Her Loving Hero

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Her Loving Hero Page 7

by Caitlyn O'Leary


  “See, you know that Carly is at risk,” Emily said. “This isn’t good Chris.”

  “I didn’t say it was foolproof, but it needs to be done,” Chris relented.

  “I’m going to be fine,” Carly protested. “I just have to act as an interpreter. What could go wrong.”

  Emily felt like she might throw up. She gave Wyatt a pleading look.

  “Scott, do you think you could wrangle an invitation with your connections?” Chris asked. “There shouldn’t be any problems with so many people there, it’s not like they could do anything to Carly even if they find out she isn’t Emily, but it would be good if I wasn’t the only one watching her back.”

  “I think I could manage that,” Wyatt said slowly. He winked at Emily with a shit eating grin.

  “Are you sure Carly is related to you?” Wyatt asked Emily as soon as she hung up the phone. “I can’t imagine you ever going off half-cocked like this.”

  Wyatt unmuted his phone. “Kane, you’re free to talk now.”

  “Oh, I’ve been freely talking.” Kane said sarcastically. “I’ve been swearing up a mother-fucking storm.”

  “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to swear in front of a lady.”

  “All bets are off when I’m confronted with so much stupidity. I found out what party these numbnuts are planning on going to. He got it wrong, it’s not being thrown by any of the Omani government, this is being hosted by the Ambassador of UAE. They’ve invited all the big hitters to brag about their expansion with Oman.”

  “The country of Oman is like that girl in high school that tries to be friends with all the different cliques, jocks, goths, cheerleaders, hipsters and stoners. This could either work, or could totally blow up in their face,” Wyatt mused.

  “Do you think this party is the al-Qaeda target?” Emily asked. She sounded petrified. Wyatt grabbed hold of her hand, his thumb rubbing across the smooth flesh.

  “No. The timings off. I think the kids are onto something. The info is going to come from there. In the meantime, I need to get my ass onto a plane. I also need to find some slacks to wear.” Wyatt did a mental perusal of his closet, he was going to need something besides cargo shorts and T-Shirts to be Scott Lyle.

  “Kane, can you book my airline ticket?”

  “Already on it. Good news is, you’re going to have to fly first class, it’s the only thing available to get you there in time.”

  Wyatt thought about his credit card limit. There was no way that would work. “Kane,” he started to protest.

  “It’s already booked. You’re covered.”

  “Kane!” Wyatt growled.

  “I have a coupon.” Kane said flippantly.

  “There’s no such coupon,” Wyatt practically yelled.

  “Whoa there cowboy, I meant miles. I’ve e-mailed you the info. You’re going to have to get your ass up to LAX in six hours.”

  Wyatt looked at Emily. She looked so damned relieved, how the hell was he going to ever pay Kane back?

  Fuck it. He needed to get his ass in gear.

  “Thank you, guys, so much, but Kane I don’t want you to use your miles. I’ll pay for the ticket. I’ll pay for everything. I have money from my grandmother’s inheritance. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “Miss Hoag, like I told Wyatt, this is taken care of. Seriously, I do have miles to handle it. I wasn’t joking.”

  Kane was lying his ass off.

  Emily bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

  “He does, Emily,” Wyatt assured her. “Kane travels a lot.”

  On military transport. How in the hell did that man get to be such an impressive liar?

  Hmmmm. However, two could play this game.

  “Honey, I need you to pack a bag.”

  “Huh?”

  Be cool. Be smooth. Pretend you’re Kane McNamara. He had to get her out of this neighborhood.

  “I need you to house sit for me. I’d be more comfortable if someone were at my apartment with all my computer equipment while I was away. Normally Dex would go over and check on my place while I was gone, but he can’t because of Kenna and the baby. Can you do me this favor?”

  “Of course,” she smiled. “I would love to help you out.”

  It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

  “Thanks, I really appreciate this,” he smiled.

  7

  First class was a world unto itself. He’d been able to shower on the plane for God’s sake. By the time he got to Muscat, he was refreshed and three hours away from meeting with the goonies. He’d call them the Scooby Gang, but Aurora and her best friend Crystal already named Black Dawn the Scooby Gang. Unfortunately, it stuck, and some of the other teams had been referring to them by that name. Of course, It wasn’t as bad as Midnight Delta’s moniker which was the Love Zodiac, but nobody called Mason Gault, Captain Stubing to his face.

  Wyatt was one of the first ones off the plane, all clean with crisp clothes. He was styling, in the dark pants and fresh white dress shirt he’d bought at LAX. He could definitely play the part of Scott Lyle. All he had was his carry-on, which he needed to stash at a hotel. Kane had arranged for that too. Hopefully it wouldn’t be as expensive as the ticket.

  Miles my ass.

  The flight attendant wished him a good stay in Oman as he got off the plane. She actually called him by name.

  Unreal.

  Wyatt might have been in a hurry to leave the airport, but that didn’t stop him from being aware of his environment and he stopped up short when he saw the uber-sophisticated man leaning against one of the pillars next to the exit. He looked like something out of a men's cologne ad, with his white linen jacket, pale turquoise shirt and tan linen pants. Wyatt’s eyes narrowed, he’d bet anything that those shoes cost more than his monthly take home.

  “So, you have even more money than Aiden O’Malley, huh?” Wyatt noted as he walked up to Kane McNamara. Kane gave him an enigmatic smile then he slowly turned his wrist over so he could look at his Rolex.

  “What the hell are you playing at?” Wyatt asked.

  “My name is Duke Forrester and my family owns the company that Scott Lyle works at,” Kane said as he picked up his leather suitcase. “Come on, our car is waiting for us.”

  Probably a damn limousine. They walked out into the bright sunlight. Wyatt pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. Kane pointed to a sign with the name Forrester on it in front of a limousine.

  “That’s us.”

  “So why are you here?” Wyatt asked as soon as they were seated, and he ensured the glass partition was up.

  Kane shook his head and pointed toward the front of the car. Apparently, he didn’t feel that they were secure to talk. Wyatt nodded.

  They drove on a modern highway into the heart of downtown Muscat. As Wyatt suspected they were dropped off at Kempinski Hotel. Kane wasn’t sparing any expense.

  “Let’s go to the bar before checking in, since it’s not Ramadan we can get a drink, and we’ll be able to talk freely,” Kane said.

  Wyatt checked his watch, they had three hours before they needed to be on board the yacht. “Why are you here?” Wyatt asked again. “What did your sources tell you? Are you sanctioned?”

  “Nope. I’m off the books, same as you,” Kane answered. A waiter came over and gave them a cocktail menu. Kane ordered a single malt scotch while Wyatt ordered a beer.

  “But what did you hear? Why did you come?”

  “I about fell over when they mentioned the orphanage. I need to get my hands on that video, there are probably copies. I bet that Yemeni still has one tucked away.”

  “I don’t get it,” Wyatt said. “What orphanage?”

  “If Hamza al Libi talked about the orphanage getting blown up, it proves he’s alive. That orphanage was taken out three weeks ago in Syria. Years after he was supposed to have been dead.”

  “Holy shit,” Wyatt breathed.

  “Still doesn’t negate the fact that those kids are going to g
et their asses killed. Don’t get me wrong I’m feeling a little protective about them, even though a little part of me believes that Darwinism should win the day.”

  “Did you just say that?” Wyatt asked incredulously.

  “Sometimes people who are too stupid to live, maybe shouldn’t live,” Kane said as he took a sip of his drink.

  “Who are you?” Wyatt was having trouble wrapping his head around Kane’s words.

  Kane sat down his scotch. “Don’t listen to me, long fucking month.” Then he paused and looked out the window. “I get Chris though, that protective instinct looms large.”

  “Dude, you’re still pretty close to the edge.”

  “Look I’m also combining the higher echelon into that mix, does that help? They are basically driving clown cars. Those assholes didn’t listen to Max when he went to them with the intel that Asher and I had on Hamza al Libi as well as Saif al Fadi. They just immediately said that those two were dead. They didn’t give Max the time of day. It’s that kind of tunnel vision that gets people killed.”

  Wyatt looked closely at Kane. Past the urbane polish, Wyatt realized the man was worn around the edges. He really didn’t know a lot about Kane. Was he going to be good to go on this mission?

  “Wy, I’m up for this. I wouldn’t have shown up if I couldn’t give one hundred percent.”

  Wyatt looked at him a moment longer, then nodded. “You realize this is Emily’s little sister, right.”

  “I’ve read Emily’s file. I respect the hell out of her Wyatt. There is no way I will allow her to be hurt any more than she already has been. I’ll make sure her sister is cared for like a newborn baby.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now we have two hours before the party starts.”

  “You’re Scott Lyle, I’m Duke Forrester. I’m one of the grandsons of Deke Forrester. The company is Forrester Consulting. It's still private, and trust me, everybody and their brother is going to be sucking up.”

  “Huh?”

  “I'm friends with two of Deke’s other grandsons. There’s so many of them, that adding one more to the group is easy.”

  “Okay, we have a cover, everybody will be sucking up. Got it. Sounds good. Hopefully you’re not expecting senior members of al Qaeda to be showing up.”

  “I’m rich, not stupid,” Kane drawled.

  “Don’t forget you’re also showing signs of fatigue and cynicism.”

  Kane snorted. “You might be right.”

  “So as much as you think the kids are stupid, they’re definitely right about this party being significant. I’ve done more research,” Wyatt said. “Oman is definitely the catalyst, because they have managed to bring in all of the players in the region. Did you realize that they’ve done it to celebrate the fact that the UAE just tipped over as the fourth largest importer from Oman, beating out Thailand?”

  Kane shook his head.

  “Yep, and that’s made a lot of countries happy while pissing off a lot of others.”

  “Carly’s Arabic better be really good to keep up with what everybody will be saying,” Kane commented. “Let’s go up to our rooms. Our clothes should have been delivered by now.”

  Huh? Wyatt opened his mouth to ask Kane what the hell he was talking about, then he remembered what it was like with Aiden when he went into bad-ass millionaire mode. These guys were just weird.

  “I do hope, they got my sizes right. I hate it when my James Bond tuxedo doesn’t fit properly,” Wyatt said as he stood up.

  He was happy to see Kane’s surprised look.

  That’s right asshole, two could play this game.

  Wyatt smoothed down the front of his tuxedo once again.

  “Stop that,” Kane admonished.

  “How in the hell do they do this? I mean, I have a Sig Sauer and a Glock underneath the coat, but you can’t tell a damn thing.”

  “Hong Kong tailors are the best on the planet.” Kane grinned. “But you were the one who put me in touch with Andy. He was able to rustle up the weapons in twenty minutes. Where did you find him?” Kane asked.

  “He’s an old friend who decided that he didn’t like the structure of the military. Anytime I need something, no matter where I am in the world, I call Andy, he always knows a guy wherever the hell I’m going.”

  “That’s a good friend to have,” Kane said as he looked out the tinted window of the limousine.

  “Almost as good as one who has unlimited airline miles,” Wyatt chuckled.

  Their vehicle pulled forward another inch as it waited in line behind a Bentley, a Maybach 62 and the ugly ass Kombat T98 that was armored all to shit. It could give a tank a run for its money, but as far as Wyatt was concerned an M1 Abrams was a hell of a lot prettier.

  Kane pulled up the pictures of the Lancaster kids on his phone. “They all look alike,” he commented as he scrolled through their pictures. “I’m amazed your little Mighty Morphin Power Rangers managed to get aboard,” Kane said as he gazed up at the yacht and the security surrounding it.

  “No shit,” Wyatt agreed. He also figured he’d have to stop calling them the Goonies, Kane’s name was much better. “Are you sure our cover will hold up?”

  “Positive,” Kane said as their limousine slowed to a stop and the chauffeur jumped out to open the door for them.

  They walked to the gangplank.

  A beautiful woman in the traditional dress of Omani people politely asked for their invitation. She was flanked by two very large men in black suits.

  “We don’t have an invitation. We should be on your list. Khalid al Rhahini will have added us today. I’m Duke Forrester, this is my employee Scott Lyle.”

  She raised an elegant eyebrow, then turned to the man at her left. The obvious bodyguard turned his head to the mic at his shoulder and in less than thirty seconds a small man in an Arabic robe and headdress was at the rail calling down to Kane.

  “Duke, so good of you to come. Mademoiselle let up my friend and his employee, immediately. They are honored guests.”

  She gave a demure smile and stepped aside. Well, Kane sure knew how to arrange things. Plus, Wyatt’s tuxedo fit like it had been made for him. Khalid embraced ‘Duke’, and shook Wyatt’s hand, speaking quickly in Arabic the entire time. Wyatt had thought they would be a half hour early to the event, but with the long line of cars, they were actually an hour late. He tried not to be obvious as he searched the main deck for Carly.

  “Let me introduce you around. Don’t you have security with you?” Khalid asked.

  “No need,” Kane said.

  “You Americans, always so overconfident,” Khalid said. “That’s okay, you can share my man.” He pointed to another man in a black suit, wearing a checkered keffiyeh. It was obvious that he was armed. Wyatt glanced over the other side of the yacht and saw five smaller boats.

  “One of those is mine,” Khalid said proudly. “My father had three of them commissioned from America. They are wonderful deterrents to those Somalian bastards. Also, it was thought that the Crown Prince of Bahrain might grace us with his presence tonight, but alas, he could not attend.”

  Kane looked sideways at Wyatt and shrugged.

  "Come, come Duke, I want to introduce you around. There are many people who have been wanting to meet a representative of Forrester Consulting. I will take you downstairs to where the movers and shakers are.”

  “Scott, see what you can do about our UAE and Oman interests. I also want to know what’s going on with those Yemeni bastards,” Kane growled.

  “I’m on it,” Wyatt nodded.

  “You’re a shark. I like it. The CEO of Qatar’s largest petroleum company is downstairs. He’s going to be very happy to meet you,” Khalid smiled. Wyatt watched as the two men disappeared into the crowd. A young brunette walked up to him with a tray of champagne.

  “Would you like some Dom Perignon?” she asked. She winked. God save him from teenagers. He couldn’t tell if she was Mercedes or Petra, but either way it was a good way for them to get killed.


  “Honey, are you saying you’re free tonight? You’re not really my type, but I might make an exception. Young has it’s uses.”

  The girl lost her smile. “Aren’t you?” she hesitated when Wyatt glared at her.

  “In the meantime, do your job or I’ll find your boss.” He turned on his heel and ran into a man and woman who were grinning at him. Good, he dodged that bullet.

  “Youth these days,” the woman purred.

  “And you are?” The man asked.

  “Scott Lyle, Forrester Consulting. You?”

  “George Simmons, Synil Pharmaceuticals. We’re looking to break into Saudi via UAE. The ministry of Oman is saying they can help,” the man smiled. “What do you do for Forrester?”

  Wyatt casually scanned the crowd, trying to see hair the color of sunshine. “I do risk management.” He pulled out a card that Kane had provided. “Forrester has its hands in many different areas, but if you’re not secure, especially in this market...” Wyatt gave him a meaningful smile.

  His wife twirled her diamond necklace. “Security is very important. George will definitely be calling you.”

  Wyatt spotted her. “If you’ll excuse me. I see the Minister of Economic Development for Bahrain. I need to speak with him.” He gestured toward Carly.

  What in the hell was she wearing? Emily would have a shit fit if he saw how tight that dress was.

  As he walked toward her, the brunette walked by again, this time she was carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Excuse me,” he said.

  “Yes?” she said expectantly. “Would you like one?” She gave him a knowing look, he saw a beauty mark beside her mouth. Different girl.

  He moved up closer. “Where are your brother and sister?” he asked quietly.

  “We need to talk?” She asked excitedly.

  “Shhhhh,” he cautioned her. “Where's Chris?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

 

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