talk about.” She spun and walked out of the room.

  Frank stepped over and put his hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t exactly the time for a lover’s quarrel.”

  Garrett moved away. He didn’t want to discuss his problems with Frank and he really didn’t want everyone in the room to know they couldn’t be having a lover’s quarrel because they weren’t lovers. They were two exes pissed at each other, love had nothing to do with it. Maybe it never had.

  Janice met Harry at his hotel room. One knock and he yanked open the door so quickly it startled her enough that she instinctively stepped back. “What the hell?” She gathered her nerve and cleared her throat. “You’re a little eager, aren’t you?”

  He waggled his dark brows. “Just anxious for the fun to begin.”

  She stayed glued to the spot next to the door. If this idiot got too handsy, she had the sense to make as quick an exit as possible. “You know the rules.” Her lips twisted into a slight smile. “First you talk, and if I don’t like what you say, I’m going back to work...without removing any of my clothes.”

  He yanked off his shirt and tie and tossed them onto a nearby chair. Then he kicked off his shoes and flopped on the bed, his hands folded behind his head. “Let’s see. What should I tell you first? How about that McCoy is raking in a fortune from a pharmaceutical company and hiding the profits in a nice, safe, untouchable offshore account?” His grin widened. “See, I’m a generous guy, that one was free.”

  She shoved up the sleeves of her jacket, hooked her purse over her shoulder and crossed her arms. “I already know that, shithead.”

  The smile faded in seconds. “What? How?”

  She shrugged, careful not to overplay her hand. “I hacked his computer. You don’t have to be Einstein to do that.”

  He sat up slowly and scratched his head. “Then exactly what is it you want to know?”

  “Everything. I want to know where he went with that briefcase full of money this morning. I want to know what he bought and what he intends to do with...whatever it was.”

  Harry’s nerve returned along with the smile. “Well, sweet cheeks, that’s going to really cost you.” He fell back on the bed and spread out his arms. “We’re going to be here all fucking day.”

  Once the trucks were loaded and ready to go, Nagi and Preston stopped for lunch at a local Pakistani restaurant. Only two hours remained before they began Preston’s plot to destroy the infidel nation, but Nagi had yet to learn what steps would be taken from beginning to end.

  Surely by now Preston should have discussed his plan in detail. Evidently, he intended to keep him in the dark until the very last minute.

  “Did you know that while we sit here enjoying our lunch, the Ambassador of Israel is on his way to the White House?” Preston enquired.

  “What?” This came as a great surprise. El Hashem hated that man with a passion. They’d been enemies since childhood. Nagi had no respect for the man who waged war against his country. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s true. President Davis is giving a big banquet tonight in his honor. He is to be given a humanitarian award for peace.” Preston’s jaw tightened. “I cannot let that happen. Feldstein must die.”

  “I agree. I hope I am the one to kill him. His army destroyed my brother’s family.” Things were beginning to make sense. No wonder El Hashem had been on such a tight schedule with no time to spare.

  “And Dr. Haley Kingston must die as well.”

  “But why?” Nagi asked? “What has she done?”

  Tearing off a piece of roti, a Pakistani bread, Preston popped it in his mouth and slowly chewed. They sat on a comfortable rug surrounded by the familiar scents of their country.

  “Nothing.”

  That confused Nagi. If she was truly an insignificant female, what purpose could her death serve? “I beg your indulgence, but why bother with the woman?”

  “I have no quarrel with her, yet still she must die. The man who loves her will suffer great pain, like Zareeb and I did.”

  Nagi shifted as he reached for his tea. “What man is that?”

  “The Falcon agent, Garrett Mann.”

  Nagi didn’t understand. “We kidnapped her to operate on El Hashem. I had no idea she was a part of all this.”

  “It wasn’t necessary for you to know.”

  “But what if we’d taken the wrong person?”

  “Then El Hashem would’ve sent you for her.”

  Suddenly, Nagi felt as if he’d been used as a pawn from the very beginning. No one had trusted him enough to reveal their plans, and yet he’d played right into their hands.

  He still knew nothing, yet he grew bolder. “You have a truckload of weapons, ten men, and a way inside the White House. Once there, do we just start shooting? Is that the plan?” If so, Nagi knew he had little time to pray to Allah.

  “I have more than that. I have two very important men already in place. The best shots money can buy. They will ensure both the President and the Ambassador are killed, and that Garrett and the doctor are captured.”

  “That’s your plan?” He couldn’t believe that something so simple could possibly work. The entire city of Washington, D.C. protected the president.

  Nagi looked at Preston’s placid expression and finally understood. The man had no intention of getting his hands dirty. Preston would sit in a secure location and wait for the Falcon agent and the doctor to be delivered to him. The rest of them would die. Including Nagi.

  “Yes, very simple.” Preston licked honey off his fingers. “I find the more difficult the plan, the easier it is for things to go wrong.”

  “Why do you hate this Garrett Mann?”

  “He murdered my mother and my sister. I told you, he shot them in the back.”

  Nagi had been there the day those women died, and he wondered if Preston knew the truth. Dare he remind him of that fateful day? Nagi lowered his head and struggled with the truth. The food soured in his mouth. Things were not as they seemed.

  Sergio went to the bar close to Jim Douglas’s gun range. It was where he and Jim made their arms deal. The same waitress, dressed in a similar skimpy outfit, came to wait on him and Drita. The rest of his men waited outside to make sure they weren’t disturbed.

  “Hello,” the bartender grinned. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

  Sergio heaved himself onto the barstool and propped his elbows on the bar. “Jim Douglas was my good friend. I heard he’d been killed. Do you know anything about that?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, obviously not wanting to get involved. “The feds just left. They had the same questions, but I had some questions of my own.”

  “And,” Sergio made sure to keep his tone friendly, “what did they tell you?”

  Her eyes widened and she leaned closer, whispering. “That a lot of people were found dead at Jim’s gun range.” She leaned away and picked up a cleaning rag and wiped at the bar.
“Well, I thought maybe one of his customers flipped out and went on a shooting rampage.”

  Drita sat next to Sergio so he had a better view of the woman’s tits. “Is that what happened?” he asked, grinning like a fool.

  “No, apparently not.” She stopped and looked at them. “Are you the police?”

  “No, like I said. Jim was a friend.” Sergio laughed. “Don’t you remember? The two of us came in a few weeks ago and had a drink.”

  She looked closer. “Oh, yeah, now I remember.”

  “Yes, I thought you would.” Sergio took a cigarette out of his pocket and flipped his Zippo. “Well, you know the kind of man he was. He didn’t talk much.”

  “No, he just did a lot of grabbing.” She gave them a weak smile. “He was always coming on to me. If you know what I mean. I mentioned it to my boss and he bought me a baseball bat.” She reached under the counter and brought out a brand-new Louisville slugger. “See?”

  Drita leaned back and decided to move closer to the door.

  “Well, he was a horny bastard, but he meant no harm,” Sergio said with a chuckle.

  “And he always tipped really good, too,” the barmaid hung her head. “I hate that he’s dead. And I don’t know why they’d would kill poor Hiram. He never hurt anyone.”

  “Who is this Hiram?”

  “Oh, he worked part-time for Jim. His daddy is pissed, said he’s looking for the son of a bitch that murdered his son.”

  “Do the police or FBI know who did all the killing? I heard there were several men murdered.”

  “Nope, not a clue. That’s why they came here looking for information, but I didn’t have anything to say.”

  “You didn’t say anything, huh?”

  “No,” she replied, giving him a sly glance.

  “But that don’t mean you don’t know anything.”

  She grinned. “Maybe.”

  Sergio knew it. The bitch had been holding out on him, but she’d been smart enough to hold out on the authorities as well. “Why didn’t you tell them what you know?”

  She folded her arms and rested them on the bar, drawing Drita closer. Her smiled widened. “You see, I ain’t real smart, but I know men. The feds don’t pay for information. But a man like Jim, I knew he had friends who would.” She lowered her gaze. “He’s just that kind of guy, you know?”

  “Tell me what you got, and I’ll decide how much it’s worth.”

  “I don’t live far from here. I heard the shooting and decided to take a little walk. As I came up on Jim’s place, I saw two men. One dressed like a terrorist and the other like a millionaire.”

  “And what were they doing?”

  “Nothing, just standing there while two other men loaded a truck full of guns, rockets, and all kinds of shit.”

  “You see who they shot?”

  “Nah, I got there after all the killing.” She straightened and crossed her arms. “I have the license plate for both the car and the truck if you’ve got enough money to pay for it.”

  Sergio glanced at Drita who shrugged. He could hurt her enough to make her talk or he could pay her for the information and walk away. Reaching in his pocket, Sergio tossed a large wad of money on the counter. “That enough?”

  Her eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. “It sure is.” She reached in her hip pocket and slid him a folded piece of paper.

  Outside, Drita murmured. “You know, boss, I could’ve made her talk for free.”

  “You just wanted to fuck her.”

  “No, I wanted to save you money.”

  Sergio laughed as his driver opened the car door for him. “I saw you grinning like an opossum in a henhouse, Drita,” Sergio said.

  “It’s a fox, boss,” the driver corrected. “Grinning like a fox in a henhouse.”

  Sergio turned on him. “Why in the fuck would a fox be in a henhouse?” He poked the guy in the chest. “And tell me, have you ever seen a fox grin?”

  The man looked at Drita who shrugged. “Never mind, he’ll never get it.”

  Janice took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. “Well, big boy, start talking.”

  Harry licked his lips. “Well, Preston McCoy isn’t his real name.”

  “I know. His name is really Amid Mohammed Ali Al Turki.”

  His face paled then reddened and his mouth fell open. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at her and continued. “There was a lot of money in the briefcase. Close to a million dollars.”

  “Go on.”

  “He has a brother who’s a terrorist.”

  “Yes, Zareeb El Hashem. They’re both considered terrorists. Who’d he buy all those weapons from?”

  He sat up and cocked his head. “You know about the weapons?”

  She hadn’t, but checking off those boxes hadn’t been much of a stretch. “Yeah, it’s beginning to look like I know more than you do.”

  Disappointment drew his mouth down and had him pouting like a toddler. “I don’t know where he bought all that shit or what he was going to use it for.”

  “Bullshit, Harry. You know damn well what he’s up to. I suggest you tell me what you have while I can still help you.”

  He laughed. “You, help me? Who are you with ATF, DEA? That ain’t shit.”

  “You ever heard of the Department of Energy, Harry?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

  “That’s who I work for. I’m a counterintelligence agent on special assignment and appointed by the President of the United States, himself. I’ve got more pull than you can ever imagine.” She stood. “Now, where were those weapons delivered and where are they now?”

  “What the fuck! I didn’t sign up for this. I ain’t saying shit to you or anyone else.”

  She took a recorder out of her purse and clicked play. Harry’s voice came over the small speaker, loud and clear. “Do you realize that if those guns hurt one American I can make sure they lock you away for the rest of your life? Now, start talking.”

  He rose off the bed and reached for his shirt. “I’m out of here.”

  “There are three agents in the hall waiting to take you into custody.” She rubbed her hands together and smiled. “Or I could scream rape real loud and they’d come in here guns blazing.”

  Harry swallowed and dropped back on the bed. “Okay, I give up. I’ll talk.” He glanced back at her and looked at her hopefully. “I don’t guess there’s any chance...”

  “No. Start talking.”

  Preston and Nagi stepped out of the restaurant and his phone immediately began to ring. Before he could pull it from his pocket, a heavy-set man walked up and two men with guns flanked them, steering them into the alley. The man behind Nagi had a gun pressed against the small of his back.

  Preston’s phone continued to ring.

  “Listen, if you’ve come to rob us, take what you want and leave.”

  “You might want to answer that,” the fat man advised. “I think it’s the guy who was driving your truck full of weapons. He probably wants to tell you that he doesn’t have them anymore.”

  “What?!” Preston screamed. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d cared about was going up in smoke. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sergio Malakoff.” He pointed to the man next to him, the one with his gun pointed at Preston’s head. “And that is Drita.”

  This Malakoff took out a cigarette and lit it. Preston noticed his little finger was missing. “I want that truck back,” Preston seethed.

  “I am a businessman and I want my money. You see, those are my guns. They’ve never been paid for and I don’t believe in charity.”

  “You want money? I’ll give you the money. I have it in a briefcase in the trunk of my car.”

  “Oh,” Malakoff rocked back on his heels. “You must mean that million dollars you were to pay Jim Douglas.”

  “Yes,” Preston exclaimed. “Take it and return the trucks, immediately.”

  “We have what i
s called, ‘big mistake,” He looked at the man with the gun, who nodded. “You killed my friend, Jim Douglas. Now you pay two million.”

  “You’re insane,” Preston shouted. “I don’t have that much money here. It’ll take time.”

  The guy took a drag off his cigarette and nodded. “I know, I understand completely. It’s a lot of money, but you can transfer it to my account in—” He glanced up at the grey sky, “What you think, Drita? Ten seconds, no?”

  “I don’t have time for this. I need those guns.”

  “And you can have them. Once I get my money.”

  “How can I make this happen?” Preston was in a complete panic. Those trucks should be at the White House by now. And here some immigrant was holding everything hostage for money. He wanted to murder the guy.

  “Follow me.” The fat man crooked a finger, then turned and headed toward the street. Once there, they shoved Preston into the back of a limo and placed a computer in his hands. “Now, transfer the money and the trucks will be on their way.”

  Preston grudgingly did as instructed since he had no choice in the matter. The man had bullied him into paying double for the weapons and he wouldn’t allow him to get away with that.

  As soon as he exacted his revenge, he’d hunt this bastard down and kill him with his own bare hands. No one treated him like a common criminal. Not even this pig.

  “Okay, now our business is complete,” Malakoff clapped, grinning like a smartass. “You are free to go.”

  “You know, you can’t get away with this.”

  “Jim made a deal with your brother, then Jim made a deal with me. I only want what was mine from the beginning.”

  “You charged me double.”

  “That’s the charge of doing business.”

  “Price,” his sidekick said. “The price of doing business.”

  Malakoff pulled out his gun and pressed it against the man’s chest. “Do that again, Drita, and it’s going to be lights on for you.”

  Preston opened the door to find Nagi waiting for him near the curb. After he got out, the two watched the limo drive away. He quickly dialed the man in charge of the trucks to see if they’d been returned.