No doubt he’d been a sentry. One who might not be missed for days. She hoped.
Morgan came to the conclusion that they should have at least a few hours before anyone would check. She hoped that was all the time Karim would need to get on his feet. It would have to do.
Glancing down the trail, she noticed a switchback ahead. The path made a natural turn around a cluster of boulders. A tiny flat spot out of the winds might not be as comfortable as their earlier rest stop had been, but it would keep them sheltered until morning.
Now, how to get him there? She didn’t want to waste a lot of time. The only solution that came to her in a hurry was to lay out her sleeping bag, put Karim on it and drag him down to the switchback.
Walking the path, she kicked any small rocks or pebbles aside. Then she came back for Karim. His eyes were closed, but the grimace of pain was still apparent on his face.
She took his arm lightly. “I found a spot where we can rest for bit. But I’ll need your help reaching it.”
He tried to sit up again, but the pain drove him down with a grunt. She laid out the bag. And took a deep breath.
“This may hurt some, but can you turn on your side? I’ll help. You roll nice and easy and I’ll do the rest.”
She could see the effort it took to do as she requested written on his face. Another sympathy pain nearly doubled her over, but she knew what they had to do. She helped him roll, and, between them, they had him on his side fairly quickly. Then came the hard part. Taking off his pack. The damn thing weighed almost as much as she did.
Lots of huffing and puffing later, Karim was finally free of the pack, his water containment system and the heavily damaged vest, and now he was lying quietly on her sleeping bag. She picked up the tufted edges of the bag and tugged. Nothing. It took her longer to get the bag moving down the path than any of the rest of it had taken. But after making the first advancement, she let gravity assist in the rest.
At last, after a lot of hard breathing and massive sweating in the dropping temperatures, she had him cocooned inside the natural-rock wind barrier. She dropped down on her knees to whisper to him.
“We’re safe for a while. Can you rest?”
“Amazing… You did it.” He started to shake. “Cold.”
She put her hand on his forehead. He was feverish, but didn’t seem to be burning up. She used his bedroll as a blanket.
“How are you going to stay warm?” he asked weakly.
She watched him fight to ease into a more comfortable position and still be able to see her face.
“I’ll be fine.” She planned to stay awake, watching over him. In the event he had internal injuries, she would find a way to abort the mission. Get him to civilization by some means.
“As long as we’re not moving, need to share our body heat. Below freezing before sunup. Com… Come over here.”
A knot of panic, twisted by worry over him, rolled in her stomach and threatened to take her over an edge. But he was right about needing body heat. They’d learned that lesson in desert survival school. She would have to push her old terror aside.
Moving carefully, Morgan slid in behind him as he lay on his side. Karim’s big body shivered as she pressed close.
“Closer,” he murmured. “We need the warmth.”
She almost smacked his arm before remembering his condition. “Are you sure you’re hurt?”
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. “My choice would be the other way around. Me spooning you. But my ribs still hurt like the devil.”
She flattened against him and hugged as close as she dared. “Okay?”
“Better. Warmer. But talk to me. Keep me awake.”
“You need sleep to heal.”
“Not yet. If I start coughing, I want to make sure there’s no blood.”
Oh, man. If he did start coughing, she figured the pain from the bruising would be excruciating. But coughing up blood would be so much worse. That could mean internal injuries. A collapsed lung. Or who knew what disaster.
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Not the…kiss. Not yet.”
“Yeah. I’m with you there. So how about telling me why you came on this mission?”
Karim had never in his wildest imagination thought he’d be attracted to a hard-as-nails woman. But damned if Morgan Bell, with her willowy frame and nerves of steel, wasn’t the sexiest woman he’d ever met. When he’d been a boy, before his father died and his mother had committed suicide, he remembered her as possessing the same bottomless patience and underlying strength as he now recognized in Morgan.
But he didn’t think of his mother when he saw Morgan. Not in the least.
“I came on the mission because my family needed me.” Only partially the truth. He hoped she wouldn’t ask more.
“Not good enough.”
There. See? The woman could read his mind.
“Back in survival training I got the feeling you hadn’t been on many missions,” she added. “Why this one?”
He felt her breath, warm and sensual, on his neck. Her breasts were flattened against his back. The aching bruise on his chest all but disappeared from his thoughts, but he refused to dwell on the erotic impulses that had taken over in its place.
“This might not be the best time to tell you,” he began with some trepidation. “But I’ve been training for over a year for a mission. This one was just the first that came up. Field operations are not my regular work.”
“I sort of knew that without having to be told.” She snuggled closer and wrapped her loose arm around his. “I would be willing to wager your regular work has something to do with technical stuff.”
“Yes, well, you’re right. But I was absolutely ready for this assignment. I won’t let you down.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment.”
She sounded convinced, but he couldn’t see her expression—her eyes. He wanted to explain why it mattered. He wouldn’t be divulging anything too personal, but she needed to understand his devotion to the job.
“Do you know anything about the situation that started this journey? About the child that was taken?”
“My mission is to kill the target. I’m not sure I need…”
“Did it bother you, being forced to kill that Taj sniper on the trail?” He wasn’t sure why the question had popped out suddenly. “Are you okay with having to take the shot?”
“I’m all right,” she whispered after a few moments. “Killing from a distance is my job. I’ve found it doesn’t help anything if I think too much.”
“Do you like your work?” He wouldn’t question the morality of the occupation, choosing to believe she didn’t kill for fun or profit.
“I’m good at it. But no, I don’t really like my work. In fact, this will be my last mission. I’m quitting. I’m only here as a favor to your cousin Tarik.”
He would’ve liked to ask what she planned to do next in life. What did hired killers do after they stopped? But he wanted to see her face for such a conversation. And as much as he was turned on by having her snugged up against his back, this was not the time for wistful, face-to-face talks of a future.
Gritting his teeth in an effort to erase the idea of flipping over and kissing her senseless, he thought instead about the mission. “I’m here because of that little boy—Matin. Neither he nor his parents did anything to deserve what happened. They just became pawns in some nasty, political game the Taj Zabbar are playing.”
“His parents were killed?”
“It started a while back when my cousins captured one of the Taj elders. Tarik and the CIA have been trying to make the elder tell what he knows about the tribe’s nuclear plans. In the meantime, the Taj have been threatening to make trouble if the elder is not immediately released, but we thought it was of no concern. We thought we’d taken precautions. That we were safe.
“Then the Taj sent agents to storm an apartment in Turkey where several Kadir families were living.” Karim h
ad to stop, swallow, to go on. “Matin’s mother and father resisted, killing one of the Taj agents. But they died before they could save their son. Little Matin has been in the hands of the elder Nabil Talal for nearly a month now.”
That was another mental image Karim could’ve done without. Nabil Talal was widely recognized as a madman.
“I take it they are asking for a trade.” Morgan’s voice was gruff, determined. “Do we know for certain the boy is still alive?”
“We’ve had clandestine agents inside Zabbarán for years. They tell us the boy’s alive and located in one of Talal’s fortresses, staying with the elder’s mother.”
“How are you feeling now? Is the pain any better?”
“Much better. Do you want to start moving again? I think I can make it.” He wouldn’t know for sure how bad his ribs hurt until he tried to stand.
“Not yet. Let’s stay warm for another hour or two. Keep talking. I want to make new plans on our revised schedule.”
Karim wasn’t sure he had ever heard anyone so…set on killing. But it didn’t keep him from wanting to kiss her. To take her in his arms and soothe out the frown lines he guessed were forming on her forehead.
He had wanted adventure. Wanted to find a better way to even the score with the Taj. Wanted to be a risk taker for a change. But Morgan Bell might be one risk he hadn’t taken into account.
Chapter 5
Morgan blinked the sleep out of her eyes, chagrined that she’d actually fallen asleep when she’d wanted to keep watch over Karim. Worse yet, deep gray light was already filtering in through crevices and fissures in the craggy rocks. It was nearly dawn.
She rolled, reaching for Karim. Only to find that his side of the bedroll was empty. Sitting straight up and checking around, she found him standing nearby. Through her half-lidded, still-drowsy eyes, she watched him grimacing as he hunched his shoulders enough to slip into what was left of the water-containment system. Last night’s shot had taken out the center bladder of the system, but plenty of water remained in the other two compartments.
Her shoulders ached with wanting to assist him in his efforts. The physical pain, suddenly so strong and clear in her own body, pulled her up short. Air hitched in her throat as a full realization of what had been happening to her finally hit. This was empathy. True empathy for another’s pain, deep enough and strong enough to make her body miserable.
Real, raw emotion. She hadn’t felt anything like it in so many years, she’d almost given up hope of ever finding it again.
Why now? Why him?
True, there was a lot to like about Karim. His dark, swarthy looks. That single dimple in his chin. The richness of his voice. His flash of humor, along with the sharp, sensual lust that often lit his penetrating, midnight eyes.
More than all that. Something about his need to protect. To save. It tore at her normal reserve and desire for isolation. Here was a man with no wish to harm. None. Yes, she believed he would stand up for what was right. Take a life but only when pushed to the brink. And then only to save an innocent.
In her eyes, he was more than a little appealing. But, through it all, she still saw his blinding need for adrenaline and the demand building behind those sexy eyes to fling caution to the wind and jump into the flames. Like he’d jumped out of the helicopter and into a sandstorm. It was an interesting phenomenon when directed at her. Otherwise, the whole idea scared her to death.
Her life needed to be controlled. Planned out. He represented the exact opposite.
“You’re finally up,” he grunted as he gingerly tapped down Velcro tabs across his chest.
“So are you.” She scrambled off the sleeping bag. “Why didn’t you wake me so I could help you with that?”
“You can help with my pack in a minute. Want something to eat before we get started?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “Water and a protein bar and I’m good.”
He moved carefully, slowly, as he dug into his backpack. The man was in pain but wouldn’t give up.
“Don’t,” she pleaded. “I can get it.”
Holding up his hand, palm facing out to make her stop, he said, “I’m not an invalid. Let me do my job.”
Stubborn. This guy was chock-full of interesting characteristics.
“I’ve been thinking about how the plans have changed,” he said through gritted teeth. “I believe there’s a way to cut a couple hours off our time. Get us closer to being on track.”
Taking the bar he offered, she tore open the wrapper. “I’m afraid to ask.”
He gave her a raised-eyebrow look. “I’m in perfect shape. A little pain can’t slow me down. And we’re better off staying close to the timetable the team originally devised.”
Swallowing past the lump of protein bar, she said, “Okay. So what do you want to do?”
“A village, maybe a couple thousand people, is about an hour’s walk from here. It’s a bit off our planned track. But if we can get there early enough, I’m betting we can find an unattended Jeep to commandeer. That’ll accomplish a couple of things.
“First…” He held up one finger. “It should throw off whoever comes looking for that gunman you shot. We won’t be traveling the regular goat trail down the mountain pass and will be a lot harder for anyone to spot.
“And second…” He grinned as he held up two fingers. “It should give us a considerable jump on getting to the meeting place.”
“Steal a Jeep? You can do that?”
He shrugged. “If it’s mechanical, I can figure it out.”
Morgan struggled with her better judgment. Did she try to rein him back in and go with a more practical plan? Or did she follow him off the virtual cliff and risk the entire mission on a maybe?
After swallowing the bar and washing it down with water, she came to a conclusion. She had wanted to change her life, hadn’t she? Well, deviating from the straight and narrow was the first big change she could make.
“All right, I’m in.” She waded up the wrapper and carefully stashed it in her pack. “How fast a pace can you set?”
“Help me with my backpack.” He hefted the pack with considerable care and handed it over for her help. “The trail is all downhill from here. How quickly can you move?”
Smiling inside, she decided against being outwardly smug while she eased the pack on his back. “Set the pace. I’ll manage to keep up somehow.”
Forty-five minutes later, Karim was wondering if he’d lost his mind. Last night’s pain was only a faint memory. His lung capacity still seemed good. But his normal high-endurance level appeared to be failing him as the two of them scrambled over granite massifs and skirted deep abysses.
He was having some trouble keeping up with Morgan. Luckily, he’d thought to stuff his climbing gloves into his pack at the last moment. Otherwise, he’d have bloodied hands from grabbing knobby rock abutments and finding finger jams for support.
At this point he’d already slipped once, catching himself with one hand against the sharp detritus on the descent path. The rope burns he’d suffered by helping Morgan rappel past a basalt outcropping too steep to descend by foot stung like fire. And he’d been forced to crab-walk down a deep, rock chimney, scraping his backpack along with his calves.
Was this his great new plan? Must be sunstroke.
“Wait.” Morgan put her hand on his arm. “Listen.”
They were within a quarter mile of the mountain village, and the everyday noises made by a population who spent most of their time outdoors should be echoing up and down the cliffs and canyons. He supposed she could’ve easily been hearing the sounds of their morning market. And of men readying for work at their stone cutting or other trades. But those normal, sunup sounds would mean it was already too late in the day for him to do any skulking around looking for unattended vehicles. So be it. He would have to think of something else.
As the first hysterical shouts reached his ears, though, he knew the muffled sounds they’d been hearing were anything but
normal. Then he heard shots fired. More shots. Then explosions. More yelling.
“What is it?” Morgan whispered with an edge of panic in her voice. “What’s happening?”
“Wait here. I’ll try to get closer and find out.”
She grabbed on to his sleeve, wouldn’t let go. “Not a chance. You’re not leaving me.”
Torn between his duty to keep her safe and his desire to complete their mission, Karim hesitated. But they had little choice. They’d come this far down the mountain. Climbing back would be impossible for Morgan with her limited knowledge of rock-climbing technique. The only way lay ahead.
The village was situated on a wide bluff, backed up against the butte, with roads going off in three directions. They’d been approaching from a northwesterly position. However, a small deviation would keep them in the cliffs above the village and away from the roads.
“All right. Let’s see if we can’t find an overlook where we can get a view down at the village without being seen.”
Morgan used her special GPS unit and pointed out the direction. He just hoped to hell that way was passable.
Within fifteen minutes, they’d found an ancient, navigable lava flow that led them right to the edge of a tall cliff. By now, the hard, brash desert sun beat down on every surface, giving little relief to whatever plant or reptile might be trying to survive in such harsh conditions.
As he wiped away a trickle of sweat, Karim looked out and noticed smoke coming from the village. Grabbing his image-stabilized, long-range binoculars from the pack, he studied the scene in the distance below them.
“Taj soldiers,” he said on a low breath. “They’re burning houses. Tearing down the market stalls. Firing on the people.”
“Their own people? Why?”
“With the Taj there’s no telling.”
She hunched her shoulders and blinked. “Let me see.”
The scene in the glasses became so bloody and vile that he hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He lowered the binoculars and shook his head softly.
Desert Knights Page 4