Desert Knights

by Conrad, Linda; Conrad, Linda

  Twenty minutes later she lay as still as stone, full concentration dedicated to the fortress in the distance. She’d been through a punishing few days, but no one would ever know it. She must be exhausted, he thought. But there was no way for him to give her aid.

  This was her mission now. Her shot. All he could do was stand by her side and think of the young life not four football fields away, awaiting rescue. A young life too precious to lose.

  He found himself dwelling on the immobile woman lying nearby with the rifle in her arms. As he thought of her, and as the minutes dragged by in the punishing sun, Karim came to a startling conclusion.

  He’d fallen in love—with a sniper.

  Morgan felt a trickle of sweat roll down her neck. A fly buzzed her nose. She did not move. Not one muscle.

  She dismissed the irritations. It had been hours. Hours in the merciless sun, her attention riveted on her target in the distance.

  As the day crept on, she’d studied the lay of the land and the wind currents and waited for Nabil’s movements. The flight of a bullet was no mystery to her. In her mind she could clearly see the physics of the trajectory.

  So Nabil was the new part of the equation. Nearly every hour on the hour, the bastard kidnapper stepped outside to one of the terraces for a cigarette. Apparently a creature of habits. And a man whose mother had no doubt declared her house off-limits to smoke.

  The arrogant son of a bitch had taken no precautions that Morgan could see. He must believe himself to be invincible. His only concession to security was in bringing the child with him outside into the sunshine. As though a baby could be an adequate shield against one of her bullets.

  Creep. Coward.

  Guardedly, she rolled her shoulders, making sure none of her muscles had gone numb from inactivity. The late-afternoon light had begun to wane. Time was not on her side.

  Setting the stock against her shoulder, she checked the sights one last time. Almost the hour for Nabil’s indulgence.

  Come on, you bastard. You are mine.

  A half hour passed. Then fifteen minutes more. She never blinked. Her throat was dry, her muscles screamed.

  Morgan felt the sizzle of tension clear to her toes as the first hint of dusk tinged the indigo sky. Then, at last, her quarry stepped into her sights.

  Her shot shattered the stillness of twilight. The job was finished.

  She felt no pride. No happiness. Only relief that in her lifetime she would never have to take such a shot again. She set aside her rifle, not sure if she ever wanted to pick it up.

  Turning, she looked for Karim in the doorway. But he wasn’t there.

  The shock of seeing an empty space where she had expected to see Karim punched her in the belly. What had happened? He’d been so determined to be her guard. So sure of himself.

  He’d told her to trust him.

  Grabbing her rifle, she headed for the stairs and some answers. By the time she reached the first floor, she knew she was alone in the house and could hear a commotion outside. Orders were being shouted out in rough voices. Then shots fired and explosions in the distance.

  Karim. Did he need her help?

  Before she thoughtlessly raced through the front door to find him, she threw a quick, careful glance out the window. In the street outside, rebels fought hand-to-hand with Taj soldiers. The whole town seemed in chaos. She turned and headed out the way she’d entered. Through the back door. But the cart was missing. Their escape route had been blocked.

  Dammit, Karim. Where are you?

  A Taj soldier suddenly appeared on horseback from around the farthest apartment wall. His steed bore down on her at a gallop, nostrils flaring. The soldier’s rifle was fixed with a bayonet and pointed at her.

  Bending on one knee, she took aim and fired. The soldier slumped, rolled and landed in a heap on the ground.

  Morgan raced toward the riderless horse, swung herself into the saddle and headed off. She no longer had her pack, but she still had her GPS unit. And she had the coordinates to the meeting place for the Kadir rescue party.

  She could make it there on her own and hoped that Karim and the child would be waiting. Unless everything that Karim had told her was a lie.

  As she rode off alone into the desert under the waning moon, Morgan experienced a couple of things she hadn’t felt in too many years to count. Fear. For Karim.

  And a single tear, dripping all her hurt and loneliness from the corner of one eye.

  Karim pressed Baby Matin’s head to his shoulder and followed the rebel leader through the burning alleyways of town. All hell had broken loose the moment that Nabil died. The rebels used their opportunity to begin a surprise attack against the Taj soldiers.

  Smoke and the smell of gunpowder soiled the air. Explosions to his left. Machine gun fire to his right.

  All Karim could think about was getting back to Morgan. He never should’ve left her. But when one of the rebels came running up the stairs to say that the baby’s rescue team had been captured, he remembered that she had said the mission was all-important. And the mission was rescuing the baby.

  His only option was to demand that the rebel messenger stay and guard Morgan while he went for the child. That had been all he could think of to do. And now if he found that the rebel had not done his job and guarded Morgan with his life, Karim would find the man and kill him himself.

  The screams of terrified citizens sifted through the horrendous noises made by the rebel leader’s AK-47 and broke into his thoughts of Morgan. The rebel sprayed bullets in an attempt to forge a path to lead them back to the apartment. This sudden rebellion was a major screwup in their original plans. Karim had a feeling Morgan would be furious when he reached her.

  He had to reach her.

  Running through throngs of panicked people, he stayed close behind the rebel leader. Finally, Karim recognized the street corner that led to the row of apartments where Morgan was waiting. He took his first real breath since he’d left.

  Until… He turned the corner and saw his worst nightmare. The whole block was on fire. Smoke steamed from every window and many of the roofs had already collapsed in on themselves.

  No!

  Still not ready to concede the worst, he ran on through heavy smoke to reach the right apartment building, clutching a crying Matin to his chest. The rebel leader stopped, held up his hand as he bent to check on a body lying in the street.

  After the rebel leader turned the body over, Karim realized the dead man was the messenger he’d left to guard Morgan. With his heart pounding a staccato beat in his chest, Karim turned to face the apartment now fully engulfed in flames.

  Nausea nearly sent him to his knees. Holding Matin in his arms, Karim was plagued by frustration. His inability to do anything about the dire situation unfolding in front of his eyes nearly sent him over an edge. He couldn’t race into the burning building to see if Morgan was still there with a baby in his care. He couldn’t use his weapon to find a witness to tell him if she’d been taken away by soldiers or—worse—if she had been executed on the spot, her body left to burn.

  “We must go.” The rebel leader put his hand on Karim’s shoulder. “You fulfilled your part of the bargain. The devil Nabil Talal is dead. I will honor my part and save the child. But we must go now.”

  Karim’s stomach rolled and his eyes burned. Could he leave here not knowing what had happened to Morgan?

  Just then Baby Matin began coughing, gasping for air as smoke clogged his nose and entered his small lungs. The mission. Morgan’s words came back to him: The mission is the most important thing.

  “All right,” he told the rebel. “Lead us out.”

  As they made their way to the desert, heading for their waiting horses and the fresh air, Karim’s eyes clouded, blurring and burning with unshed tears. This was not over for him. He would never rest, never take another easy breath until he found out what had become of Morgan.

  He hadn’t thought of himself as the type to find love. Long
ago he’d become convinced that he would forever be just a lonely tech geek with nothing but computers and machines to take the place of friends and family. That was one of the main reasons he’d decided to assuage his feelings of inadequacy and try to avenge his father’s death by imitating his brother and going into the field for missions.

  And look how well that had turned out.

  He’d left her. Lost her. After giving his word.

  The pain of his new loss, of the stinging guilt, stuck in his chest and in his throat, making him crazy. Because of his promise to Morgan, he would save the boy.

  But even if it took an army of militia armed with nuclear weapons to get him inside the country again, he would be back.

  Chapter 10

  Shaking from the cold and worried she was too late, Morgan pulled her horse up a little short of the abandoned well site where everyone was supposed to gather. Now what?

  If neither Karim nor any one of the Kadirs were here waiting for her, what could she do? She didn’t speak the language and wouldn’t know a rebel from a loyalist soldier.

  She tethered the horse at a boulder and hefted her rifle, wishing she still had her NVGs. The brilliant stars and the waning moon had gotten her across the desert. But now the goggles or perhaps a flashlight would be truly helpful.

  Tiptoeing across the sand, she inched toward the palm trees where she was sure the others should be waiting. But as she rounded a stand of date palms and looked up, she was stunned to find herself surrounded by a group of men wearing heavy, woolen scarves across their faces.

  Her heart stopped. Tremors ripped through her limbs. It was all she could do to stand tall and await her fate.

  One of the men made a demand in a language she didn’t understand. But his meaning seemed clear enough.

  She raised her hands above her head. “What do you want?”

  “Miss Morgan Bell?” The man spoke in English and his voice sounded familiar, though it was muffled by the material.

  He turned and said something to his comrades, then he removed the scarf from his face. “Do you not remember me?”

  “Sheik Kalil!” She lowered her arms and started breathing again.

  “You would do me a great favor, Miss Bell, if you would give me your weapon—temporarily, of course. The sight of a woman with a rifle worries the men.”

  Gladly. Morgan wouldn’t need this gun from here out, and she never wanted to see a sniper’s rifle again.

  She raised her arm slowly and handed it over to the sheik. “Please accept the rifle with my compliments and gratitude. I gift it to you with all my thanks.”

  The sheik nodded, then said, “You are early, Miss Bell. We await the Kadir and the Kadir child. I understand they have escaped some small trouble.”

  So, she hadn’t been too late and already missed Karim and the others. Thank God. She wanted to know what kind of trouble they’d had but could not seem ungrateful enough to question the sheik.

  “I…uh…didn’t know you were planning to help us leave the country, Sheik Kalil. I’m surprised to see you.”

  “All those who wish for freedom in the country of Zabbarán are willing to help the Kadirs. But secreting a Kadir child out of the country will not be so easy.”

  Sheik Kalil crossed his arms over his chest and slowly shook his head as he continued, “Every Taj soldier in the land is looking for this boy and the men who killed Nabil. A bounty has been issued for your heads. The rebels have called upon bedouins to assist in the effort to see your team safely away.”

  A chill ran down the back of her neck. She’d never had a bounty on her head before. And the baby? What kind of people wanted the head of an innocent child for revenge?

  This whole mission had turned to chaos. She would have a lot to say to Tarik Kadir for getting her into this mess.

  But her thoughts suddenly turned to a different Kadir, not Tarik. She wasn’t sure what she would say to Karim when he finally arrived. They would have to rely on each other to get themselves and the boy out of Zabbarán. But could she ever really trust him again?

  “Come,” Sheik Kalil said quietly. “Take water and refresh while we await your companions. It may be a long night.”

  If Karim hadn’t had Baby Matin tied in a sling at his chest, he would have fallen to the ground with relief when he first saw Morgan with the bedouins. Tongue-tied, he went to her and touched her cheek, assuring himself that she was really there. Really okay.

  “H-how…?” He couldn’t get the words out. What he wanted to say must stay locked up inside until another time when they were finally safe and alone.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” she said coldly. “Later. Right now I need to see that the baby is all right.”

  She held out her arms and waited for him to loosen the sling around his neck and turn Matin over to her care. The baby seemed grateful to be free. He nearly flew into Morgan’s arms.

  The minute she had a good hold on the child, her face—her whole body—softened. It was an amazing transformation. Like magic.

  Matin must’ve noticed it, too. With tiny, chubby fingers, he patted her cheek as he’d seen Karim do. “Mama.”

  Morgan threw a dark glance over at Karim, then riveted her attention back on the boy.

  “You’re going to be all right, Baby,” she murmured. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I give you my word.”

  She said the last with emphasis, and made Karim wonder if the comment was really meant for him. It had sounded like a rebuke.

  “If Matin doesn’t believe that, I can vouch for your word.” Emotion hitched in his voice, and he felt himself on a tenuous thread.

  He wanted badly to talk to her. To explain why he’d left her alone. To tell her that he never wanted to leave her again. But this certainly wasn’t the time or the place.

  Morgan stopped fussing over the child for the moment and put her hand on Karim’s arm. “Don’t say things like that. You don’t really know me.”

  “Yes, I do. I know you like order and stability. And I know you’re a survivor. I also know you have a tender heart underneath the cold, tough façade.” He bent, feathering a whisper-soft kiss on her lips. “I wish…” His voice utterly abandoned him.

  “Nice family picture.” Sheik Kalil came over and stood in the shadows of the moon. “But we must move. We’re on a timetable. Your arrival at the new meeting spot at the port is expected before high tide.”

  Karim gathered up Morgan and the baby and shuffled them toward a waiting Jeep. With his arm around her shoulders, he noted that she seemed fragile under her thin garments. Not at all like her usual cold-as-steel tenacity.

  As Morgan took the child and climbed into the back of the open Jeep, he shrugged out of his pack and jacket. Then he placed the heavy coat over her shoulders, wrapping it around both her and Matin, whom she held in her arms. He knew she wouldn’t give in and rest until the baby was safe. But he also saw the strain in her eyes. Her world had shifted. Her well-drawn plans had crumbled.

  And he could do nothing more for her than give her support.

  Hours later the three of them sat huddled in a fishing shack, waiting to be picked up by a trawler. Morgan sat next to him on the floor with her head resting on his shoulder. Karim had tried to get her to eat something or to take a nap, but she seemed much more concerned about the child than her own welfare.

  Earlier, she’d asked him to beg one of the rebels, who’d traveled along with them to act as their guards, to find a soft cloth for use as a diaper and some bread for the baby to eat. Now dry and warm with a full tummy, the little boy lay snoozing against her chest.

  Karim’s own chest ached with wanting to protect these two. To shelter them from any further harm and keep them safe—for good. He’d never experienced feelings like these before. All his life he’d had no one who’d depended on him. First his older brother and then his father had made sure his happy, little, isolated world was secure. He’d always had them around as protectors.

  Looking
down at the two people in his arms, Karim felt his old perceptions shattering and new ones taking their place.

  A noise broke into his thoughts as he heard the rebels talking quietly right outside the shack. It must be time to go. The trawler they were supposed to board needed the high tide to motor beyond the reef. Once they’d made it past the harbor, one of the Kadir family’s ships would be waiting to pick them up about twenty miles offshore.

  Karim looked forward to having a day or two aboard a large ship to talk to Morgan as they cruised back to safety. He felt sure he could make her see that they belonged together. Though he wasn’t positive how the two of them would make that happen in practicality. She wanted the peace and quiet of her Wyoming ranch. He couldn’t imagine leaving his Kadir cousins and their war with the Taj.

  “It’s time.” One of the rebels stuck his head in the doorway. The man had changed into the clothes of a Taj fisherman.

  Karim roused Morgan and then helped her stand without waking Matin. As they sneaked out the shack’s door, the gray-and-lavender light of dawn surprised him. He had assumed they would be using the dark to hide their escape.

  “We need to hurry,” he urged. He didn’t like the feel of the wharf, though everything nearby seemed deserted and quiet.

  Hustling to the dock, they slipped into a dinghy, and one of the rebels rowed them out the fifty yards or so to the waiting trawler. An older, wooden boat, the trawler bounced like a bobber on the incoming tide.

  When the dinghy arrived at the side of the trawler, Karim could see they would have problems boarding the vessel. A rope ladder was the only method of climbing aboard. How would Morgan make it with Matin in her arms?

  “Give me the baby,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “Go on ahead and then you can help us over the side. I’ll manage the ladder.”

  Looking up the length of the ladder and then checking over his shoulder, he was once again frustrated by not being able to do his job. They were too exposed. But they had no choice.

  One of the rebels scrambled up, over the side and into the boat first, while a second man stayed in the dinghy and held the ladder tight. Maybe everything would be all right.