Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Kev woke, his head was pounding and his throat was dry. He sat up abruptly and clutched his head as pain shot through it.
“Man, don’t do that,” Iceman said, coming over and handing him a bottle of cold water. “You got shot, dude.”
“Lucky.” His voice came out as a croak, and he twisted off the cap and slugged down some water.
Iceman gripped his shoulder. “Calm down. We’ve got a vector on her and we’re on the way.”
Kev blinked. And then he realized that his surroundings rattled and hummed; he turned his head and tried to focus. It was dark and the environment was tinny. Hollow.
That’s when it hit him they were in a military transport and the turboprop engines were turned full bore. They were going somewhere as fast as possible in a C-130 Hercules.
He shook his head and focused until the other guys came into view. They were suited up and getting ready to jump. He lurched to his feet.
“I’m going with you.”
“No. Fuck no.” It was Matt. His CO stood and ranged over to him, looking like six-foot-two of pure pissed off Cajun. “You got shot, Kev. The bullet passed through and we’ve patched you up, but you’re out of commission until this op is over.”
“Do I have a fever?”
Matt glanced at Iceman. Iceman shook his head.
“Then I’m going.”
“The landing could make you start bleeding again.”
“I’ll take that chance.”
Matt’s eyes flashed. “How helpful do you think you’ll be to her if you’re bleeding out in the fucking desert?”
“I’m not going to bleed out from a bullet wound that missed an artery, and you know it. It’s packed tight and it’s got clotting powder on it. I can feel the fucking burn.” He sucked in a breath, his lungs filling. He ached, but he could function. “What if it was Evie out there, huh? Then what?”
He ground his teeth together when Matt didn’t reply. “If you don’t let me go, you’d better leave at least two people behind to watch me or I’m following you out that door.”
“Jesus Christ.” Matt blew out a breath. He looked utterly furious. And then he deflated like a popped balloon—but only for a second. “Suit up, asshole. If you fucking die, Lucky will kill me. And then I’ll follow your ass around in the hereafter, saying I told you so, motherfucker. You got that?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Matt waved a hand. “Fine. Knight Rider, give this eager volunteer his gear, would you?”
“Copy that,” Sam said, coming over with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Knew you’d be going with us. Never doubted it for a moment.”
“Care to tell me where we’re going?” Kev said as he started peeling out of the remnants of the tuxedo.
“Abdul Halim al-Faizan took a company helicopter out of the city an hour ago. Turns out the government has been tracking his movements for some time now, for various reasons. They’ve shared the information with us, thanks to Mendez leaning heavily on somebody in the Qu’rimi government.
We have satellite coordinates for his destination. ”
“What about the king?”
Sam snorted. “That’s the bitch of it. The king we saw was a body double.” He shrugged. “Don’t know if they always intended to send a double, or if it was a last minute switch, but the King of Qu’rim is safely tucked away in his royal palace.”
Kev’s heart fell to his toes. Sonofabitch. Not that Kev wasn’t glad Al Ahmad didn’t have the real king, but the moment he discovered the truth, he would take it out on those around him. And Lucky, if she was still alive, would be a perfect target for his anger. Kev’s gut clenched hard.
“Does Al Ahmad know yet?”
Sam’s eyes clouded, as if he knew what Kev was thinking.
“We don’t know. The fake king ordered the stand-down the Freedom Force asked for at the mine, but it’s taking some time to happen.
It’s a trap, obviously, and they need time to get assets in place.
But the longer it takes, the more suspicious it looks. ”
“Fifteen minutes to the DZ,” someone called, and Kev finished buckling into his parachute. Sam inspected Kev’s gear, though the jumpmaster would do it again before they fell out of the plane and into the dark sky below.
“Let’s go get our teammate,” Sam said with a grin. “No man or woman left behind, right?”
They’d flown for close to two hours before the chopper set down on a rooftop pad on what turned out to be a fortified compound in the desert. Lucky had been shoved into a room with barred windows, and then the door had slammed shut with a resounding clang.
The room was empty of furniture other than a bed, a night table, and a chair. There was an adjoining room with a toilet and sink. Lucky gave up trying to find something to defend herself with after a few minutes and went over to look out the windows. She could see nothing but concrete walls.
She hugged herself tight and turned again, eyes blurry. Goddammit, she just wanted this over with. If Al Ahmad was going to kill her, she wanted him to do it.
Not that she wanted to die, but she didn’t want to think about it for hours or days either. The last time he’d captured her, he’d kept her in a room like this one and she’d nearly gone mad. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, generating warmth.
She didn’t want to be at his mercy ever again. Didn’t want to beg and plead for her life while he carved his marks into her flesh. Or worse.
She didn’t want to think about worse.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “Just stop and think, dammit.”
He wanted her scared, there was no doubt about it, and he wanted to torture her.
He wanted to break her and make her beg for death.
But he was preoccupied with his coup at the moment.
She’d listened to his conversations during the flight since he hadn’t gone to any lengths to keep her from hearing.
Why would he when he was planning to kill her?
The king had ordered the army to stand down at the mine, but it was taking time. Apparently, whoever the commander in the desert was, he wasn’t just laying down arms and walking away. Smart man.
She had no idea where they’d taken the king, but she suspected they’d spirited him out of the city as well. Was he here in this compound too? Perhaps that’s why Al Ahmad had come here.
If so, maybe a rescue force was on the way. Maybe there was still a chance.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to search the room again. She might be going down, but not without a fight. And not without doing some damage on the way. It’s funny what you were willing to do when you had nothing left to lose.
She thought about using the night table as a weapon, but it was bolted to the floor. She stopped tugging on it and yanked open the drawers. They were empty.
Lucky tore the bedding off the mattress and upended it. The mattress sat on wooden slats, and she tested each one. They were solid. She nearly gave up, but she was determined to tug on them all to see if one came free… and one did.
Or, it didn’t come free, but it wriggled when she tugged. Upon closer inspection, she spotted a hairline crack running along the top half of the slat.
She stood on the slat and bounced—and it came free with a loud crack.
Triumph surged in her veins as she worked the broken slat back and forth until she had two jagged pieces.
The wood was solid and the edges were sharp.
They’d do some damage if she managed to stab somebody with them.
She quickly remade the bed and tucked both the broken pieces beneath the pillows where she could reach them easily.
And then she sat on the edge of the bed near the headboard and waited for someone to come for her.
The room was quiet, but she could occasionally hear voices filtering into her prison. At one point there were booted feet on the concrete over her head, and she guessed she was on the top floor.
She reached under the pillow and put her hand around the slat for comfort. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She was not going to take whatever happened without fighting back.
She thought about Kev and about how he’d admitted that he loved her tonight. Was it just a few hours ago now they’d been held captive in another room and she’d thought their lives were over? She scrubbed an angry hand over her face. It came away wet.
They’d had so little time together. And it had been fraught with so much tension and unresolved feelings.
Even if they’d made it out of Qu’rim alive, they would’ve had a lot to work through if they wanted to be together.
And maybe it wouldn’t have worked out, just like with her and Marco.
Maybe the past was simply too much to overcome.
Lucky tightened her fingers on the slat. She would never know, would she? Kev had been shot in Baq and she was once more locked up and awaiting a madman.
Her head snapped up as she heard someone coming down the hallway toward her room. And then the door swung inward and her heart pounded with fear and adrenaline. It was now or never.
She jerked the slat from under the pillow and lunged.
The man coming through the door didn’t know what hit him as she jammed the broken slat into his throat. A look of utter surprise crossed his face and she couldn’t help but mutter an apology. Taking a life wasn’t an easy thing to do, even when it was your only choice.
But it wasn’t Al Ahmad she’d stabbed through the throat.
It was the same man who’d shoved her up the stairs and into this room earlier.
He clutched the slat, making gurgling noises as he stumbled into the room.
She jammed the wood harder, and then she grabbed the other broken end from under the pillow when he toppled forward.
Lucky groped around his still-twitching body, searching for a weapon. There wasn’t one. If he had a gun, it was in the front. She thought about rolling him over, but what if he wasn’t dead? What if he grabbed her?