“Bob, Tariq, do you copy?” Kade tried again switching to a backup frequency.
Static and then … “Spear?”
“What the fuck happened to you guys?”
“Dunno, faulty comm…” Static “EX” … Static. “To chopper.”
Piece-of-shit radios.
“They seem okay,” Kade muttered. “Looks like they’re heading back to the helos.” Hopefully they weren’t being chased by Al Qaeda.
Movement at the hangar drew everyone’s attention. Jed stood at the entrance, giving them a thumbs-up.
“Go,” he ordered the group. Kade and Zeke hung back, scoping the dark field for Al Qaeda while Yara sprinted to the hangar followed by Garrison who dragged Al-Fayed along. The CIA man at some point had gagged their prisoner.
A dead man lay in a pool of blood just inside the door. Roarke or Jed must have popped him using a suppressor.
“Beechcraft-Turboprop. Figure we could fly back to the Horn of Africa?” Kade commented, walking up to the small plane running his hand along the fuselage. “Get out of this hellhole?”
“Not a bad idea,” Yara mumbled.
Kade chuckled and slung an arm around her hugging her close. “Unless they got word we’re coming in, we might get—”
Frenetic gunfire echoed in his ear and a force slammed into his back as Kade lost the use of his right leg. He crashed to the ground, taking Yara with him.
“Kade!”
Fighting through the pain in between his shoulder blades and cursing through the fire in his leg, he crawled over Yara and swung his rifle around and aimed.
General Boustari walked out of the fields, a gun blazing in each hand sending everyone scrambling for cover. When the arc of the bastard’s automatic weapon swept back in their direction, Kade squeezed the trigger at the same time his team returned fire.
Boustari jerked backward as their rounds sliced through him.
Silence.
“Is everyone okay?” Garrison shouted in the ensuing chaos. “Secure the perimeter! Make sure he’s the only one.”
Kade, aware he was crushing Yara, forced himself off her and onto his back, groaning.
“Motherfucker,” he croaked. Yara’s hands were all over him before she pressed her hands against his thigh and sharp pain jolted through his entire body. “Fuck!” he gritted, glaring at the woman he loved.
“You’re bleeding,” she clipped.
“I fucking know that!” he growled. “Help me up!”
“Didn’t you hear me? You’re bleeding!” she yelled.
“Stop yelling … Fuck! Ahhh, argh … hold it steady dammit!”
“He’s behaving like a baby,” Yara said to the person looming above him.
“Garrison, you son of a bitch …” Kade got out.
His friend … former friend … dropped to a crouch beside him. “He’ll live, I think. Can you move your toes?”
“Yes!” He glared. Garrison took off his belt and wrapped it below the groin. “That should stem the flow. Probably a vein, blood isn’t shooting.”
“Come on, man.” Garrison hauled him up. Kade’s world tilted. “Al-Fayed?”
“Roarke’s watching him.”
Pain shot through his leg and his back was on fire.
“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning against Garrison, but gripping Yara’s hand.
“He’s losing a lot of blood,” his woman said.
“You thunk?” Why was he slurring?
“Come on.”
“You guys better haul ass.” Kade heard Jed through the fog in his mind. “Gotta hold of Bob. Al Qaeda heard the gunshots. They’re heading our way.”
29
Yara listened to the men argue, wanting to speak up. Kade was sitting in the pilot’s seat and had already done the pre-flight checks and got the engine started. The plane sat idling on the runway. He was, apparently, the only one who knew how to fly an aircraft, but he was floating in and out of consciousness. The confidence level in his piloting skills wasn’t very high at the moment.
Luckily, the bleeding on his leg wound had slowed so that was one less thing Yara could worry about.
“What do you mean you can’t fly a plane?” Declan glared at Garrison. “You’re the CIA. Aren’t you supposed to know everything?”
“Might say the same about you, Roarke.”
“I … I can fly …” Kade murmured.
“Shut up!” everyone yelled.
“Just saying,” he replied loopily.
“Why don’t you try it?” Garrison continued arguing with Declan. “Plug flight plan in the GPS. Taxi the plane and take off.”
“Ranger here.” Declan crossed his arms. “Not Fly Boy.”
“Nothing’s gonna matter if we don’t get up in the air in the next five minutes,” Jed said. “Make a fucking decision, guys.”
Everyone glared at Jed and he held up his arms in a “don’t shoot the messenger” gesture.
“I’ll pilot,” Yara squeaked. The instrument panels didn’t look any different from her Cessna and, fortunately, they were in English. The basics were there: altimeter, airspeed, vertical speed indicator, etc. Kade had already gone through the checklist before he was shot up with morphine. She’d been double-checking his work behind him. He seemed to have gotten it right.
But she’d never been responsible for five lives with Al Qaeda breathing down her neck, needing to fly over two hundred miles from Yemen to the Horn of Africa.
Kade grinned dopily. “That’s right! You have a pilot license.”
Garrison glowered at Yara. “How long have you been flying?” He was already yanking Kade up from the pilot’s seat and pushing her into it.
“I got my pilot’s license six months ago.” Yara pulled up the GPS and Garrison immediately plugged in the coordinates to the U.S. base in Djibouti in the Horn of Africa. Obviously, CIA man had done this before.
“How confident are you?” Garrison asked quietly.
Yara gulped as she started the engine run-up sequence and started taxiing. “I’m somewhat confident.”
“Well you better get confident real fast.”
A loud blast erupted behind them. Yara jerked the plane left, before righting it.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she chanted.
“Holy fuck! That was an RPG!” someone yelled in the back.
“Everyone to their seats!” Garrison ordered and clapped Yara’s shoulder. “You’ve got this, Emerson.”
Yara made a sound in the back of her throat, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.
“You’re doing great, Tink,” Kade said beside her.
Her fingers gripped the flywheel so tight, she might have imprinted her fingermarks permanently
“Climb now,” Kade said.
“You sure …?”
“Yes.” His voice washed over with lucid clarity, strengthening her courage.
She set the climb power. The plane shook as it fought gravity and lifted from the ground. Bullets pelted the fuselage and an explosion below the plane hijacked her heart.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Yara repeated over and over. Another RPG just missed them!
Her fingers were ice cold. The urge to squeeze her eyes shut was overwhelming.
“You can do it, Emerson!” Garrison yelled from the back.
She watched their altitude climb, but when the fuselage shook with drag, she started to panic.
“Landing gear and flaps,” Kade whispered.
Of course!
The shaking smoothed out, and finally at thirty-five thousand feet, she exhaled a long breath.
Several actually.
“I think I got it!” She couldn’t believe it. Exhilaration mixed with the feeling of throwing up. That was crazy!
“Good job, babe …”
She glanced over at Kade, her smile freezing as his eyes closed.
“John!” Yara called, alarm stealing the breath from her lungs. “Keep him awake, please.”
“We got him.” Roar
ke and Garrison appeared by their side. “Concentrate on getting us to Djibouti.”
An hour later, they landed in Djibouti at Camp Ravine, a U.S. naval expeditionary base. Garrison was able to use the cockpit’s radio to make contact with the Combined Joint Task Force Command, giving them a heads-up on their flight arrival, that they were carrying an HVT, and to deploy the grounded SEAL team to Bayda for recovery operations. They were also able to confirm that Tariq, Bob, and the rebel soldiers who’d accompanied them on the assault made it back to Sana’a without fatalities.
A medical team met them at the tarmac and Kade was immediately transported in for surgery.
That was the last time Yara saw him or the other guys.
She’d been checked over by a nurse, prior to a Marine escorting her to a CLU—a containerized living unit. After taking a quick shower, she dressed in a tee and fatigues provided for her and was led back to this meeting room. She kept asking about Kade but no one gave her answers.
She stared at walls. There was nothing for her to do, to read, to see. There were no windows. She was worried about Kade. It had been hours.
Finally, the door opened and a distinguished gentleman in a khaki uniform stepped in. He had a binder under his arm. Great, he already knew everything about her while she was still completely in the dark.
“Ms. Emerson.” The man held out his hand and indicated for her not to rise. “I’m Lt. Commander Tomlin. The XO of Camp Ravine.” Tomlin perched on the corner of the table. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but as you know, you brought in an HVT—sorry, I meant a high —”
“I know what that means,” Yara cut in. “What I want to know is how Kade is doing.”
“He’s fine. They extracted the round and he’s in recovery.”
“When can I see him?”
Tomlin’s face shuttered. “That’s not possible right now.”
“Why not?”
“We’re determining if he and his team broke U.S. laws.”
“Are you serious?” Yara sprung to her feet, mouth gaping. “From what John told me on the plane, Nasir is alive.”
“We’re not talking about Nasir. I’m sorry, Ms. Emerson, but I cannot discuss his situation with you.”
“Because I’m a civilian? Do I need to remind you that our government knowingly gave me up to a Saudi general to use as bait to flush out your HVT? That I was subjected to the manipulation of your agency; made to think that someone I cared about was dead. I was terrorized by the thought that I might be raped, beheaded, or sold to human traffickers?”
Tomlin couldn’t meet her eyes. “Ms. Emerson, that was the CIA—”
“Oh, stop blaming each other,” Yara snapped. The more she spoke, the more she seethed. “I want to see Kade Spear and I want to see him now. I’m sure you don’t want it all over the news that it was a civilian who piloted the plane that brought you your most wanted terrorist.”
Disturbance from outside drew their attention.
The door flew open and Kade barged in, skin ashen, mouth bloodless, and face furious.
“Kade!” Yara was halfway up her seat.
Ignoring Tomlin, he limped toward her, leaning heavily on the table and touched her cheek. “You okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” She sank back into her chair, mainly because he sat on the one opposite her, but because relief stole the strength in her legs as well. Her eyes took in the sweat glistening on his brow then looked past his shoulder at Declan and John. “Should he be walking around?”
“No,” Garrison answered. “But if I didn’t get him out of there and let him see you with his own eyes, he’d be locked up in solitary for assaulting the clinic staff.”
“Kade …” Yara sighed with censure.
The entire time, Kade couldn’t stop touching her. Her cheeks, her hands, her hair. Finally, he grabbed her hands together and kissed her knuckles. “Had to see you. No one was stopping me.”
Tomlin cleared his throat behind them. “Master Sergeant.”
Kade stiffened and turned his head. “Lt. Commander.”
“Your case is still under review. I suggest you stay in the clinic. Once you’re healthy enough, you’ll be moved to a CLU.” Tomlin glowered at John. “If Garrison can’t keep you in your room, I’ll have to assign guards to you.”
“You’re treating Kade like a criminal,” Yara argued. “He’s not under military jurisdiction nor subject to military laws.”
“That’s what we’re evaluating, but he did disrupt a military operation.”
“What?” Yara blanched. Everyone’s expression including John’s and Declan’s looked grim enough for a pit of worry to take root in her gut.
She tightened her hands on his fingers. “But everything is going to be okay, right?”
After everything they’d been through, Kade was going to get thrown into jail?
Her eyes searched his face but save for the flash of yearning in his eyes, his features were hard and stoic. He looked over his shoulder at Tomlin and at the other guys. “I need a moment with her.”
Tomlin checked his watch. “Five minutes. The C-17 leaves for Ankara in half an hour.”
“What’s he talking about? Kade?”
When he didn’t say anything, she yanked her hands from his. “Look at me.”
Kade waited for the door to close behind Tomlin before speaking. “I’ll be here for a while. You need to go to Turkey. To your parents.”
“No.”
“Yara, knowing you’re here and I can’t watch over you is gonna fuck with my head. The sooner I settle the situation, the sooner I can haul ass back to you.”
“Can Declan watch over me?”
“No.”
“Now is not the time for jealousy.”
Kade’s jaw tensed. “You’re forgetting, Yara, he’s in as much shit as I am.”
“They can’t court-marshal you. You’re a civilian.”
“A court-martial applies to civilians if the crimes are covered by military law. Someone is getting in contact with the DoJ and JAG.”
“We have lawyers at ERAF,” Yara offered.
His face softened. “I appreciate the thought. I’ll be fine. Garrison’s batting for us and he’s got friends in high places. I just want you safe. I need you safe.”
“How long is this going to take?”
Kade was already shaking his head. “Don’t know. They might let us go in a day. They might let us go in a week. It might be six months or a year.”
“I’ll wait for you. No matter what.”
“You better,” he murmured. He leaned in and they shared a long, sweet kiss, full of longing and angst.
When Kade pulled back, he gave a wry grin. “I’ll have Garrison give you a new phone. I will not disappear. I’ll call you when you get to Ankara if I’m allowed.”
“You better.” She gave him a watery smile. Words stuck on her tongue. She was afraid to voice them because they would feel like a final goodbye.
Kade’s throat bobbed, his eyes communicating, reflecting what she felt. “Tink, I—”
A rap on the door cut him off.
Their five minutes were up.
30
They landed in Ankara.
Yara stood at the ramp and waited for the C-17 cargo doors to open, anxious to see who was meeting her.
As it descended fully and she took the first steps down, Sully and her mom came into view. Her face broke into a smile, but she felt an odd urge to retreat back into the depths of the aircraft when she spotted the crowd behind them.
A scattering of familiar faces, a sea of strangers. Sullivan Creed fans waving flags of welcome.
It was a circus.
There were reporters and journalists, but her previous resentment to them was nowhere to be found.
She forced her feet to move as conflicting emotions overcame her.
Why wasn’t Yara running toward her parents?
Her mother waved frantically, her father’s face was red, trying to control his tea
rs. She was happy to see them, wasn’t she? Wasn’t she relieved?
Sully, impatient for her to reach them, left the receiving line, dragging her mother along and met Yara at the bottom of the ramp. He caught her in a bear hug. “Welcome back, pumpkin.”
She glanced up at her father and smiled. “Dad.”
“Azizam, my baby, my baby,” her mother cried, the three of them engulfed in a tight hug. The crowd erupted in cheer, but it didn’t match how Yara was feeling.
Her heart remained cracked.
Her purpose remained unfulfilled.
She wanted to go back.
To Djibouti.
To Yemen.
It had been four days since she arrived in Ankara. Kade called her twice a day and kept her up-to-date with his case, but their conversations were short because the Al-Fayed op was classified. JAG had taken over the investigation since Kade, specifically SSRR, had violated military laws. Kade indicated that they were reaching a resolution, but Yara couldn’t tell from his voice whether it was good or bad.
The wait was killing her.
But what was bothering her more than her feelings for Kade was her collective experience in Yemen.
It felt unfinished.
Her parents were leaving the next day, and they were having people over in their suite. None of her father’s band was in town, but some minor celebrities and socialites had been invited.
“I hope it’s okay,” her mother said, sitting beside her on the couch. “People are asking after you, and I thought it was best to just have a little get-together here since you didn’t want to follow us to Paris.”
Yara sighed, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just tired.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell her that she’d given away Mamani’s pendant.
“I know there are many things you can’t tell me,” her mother said shrewdly as a little smile formed. “Like this Kade guy … hmm?”
Yara emitted a short laugh. “I’ll bring him to meet you guys soon. He’s just dealing with some issues right now.”
Wait, did Kade want to meet her parents? He didn’t look like the meet-the-parents type. Was she assuming too much? This distance between them only highlighted how little they really know about each other.
The Princess And The Mercenary Page 24