Chapter 5
“ T he document outlines military action that the regime plans to take against opposition forces if the country falls into full-blown civil war. It includes attack plans on rebel strongholds, troop deployment, weapons to be used?—”
He stared at her, the seriousness of what she was saying finally hitting home.
“It’s their military strategy?”
She gave a quick nod. “It’s everything their enemies, as well as our government, would want to know.”
Holy shit. If what she was saying was true, this was big. That kind of intel would be gold to the western forces if they decided to intervene.
“Does it give specific dates or times for the attacks?” he asked.
“No, it’s more of a general directive than an actual schedule. It was written yesterday, by Abdul Anwar, in response to the uprising in Hamabad.”
“That bastard,” Tom muttered, jaw tight. The head of State Security was a ruthless piece of work. U.S. Embassy officials had had several run-ins with him over the last few months. If anyone had the resources to track Hannah across the island, it was him.
“Hamabad has been stirring for weeks,” he said. “This wasn’t a surprise. Several other rebel-held towns have already been hit by airstrikes—Jemah, Mandhab, a few others.”
She gasped. “I had no idea.”
“An anti-government protest turned violent. Security forces opened fire and killed several civilians. Things escalated fast—riots, roadblocks, then the army moved in. Hamabad was the first major city to ignite. The military rolled in this morning. There were heavy casualties.”
Her face went pale. “It’s worse than I thought. This really is a civil war.”
“Yeah. It’s part of the broader unrest sweeping the region. Our evacuation orders came in two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t I hear about it? No one said a word to me. If I’d known, I’d have made arrangements to leave.”
“Maybe that’s why they didn’t tell you,” he suggested.
“But I worked inside the palace. You’d think something would’ve filtered through, but Ahmed was just as shocked as I was when the news broke.”
“Ahmed?”
“A colleague. We saw footage on the news this morning.”
“I saw it too. It’s out there now, but they’ll cut the signal soon.” He’d seen it many times before—in countries on the brink.
She shivered. “I can’t believe Prince Hakeem would turn on his own people. He’s always treated me well. Respectfully. I never imagined he was capable of something like this.”
“War strips everything down,” Tom said flatly. “And he’s got a hell of a lot to lose.”
She nodded slowly. “True. But just so you know, I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known it would come to this. I don’t support violence. And I sure as hell don’t condone killing innocent civilians.”
Tom didn’t say anything. With his background, it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to get into.
She slapped her palms onto her thighs. “Wait. There’s more. I forgot to mention the evacuation plan. That was part of the memo, too.”
“Out of the country?” he asked.
She nodded. “It included detailed instructions on when and how to leave the capital, even listing the various safe houses.”
“Safe houses?”
“Yes. You know? Locations where they’d hide until the chaos died down. It would let the regime operate from the shadows while pretending they still had control.”
Hell, that kind of intel was priceless. To think he could be the one to deliver it.
“Do you have the actual locations?” he asked, carefully, his heartbeat kicking up a notch.
“I do.” She nodded emphatically. “There are five total. Two inside Syman, three in neighboring countries.”
“We’ll know where he’s hiding,” he murmured. It was the kind of intelligence field embassy agents had been chasing for months. And now, it was sitting right across from him in one frazzled, desperate, beautiful package.
Hannah leaned toward him, and he caught a whiff of jasmine. Sweet, delicate, made more potent by her body heat. “Do you think that warrants a personal escort out of the country?”
Fuck, yeah.
“I’d say so.” He kept his tone measured. “But I’ll have to clear it with my commanding officer.” And before that, he wanted to see the document with his own eyes.
She seemed satisfied. “Best you do that, then.”
Tom stood. He’d contact his CO. With any luck, he’d be granted new orders—orders to escort Hannah Evans and her high-value intel straight out of Syman.
“Right, then. I think it’s time you show?—”
A sharp crash cut him off. Glass shattered somewhere nearby, followed by the acrid sting of smoke filtering into the room.
He jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle in one swift motion.
“Stay here,” he snapped, already heading for the door.