The Princess And The Mercenary

by Victoria Paige

  Yara gave him a confused look.

  “From Denton.”

  “But he never sent me anything.”

  Kade’s eyes shifted to her backpack. “Argue later. We’re wasting time.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He ignored her and walked to her closet, pulled out an abaya and a colorful turquoise and orange headscarf.

  “Shit,” Kade muttered. “Too colorful.”

  “Uh, how did those get in there?” Yara asked, then realization crashed through. “You have someone on the inside?”

  “Lower your voice before I gag you,” he warned. He picked up her backpack and checked its contents. “Pack some underwear. We’ll find you more clothes later.”

  “Stop ordering me around!”

  “Quiet! How many times …” He shook his head and growled, “You’ve got thirty seconds to pack your underwear, otherwise you’ll be stuck wearing what you have on.” His mouth twisted. “Indefinitely.”

  Outraged, but appalled that she could be wearing the same panties for however long this asshole had in mind, she rummaged through her suitcase and packed undies enough for a week.

  When she turned back to Kade, he was opening her bedroom window. “Come on.”

  “We’re climbing out the window?” She eyed the darkness outside.

  “I’ve got a vehicle waiting for us.”

  “How did you even get inside the compound?”

  Impatience scored his features. “I’ll explain later.”

  She moved toward the window and stopped. “I’m not going.” Her eyes lifted to his. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  A flash of sadness crossed his face. “You don’t.”

  “I’m not abandoning my people.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” He advanced on her. Alarmed, she turned and dashed to the door.

  A band of steel caught her around the waist before another arm wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Unable to scream and immobilized, black specks dotted her vision. A sting pierced her neck before everything receded into darkness.

  17

  Why did she have to fight him on this? Kade hated applying that choke hold and then shooting her with a tranquilizer. Things would have gone easier if she’d come on her own. Now she’d be adding kidnapping to the list of his transgressions.

  “Need help?”

  Kade scowled at John Garrison who had his arms crossed casually over the ledge of the open window.

  “She was a bit stubborn.”

  Garrison’s brow shot up. “A bit?”

  “I should have known better and knocked her over the head when I had the chance.” He handed her to the CIA handler, also known as Stryker. “How much time have I got?”

  “Twenty minutes tops. I told the guard to put Nasir’s men in the building farthest from this one. There’s an influx of people coming and going out the compound, but once the UN meeting starts, it’ll be more conspicuous to leave.” Garrison paused. “Jeff Kennedy will look for her, and Nasir’s men will get suspicious. The sooner you get her out of here, the better.”

  “Yeah.” He climbed out the window. Garrison had killed the lights in between the two buildings and Yara’s window was facing a solid wall of another bungalow-type housing. He took Yara back from Garrison and they walked over to a white Land Cruiser parked adjacent along that wall.

  “It would’ve been better if she were sitting upright,” Garrison said. “But we can lay her in the back seat and cover her with tarps.”

  Kade made a disgruntled sound.

  “Hey, you’re the one who knocked her out.”

  “You’ve worked out your excuse for her disappearance?”

  “Best they can do is fire me, right?” Garrison flashed a grin in the dark. Kade shook his head as his handler—who may not be his handler any longer—opened the door. Alliances were on shaky ground and if Garrison double-crossed Kade, there was nothing he could do but work on his defense. His arms tightened around the bundle in his arms before he reluctantly laid her out in the back seat of the SUV. He and Garrison briefly discussed their next move and Kade’s exit strategy.

  “You’re carrying a cooler of vaccines. Drive casual and you’ll be fine. There’s enough chaos going around that they’ll ignore you. Hand the clipboard to the guard at the gate to double-check. I have a man outside of the warehouse waiting with an SUV you’ll swap this one with.” Garrison blew out a breath and handed him a memory stick. “It’s encrypted. Look at it when you can. Good luck.”

  “Not sure I trust you.” Kade pulled open the driver’s side door.

  “You shouldn’t,” Garrison replied. “Use your gut, Spear. You can trust that. I may have no choice but to hunt you down. Lines are blurred and the agency is scrambling to fix this clusterfuck. Keep your head down and if you have a chance to get out of Yemen, do it.”

  As long as it’s not into Saudi Arabia, he thought.

  Kade switched off the headlights and pulled up behind a beat-up SUV parked near the fifteen-foot iron-link fence surrounding the UN warehouse. There was no one in sight. The back of his nape prickled. If this was a trap, he would make it his mission to hunt down John Garrison for the rest of his life.

  A figure emerged from the shadows of the tree line a couple of yards from the fence. He recognized Bob, the fixer.

  Kade instinctively checked his Sig at his side.

  Trusting no one but himself right now sucked. Used to having his brothers at his back—he stopped his train of thought—he would think about the fallout later.

  He stepped out and they approached each other cautiously, stopping beside the old vehicle.

  “Bob.”

  “Boss.”

  Through the dim light and not seeing each other’s eyes, suspicion clotted the air between them.

  “Surprised Garrison called you.”

  “I’m the fixer … besides, I like you more than the other guy.”

  The other guy being Max.

  Kade chuckled briefly. “What’ve you got for me?”

  “Nissan Patrol. It looks like a clunker, but runs well. Air-conditioning is flaky but you don’t need it at this time of the year. Burner phones—my number and Garrison’s are programmed. Cash. I’ve got you a place to stay at Maqbalah sixty-four klicks from here. All paid for a week. Again, not much, but it’s the best I can do.” Bob nodded at the Land Cruiser. “Hope your lady has no problem slumming it.”

  “She’s not my lady.”

  “Righhhht.” Bob held out the keys. “Duffle in the back seat. Map on the burner.”

  “Got it.” He handed the fixer the keys to the Land Cruiser and they both walked back to it. Kade scooped Yara into his arms and let Bob carry her backpack and his own duffel that Garrison transferred from the vehicle Kade used to get into the UN compound. He nodded for Bob to go ahead of him, not quite trusting the other man with his back. This time, Kade arranged Yara on the front passenger seat while the fixer handed Kade the bags.

  “Good luck, boss.”

  Everyone seemed to be wishing him luck.

  Guess he needed it.

  Kade arrived in Maqbalah before ten that evening. Worrying about Yara and the effects of the tranquilizer messed with his navigation skills and he got lost in the mountains of Taiz for more than two hours. The winding roads crossed and diverged, and the signs were in Arabic which he spoke better than read.

  Bob didn’t exactly give him an address, satellite was spotty, and Kade had to memorize the right and left turns once they got off the main road. The Nissan Patrol traveled over dirt roads and passed several buildings set on the slope of a hill. Houses in Yemen were traditionally built with mud-bricks and stone foundations. They were squarish box buildings. It was typical to add floors as the family expanded. His headlights shone over a red retaining wall, and he followed Bob’s instructions to make a right. He counted three houses on the right, before he made another right turn, this time into the courtyard of a modest-looking two-story mud home.
An outdoor lamp illuminated the front of the house. A man in traditional robes and a wrap around his head sat on a wooden chair, chewing khat—Yemeni’s answer to alcohol and an alternative to coffee.

  When Kade parked the Patrol, the man stood and approached the vehicle. The creased lines on the man’s face, illuminated by the vehicle’s lights, put his age in the high sixties although life in Yemen could be harsh and aged people prematurely.

  He killed the headlights but left the SUV running. Rolling down the window, Kade cursed when it got stuck midway down and helped it along with the palm of his hand.

  The man walked to the driver’s side and pointed to himself and said, “Abdul. You Spear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Follow.”

  Abdul walked toward the house in halting steps, a stiffness in his gait. Kade glanced at Yara, and exhaled a deep breath wondering what the fuck he was doing with her and second-guessing his decision to keep her safe.

  Their host paused at the door and looked back. “Come. Come.”

  “Fuck,” Kade muttered as he rolled up the window and turned off the engine.

  Abdul put them up in a room on the first floor. He did not miss the strategic location of the room. It was to the back of the house. There was only one window in the room and it was barred. There was an inner steel door and an outer hardwood one. Abdul had him move the vehicle to the back where there was a road leading down the hill … an escape route. He’d need to recon the area in the morning.

  There was another room and a bathroom on the same hallway. Abdul’s living area was on the second floor. The front of the house also had a double door.

  If the old man thought it suspicious that he brought an unconscious woman into the house, he didn’t say anything.

  Kade tucked Yara under the covers and crouched beside her. In spite of their situation and his conflict earlier, relief shrouded him. He got her back, albeit against her will. He’d work on convincing her that she was safer with him when she awoke.

  The angst of being separated from her lessened. It was too soon to analyze what he felt for her, but there was one thing of which he was certain, she wasn’t simply an unfinished duty. There was something between them to be explored, but he had several obstacles to overcome.

  First, she needed to trust him.

  Kade rose from his crouch and moved to the lone window in the room. Lights from the houses on the slope of the mountains dotted the dark hills like stars in the night. His thoughts drifted back to the clusterfuck on the evening they arrived in Yemen.

  Kade, Bob, and Max arrived at Aden’s container terminal. The Gulf of Aden was a sea of blackness while the lights from the crane reflected on the water and illuminated the stacks of blue and red crates in the port. Ships docked side by side; the whirring sounds of machinery drowned the night with their activity.

  Unknown to Yara, Kade had received a text from General Boustari to meet at the port. At the gate, they were immediately waved through and given a warehouse number in which to meet the general. Bob said their shipment was being expedited through customs.

  “Garrison’s not answering his phone,” Kade muttered in frustration. Usually the CIA handler was quick to respond. Kade had not heard from him since before they left Ankara. “No messages either.”

  “That’s why Boustari called you,” Max concluded. “Damn that Garrison. Fine time for him to disappear.”

  When they reached Warehouse 7, two military Humvees were parked in front of the structure. Six guards stood at its entrance.

  “Don’t have a good feeling about this,” Bob said.

  “They need us,” Kade said. “Everyone keep their cool.”

  “Not gonna be me who’ll blow a gasket,” Max quipped. “I’m not the ornery one.”

  Kade chuckled despite the ball of tension that formed in his gut and it wasn’t about Boustari’s soldiers. It was about what Saudi Intelligence would find in those crates. When Kade received word from Boustari, he’d immediately told Brody to head back to the private hangar where their plane was parked and to make sure it was refueled and ready. He also gave Roarke a heads-up that they were about to meet with the general.

  They exited the vehicle and one of the soldiers motioned them to stop. “Approach slowly. Hands up.”

  “We’re not criminals,” Kade answered. “We’re here to meet Boustari.”

  “I know, but you cannot meet the general while armed.”

  “Then we have a problem.”

  “Maybe we should do as we’re told,” Max suggested. “Didn’t you say he needed us.”

  A mustachioed man wearing a crisp khaki uniform with shoulder emblems and a row of medals on his chest strode out of the warehouse, a dark beret sat on his head. Kade would’ve recognized the man anywhere because he bore an uncanny resemblance to a thinner version of Saddam Hussein.

  “That’s all right. They’re our allies,” General Boustari boomed at his man. Leveling his eyes at them, he said, “Welcome, Mr. Spear, Mr. Stein.” His eyes narrowed at Bob. “And you are?”

  “Anton Malek, their guide and interpreter,” Bob lied.

  The general didn’t look pleased but shook it off. “They’re scanning the crates now.” He smiled at them. “Please, come in. We’ll soon have what we need.”

  Hours later, the joviality on the general’s face was nowhere in sight. Eight crates stood with their doors open, the Saudi inspectors found nothing hinting of nerve gas or chemical agents on their scanners.

  Kade tore off his respirator mask he’d been offered to wear. The general had the hooded version and yanked it off his head and bounced it on the floor.

  “This is not possible!” the general roared in a stream of Arabic. “Where are the chemical weapons. Try again.”

  “But General,” the inspector squeaked. “I …”

  The poor man didn’t finish his sentence because the general drew his gun and pointed it at his head. “Try. Again.”

  Kade and Max exchanged glances. Both of them understood Arabic.

  Another hour passed, and the three inspectors hung their heads and repeated the same findings.

  No chemical weapons.

  A soldier warily approached Boustari, holding a piece of paper and presenting it to him.

  General Boustari’s face mottled red and, for a minute, Kade thought he was going to execute the man who appeared to have brought him bad news.

  The general spun on them instead and jabbed a finger at Kade. “We’re missing a crate. It says nine here.”

  “What?” Kade growled, grabbing the paper manifest. Sure enough. It said nine. “Our manifest came direct from ERAF. The one you have in your hand comes from the shipping line … obviously their mistake.”

  “Or they’ve already picked up the crate with the weapons,” Boustari declared. He directed his soldiers to interview the ship’s crew and the dock workers. Turning to Kade, he said,“I want to talk to Miss Emerson tomorrow.”

  “No.”

  If smoke could’ve come out of the general’s ears, everyone would be choking with the fury on his face.

  “You’re going to compromise our cover to get Nasir,” Kade explained. “Or is getting Nasir contingent on finding the chemical weapons?”

  “Do you want your military to have permission to hunt down AQAP?” the general challenged.

  “I believe there is an agreement between the royal family and our country,” Max said.

  “Correct. We are allies,” the general countered. “And I want to interrogate the lovely Miss Emerson on what she knows about the chemical weapons because you seem to have failed on one of the tasks I’ve outlined for you.” He waved at the containers, his smile pure malice. “If she’s innocent in all this, there’s nothing to hide.”

  Kade threw out an arm at the crates, trying his best to control his temper and not yell at the general. “Your intel about the weapons is faulty. There are none. Your men have gone over the crates six times and there’s not a single trace.”

>   “Fine, but I’d like to talk to Miss Emerson myself.”

  “Tariq Haddad is meeting her tomorrow,” Kade informed him. “Think you can be in the same room with him and maintain civility and not derail the peace talks?”

  The general sneered. “I know what is expected of me. I am not in favor of the peace talks. Our Saudi ambassador is a puppet of the Americans. Those rebels must leave the land of Mohammed. There is no place for them here. Allahu Akbar.”

  “Allahu Akbar,” his men echoed in agreement.

  A chill crawled up Kade’s spine and he resisted the urge to look at Max and say “What the fuck.” It was a common enough phrase in their religion but, in this context, it reminded him of the jihadists.

  “But, we must play nice, no?” The general grinned, but malice gleamed in his eyes. “I will text you the time and the place when I’d like to meet her. Make it happen, Mr. Spear.” He nodded at the crates. “The shipment is all yours. I’ll have customs sign off on it.” He bowed slightly. “The contract on Nasir pushes through. Don’t fail me this time.”

  Kade snapped back to the present.

  That meeting was the beginning of the end for SSRR. He and Max couldn’t agree how to move forward. Kade’s plan was for Max and the convoy of humanitarian aid to proceed while he’d take Yara straight to the airport, tranquilize her if needed, but she was leaving on that plane with him and getting out of Yemen.

  He almost didn’t recognize Stryker was Garrison. It was the only reason he didn’t put up much of a fight during their confrontation in Aden. He and Max were the only ones on their team who knew what he looked like and Max only realized it after they’d been kicked out of the compound.

  Always trust your gut.

  Garrison reminded him of that and he’d listened to it then, trusting his handler would take care of Yara. He didn’t like it, but her trust in Kade had been shattered and she needed someone to look after her. Garrison was at the top of his choices.

  His handler contacted him that night they arrived in Taiz and gave him an update on Yara. That appeased Kade to an extent but they had bigger problems.