Desert Knights

by Conrad, Linda; Conrad, Linda

  It seemed he would never forget Morgan or what they’d done. Just how she had been with him. Last night, he’d had the idea that she’d reached a goal she had never touched with anyone else. She was no virgin, but his gut told him she’d never come for any other man. Could that be possible?

  It turned out that she was the excitement he’d been trying most of his life to capture, all wrapped up in satin skin and pink panties.

  And…she was more. She meant something so much bigger, grander, but what?

  Shaking his head, he forced himself to turn away and went for the SAT phone. Too many questions about a woman he was only supposed to protect. Time was running out. If they were to rescue the boy, it had to be today. By tomorrow, his captor would be making good on his ultimatum:

  Free the Taj elder in captivity or the Kadir child would die.

  But it wasn’t good news that Karim received after reaching the team. Zabbarán had broken out in full-scale civil war. Their original plans had to be scrapped. The remaining members of the mission’s field team had not been able to find a way into the isolated desert past the many units of Taj Zabbar government soldiers. And any escape attempt by air was out. It seemed the Taj had called upon their Russian friends to supply air support and troops enough to shoot down anything that flew.

  But the Kadirs still had their friends and operatives inside Zabbarán. And Karim learned the team had devised a new strategy. He and Morgan were to continue on alone to Nabil Talal’s fortress today. But at that point, they would meet up with a group of rebels who had volunteered to help save the boy.

  After Morgan did her job, after they’d rescued the child and then escaped capture at the fortress, a Kadir field team would meet them at the nearby port city of Sadutān with a boat. If all went as planned, they would be on their way home by tomorrow.

  Karim gently shook Morgan’s shoulder. “It’s morning. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Sorry to awaken you so early but we need to get moving. Want some breakfast before we leave?”

  She sat up, stretching like a cat as she shoved her hair away from her face. Her naked body seemed to cause her no concern. But while stretching out the kinks, she made purring noises deep in her throat. Here was yet another memorable picture he wanted for all time.

  “Morning,” he said again with a hoarse rasp.

  He handed over her dry clothes and hoped she would cover up quickly. It was nearly unbearable having to watch and not reach for her.

  “Morning. I guess you’re trying to tell me it’s time to go.”

  Glad she hadn’t said anything about their night together, he went about retrieving something from his pack for her to eat. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to talk over what they’d done. But he needed time to straighten out his head.

  While he fed her one of the U.S. Army’s prepackaged MREs—Meals Ready to Eat—Karim explained the latest plan. Not long afterward, without saying a word, she went to work, checking her rifle and reassembling her backpack.

  As she worked she grew quieter. Too quiet. And every time she glanced up, it was with a cold, hard gaze that softened only when she looked his way. He didn’t have enough experience with this kind of thing, this mission to murder a madman, for him to account for why she needed the silence. But he wanted to do something to help her.

  As he tried to unscramble his own thinking, he thought of what might help give both of them the breathing room they needed. Talking about their pasts and telling each other a little about themselves could work to relax her. And it was infinitely better in his opinion than discussing either their mission or, God help him, last night.

  He would rather she did the talking, but he wasn’t sure how to get her started. So, he’d have to be the one to spill his guts. His background was a safe and rather boring topic anyway. Nothing much there to upset her or to work against him.

  “Mind if I talk while I tear down the camp and load up?” he asked to break the silence.

  She shook her head, but she kept her chin down, concentrating on checking her rifle.

  He set about cleaning and reloading his own weapons, hoping he wouldn’t need to use them again. “I don’t know what kind of family you come from…”

  Hell, that was no way to start a conversation about himself. Start over.

  “I was just thinking about my brother,” he began again. “About how he always took such good care of his weapons. He taught me to respect knives and guns and what they can do if you treat them well. I know most of what I know because of him.”

  “Where is your brother?”

  Karim should’ve known that question would come up. But the deep, aching pain in his chest when it had surprised the devil out of him.

  He couldn’t make himself say the hated words outright. Hadn’t been able to since it had happened over fifteen years earlier.

  “My brother was special,” he said instead. “Five years older than me. He was like a superhero in my limited world of books and computers. I thought he could do no wrong. A star athlete, a decent scholar and the most popular boy in school. I idolized him. I wanted to be just like him, but I could never come close.”

  “Was? You said he was special. What happened?”

  “Hakim was an adventurer. I once heard a friend of his calling him a power and speed addict behind his back. He was that, all right. Always wanting to climb the tallest mountains, lift the heaviest weights and swim farther than anyone else. His dream as a child was to fly faster than the speed of sound. Faster than anyone else.”

  Karim had to clear his throat to go on. “He went to work for a U.S. aircraft manufacturer, flight-testing new planes for the Pentagon. On one trip his test plane accidently wandered into North Korea’s territory. They shot down his craft without so much as a warning.”

  “He didn’t have an escape pod? A parachute?”

  “Yes, of course he had such things. We were never told whether he died from the crash or from a spray of bullets or in a prison camp. His body was never returned. Only his personal effects. Matters of state became too complicated.”

  Sympathy showed in Morgan’s eyes. But she said nothing. He felt her respect for his pain in her silence, and it touched him.

  In one way Karim was glad he’d told her the story of his brother. In another way, he wished he’d never started the whole thing.

  “Almost ready?” he asked as he shrugged into his pack. “We need to get going if we’re to stay on schedule.”

  She nodded, turning toward the horses. But then she hesitated, turned back and took his hand.

  “I had a great time last night, Karim. You’ve helped me stop thinking for a little while, and I’m really grateful we’re on this mission together. Thank you.”

  Speechless, he dropped her hand and led the way.

  Using the GPS and the new coordinates they’d gotten from the Kadir team, they rode through the desert in broad daylight. Karim had turned as silent as she’d been this morning. He was acting as their scout today, glancing periodically through his binoculars for any Taj soldiers. Still, he seemed awfully quiet for someone usually so eager to talk and joke. Morgan supposed both of them needed a little space with their thoughts.

  Unlike any of her past missions, this time she couldn’t concentrate on the plan, on going over every move in her head on the day of the rescue. Their plans had changed so many times, she would have to go at this one blind. Never a good idea, but something she hoped she could pull off.

  As she tried formulating a new mental picture of the moves necessary to make the shot, she discovered all she could think of was Karim. Of what they’d done—and what he’d said.

  He had given her the best night of her life. Never before had anyone been so thoughtful, so concerned about her wishes and welfare. In fact compared to the last time… Well, she’d promised herself never to think of that again.

  What she and Karim had done was as close to lovemaking as she supposed she would ever have. Certainly closer than her one other time…. Despite her admoniti
ons to the contrary, the memory came back to haunt her. That horrible night in college when she’d been forced could be called a lot of things but never lovemaking. In fact, her experience was more along the lines of what a psychologist had called date rape. Only Morgan knew it shouldn’t be called anything quite so polite.

  She hadn’t led on her date the way he later claimed. In fact, she’d been a virgin and had planned on staying that way until marriage. He, on the other hand, had secretly wanted to prove he was stronger, more athletic and had bigger muscles than the state rifle champion. And the way he went about proving it was to beat her into submission before he did whatever he pleased. In front of two of his buddies.

  “You’re not so much now. Are you, Miss All-State Champ?” he’d gloated as she’d lain there bleeding and whimpering.

  Shaking her head to rid her mind of the memories, she refused the intruding thoughts. Being able to forget that night was imperative for her survival. And what Karim had given her last night was the best memory-eraser in the world.

  She thought back on how that miracle had happened. What was so different? She thought she knew. As their mission had gone on, Karim had made her feel comfortable. Highly unusual for a woman in a profession such as hers. In fact, she’d become more than comfortable, really. He’d led her into their relationship gently and made her trust him.

  Trust.

  He gave her something so different. So incredibly different from anything she had ever known that she would have those new memories to keep her grounded for the rest of her life.

  At the thought of the rest of her life, she lifted her head to see what Karim was doing. Suddenly she could dream. And had a new reason to wish. And Karim had done all that by being the one man she could trust implicitly.

  As she watched him ride, she realized he also seemed to have grown more comfortable on this mission. At least he’d grown more comfortable astride a horse. He looked magnificent this morning, dashing through the brilliant desert sunlight. His handsome Arabian stallion galloped and pranced, but Karim kept his seat, riding as though he’d been doing it forever.

  She opened her mouth to tell him so, to give him encouragement. But then she swallowed down whatever compliment she would’ve shared. It suddenly seemed too…intimate.

  A charge of excitement surrounded Karim. If she tried to make more of their relationship and become closer than ever, he would be a constant temptation. Soon, right after their mission was complete, they would be going separate ways. He off to his wars and adrenaline rushes, and her to a new quiet life. A life she hoped would contain a home and a family.

  She now knew she would miss Karim terribly. Being around him was like stepping into a cozy, sexy tornado. It had been the most exciting time of her life. But as with any Fourth of July sparkler, her fingers could so easily be burned.

  She swung her attention back to their mission. They weren’t far off their original route. With Karim in the lead, the horses strode proudly down a small embankment and entered what the map had called a wadi: a valley with a dry river bed, graveled and surrounded by pure sand hills.

  Barren and as void of everything as any of the land they’d left behind, the valley seemed stark. Or perhaps, in its own way, this place had a ghostly beauty. Certainly, it was dramatic here. And deadly.

  As rare as water was in the Zabbarán land, water had obviously been the sculptor of this valley. She wondered if, on occasion, the water came roaring down from the mountains to flood the plain.

  Probably. Their survival training had taught her that flash floods were a distinct possibility in any dry river bed. But not today. The sun shone against the rocks, making them sparkle like diamonds.

  Her survival trainers had also cautioned that wadis tended to have subsurface water, making them associated with centers of human population in the desert. And she knew this one did just that. According to their map, this wadi led to the tiny village situated right below Nabil Talal’s fortress.

  They were on the last leg of their journey.

  For no reason, the hair on her arms stood straight out. Once again, someone was watching. Searching the area ahead, Morgan spotted a flash of light reflected off a glass in the sunshine. A rifle or a pair of binoculars?

  Not again. The last time Karim spotted such a sign it had not ended well. Not at all.

  Chapter 9

  “Karim, look!”

  He heard the edge of panic in Morgan’s voice, but there wasn’t much he could do to soothe her fears. “I see it.”

  In fact, he’d been noticing many signs of their unseen watchers from almost the first moment they’d entered the wadi. “They can’t be Taj soldiers. Must be the rebels.”

  Taj soldiers would’ve killed them or taken them captive on sight.

  “I thought…”

  A handful of horsemen appeared over the sand ridge at that moment and started downhill, heading in their direction. Karim halted his horse and indicated that Morgan should do the same with hers.

  “You thought we were supposed to meet them right outside of the town at the date palm grove?” He deliberately kept his tone cool to keep her calm. “Yeah, we were. But it looks like they’re early.”

  Morgan took a deep breath, though she remained silent. He wished… But it was too late to talk to her or give her last-minute instructions that might save her life. He had no alternative now except to stay in the saddle and hope that these rebels were the ones they were supposed to meet.

  The man on the lead horse came to a halt beside him. “You are the Kadir?” he asked in Taj. The fellow had spit out the words as though disgusted by the idea, and Karim hoped to hell these guys were friendly.

  “Yes. Karim Kadir. And…”

  “You will come with us.” The rebel cut him off before he could mention Morgan’s name. “Nabil Talal has his troops hidden along the wadi, expecting a rescue attempt of the child. But he is too confident in his forces. We know of a way.”

  Karim turned and translated for Morgan. She nodded her understanding and acceptance. Then she worked to bring her uneasy horse under control and fall into line with the rebels’ horses.

  Following the armed rebels, they made their way across the desert until they entered a ravine. One of the rebels rode along the top of the ridge as a sentry, while the rest of them followed the rebel leader into the deep, narrow gorge.

  Karim noticed Morgan checking her GPS and saw the worry lines grow across her forehead. He could tell by instinct and the position of the sun that they weren’t heading in the direction of Nabil’s fortress. Still, they’d run out of options.

  When they rode up out of the ravine, they found themselves at the edge of another oasis. The rebel leader indicated they should make no sound. He dismounted and nodded that they were to do the same.

  Once off his horse, Karim discovered what the rebels had in mind. A veiled woman driver and her horse-drawn cart filled with hay awaited them behind the tall reeds. He and Morgan climbed in the back of the cart and soon they and their packs were covered with straw.

  Karim worried for a second that he might sneeze, but the urge passed as the cart began moving. It was a long, uncomfortable trip, and he wished he could’ve made it easier on Morgan somehow.

  After the cart came to a stop, the woman shoved the straw away and motioned for them to climb out. They stood on flat ground behind a row of ancient-looking, two-story apartments. A couple of the rebels stood watch as they went inside.

  “Where are we?” Karim asked the rebel leader once they’d entered the tiny hovel.

  “The house of a friend. Follow me.”

  Following the man, they climbed a narrow set of dark stairs until he shoved at a wooden door. The door creaked open to a space almost too small for Karim to worm through. Then another door opened to the outside.

  Karim led the way out onto an empty, flat roof. When he and Morgan looked around, they were surrounded by dozens of rooftops. All empty, save for a few with laundry hanging on makeshift lines and bl
owing in the breezes.

  In the distance, maybe three or four hundred yards away, a castle loomed, situated on a terraced hillside. He spotted lots of rooms and turrets and balconies from this angle. On a second look, Karim decided the place resembled an expensive villa rather than a fortress. A well-fortified villa.

  Turning to Morgan, he said, “The shot is too far.”

  She put her hand on his arm and spoke for the first time since they’d met the rebels. “No. It’ll be fine.” Her face was a mask, filled with resolute calm again. “I need more information on Nabil’s movements.”

  Karim translated while Morgan asked some pertinent questions. Then it was his turn. He interrogated the rebel to see if there were trusted men who could rescue the child while Karim stayed behind to watch over Morgan. He refused to leave her on her own. And he didn’t trust anyone else to be her bodyguard. The rebel leader agreed he would have a small unit stationed nearby to pull the boy out of the fortress after Nabil was dead. It seemed the rebels were willing to risk all for the death of their nemesis.

  Karim made final arrangements with the rebel for their escape from town. When he felt as sure about the new plans as he could, he explained everything to Morgan.

  “Why don’t you go for the boy?” she asked.

  Shaking his head, he whispered, “I intend to be here to watch your back so you can feel free to concentrate on the shot. Don’t worry. It’ll work out. Trust me.”

  Her eyes lit up with a smile, though her lips never even twitched. “All right, then. The mission is the most important thing. Clear everyone off the roof. I don’t want any undue attention drawn to what’s happening up here.”

  The rebels set up a seemingly innocent-looking blind for Morgan before they went back down the stairs. At last alone with her, Karim stood half in and half out of the doorway, watching as she arranged herself underneath a tangle of laundry hanging on a line above her prone body.