Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
N o one followed them as Zain made his way down a road carved between trees.
But they were coming.
He backed the vehicle into the forest, out of sight. He had to walk only half a mile to reach the road that the rest of Jaysh’s men would take to find him.
But they didn’t know he was ready and waiting.
“Stay here,” he said to the woman. “Don’t get out for any reason.” He should probably ask again if she was okay, but he didn’t have the capacity right now. Christ, he’d become socially inept.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt from the vehicle, softly closing the door. He hated that she’d been hurt again. He was being jumped by two men when he heard another drag her out. He’d killed the first two, breaking one’s neck and stabbing the other in the chest. But that bastard who’d had her on the ground— fuck .
For an instant, he’d thought she was already dead. The possibility had made him feel as if he’d touched a live wire. And he’d almost been too late. While fighting the second man, the one who’d made the call on the radio, he’d caught a glimpse of her through the truck windows. The woman knew how to handle herself. What she’d done was more than run-of-the-mill self-defense. Her posture, stance, and capabilities screamed law enforcement. He’d know that training anywhere.
Earlier, she’d tried to offer herself up as a sacrifice, suggesting he leave her and go. That shit irked him but also made him wonder if she was some kind of journalist who’d realized she’d crossed the line and had endangered too many people.
Later, he’d get a better handle on who she was—and maybe he would just let her out in the woods to fend for herself. After all, she had just blown apart everything he’d been working toward.
No, he could never do that, even if she was a careless journalist. Even if she was another type of operative. Even if she was a spy. She couldn’t be more than thirty years old. He was thirty-two, but he still shouldered more responsibility.
At the end of the day, he’d incited all this chaos to keep a woman from a fate worse than he could imagine. So as pissy as he was, he’d only fantasize about ditching her.
He stomped to the back of the truck. Every vehicle held a crate of weapons. He had to hurry before he missed Jaysh’s men. Jumping in the back, he ripped off the lid of the crate and pulled out a few hand grenades and another magazine for his rifle.
He moved swiftly down the dirt trail. The men wouldn’t be too far behind, but there were several small clearings and paths—a ton of places they could’ve gone. Hopefully they kept to the main road.
The roar of approaching engines relaxed his muscles. He could handle battle and death. That shit didn’t faze him. Women on the other hand, well fuck. He was out of touch with that area. He stayed hidden in the bushes and watched as the first truck came barreling down the road.
He brought the grenade to his mouth and pulled the pin with his teeth. He’d have to step out of the bushes to make a calculated throw at the moving target.
He held his breath as he counted the clicks of the truck. A little more, a little more...
Zain stepped out of hiding, drew back his arm, and threw the grenade. In a split second the headlights swallowed his body and gunshots fired. He dove to the ground as the grenade exploded.
He watched with his arms over his head as the first truck flipped on its top and the second swerved around it, rolling off the road.
Flames licked the first vehicle. Zain got to his feet and seized his rifle. He broke into a jog, crouching low, his finger on the trigger. Every one of them would have to die. Reaching the first vehicle, he located three men. Only one stirred, his movements slow. Blood swallowed his face. Without a second thought, Zain blasted two bullets in him and in the two dead guys for good measure.
Breaking away from the scene, he rushed to the second vehicle, which was on its side. One man crawled out of the passenger door. Zain shot him in the chest, and he went down with only a grunt. Then Zain circled around to the windshield and fired two shots at the driver, who appeared already dead.
That was it. No one else. The pressure on his chest eased but only a fraction.
More would come.
***
Heat scalded Dana’s cheek. She touched the tender, swollen flesh and winced. Then she brought her fingers to her scalp. If he’d ripped out a handful of hair she couldn’t tell based on thickness, but the skin smarted.
Everything hurt. With every swallow, she felt as though daggers were slicing her throat, the tendons in her neck ached, and her head still swam from getting the wind knocked out of her. But what did bumps and bruises matter when she might not live to see the next day ?
Dana mopped the tears off her cheeks with the heel of her palm. Stupid. All along she’d assumed Zain was some tortured soldier. A captive held against his will and someone in need of rescue. Whoever he was, Zain was certainly not that.
He’d taken out several men without hesitation. For all she knew, he’d do the same to her. Well, perhaps not. He’d saved her life several times now.
But still. He seemed furious she was here. Angry she’d found him. Who would feel that way unless he’d swapped to the other side? A terrorist happy just to kill. Someone who didn’t care who was on the receiving end of his weapon. That’s who.
Now she was screwed. She stared out the windshield, but she couldn’t see a damn thing but trees swathed in darkness.
Bam!
She gasped at the gruesome sound of an explosion. Oh god. Had the terrorists found them? Had they killed Zain?
Fear pierced her heart. She grabbed the door handle. Her stress response kicked in. Fight, flight, or freeze? Definitely freeze. Because she could barely breathe through the cramping around her lungs.
If Zain died before she got to explain everything, she’d never forgive herself. He might have separated himself from where he’d come from, but there was always the possibility she could reach him. Tell him that Rami desperately wanted him to come home. That his family loved and missed him and prayed for him.
That she’d prayed for him.
Her throat cinched, and she blinked away the fresh wave of tears. Zain could be dead, and she was a sitting duck.
Bullets blasted in the night, and she let out a barely audible shriek. She couldn’t tell if the firing was from more than one source. After a handful of shots, the sounds stopped.
Her breath wheezed in and out of her nose in frantic little pants. Seconds clipped by, then minutes.
They’d find her. Zain would have been back by now. She clutched the knife in both hands. She had to run. Maybe she could grab a gun from the back of the truck. She’d seen Zain take some from the crate.
Maybe—
A dark figure stepped into the clearing. He moved without hesitation, his head and weapon down.
Zain.
Before her brain could register that he was alive, the door on the driver’s side creaked open, and he slid in. The interior light turned on, and he pinned her with his searing-hot amber gaze. His face wore the weathered look of pain and heartache. Tension held his brow high and his jaw tight. His eyes were sharp like that of a lion—or a wounded animal. Either way, they lacked trust. They’d been hurt. Beaten down.
She inhaled a shuddering breath. “You’re okay.” Disbelief rang from her statement.
He blinked a few times. Each swipe of his dark lashes seemed to wipe clear a film of distrust from his face. He looked at her cheeks, probably noticing the tear tracks. “I’m fine. They’re dead.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Who the hell are you?” he growled.
A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed over it. He spoke with such disdain that she wanted to curl inside herself. Words evaded her. Fear wound around her vocal cords. What if he doesn’t remember where he’s from?
“You said my name.” His voice was a little gentler. A little less angry. “Back at the cave.”
She nodded. “Yes, I—” Hauling in a breath through her nose, she knotted her hands in her lap. “I’m Dana McAvery. I work for Backcountry Protection Services.”
His granitelike expression didn’t change. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
“It’s a bodyguard agency.” Summoning up every ounce of bravery stored inside her, she rested her hand on his, which lay on the console separating them.
Zain’s gaze shifted awkwardly, but he didn’t move. The muscles in his hand twitched beneath his thick skin.
“Rami Mitry, your brother, co-owns it.” She watched his eyes widen. Still, he didn’t move. “He’s been searching for you all this time. And I—Well... We came to rescue you.”
Zain’s head ticked back as if she’d struck him. “Rescue me?”
She squeezed his hand. “You went missing. Right when the troops were pulled—”
He yanked his hand away from her. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. He swiped his hand down his face.
“I’m sure this is a lot to take in.” She inched closer, questions scalding her tongue. “Do you—”
“Fuck!” He smacked his palm against the dash.
Dana jumped, pressing her back to the window. Unease shuddered through her as Zain’s body coiled into an angry spring.
“I can’t believe this. Goddammit .”
She winced. “I don’t understand.” Part of her wanted to escape the truck. To run from this man who was so angry and confused—a ticking time bomb that might be her demise if she wasn’t careful. “Zain?” she asked softly, desperately needing an explanation.
Or some kind of guarantee he wasn’t the heartless killer he appeared to be.
Fury emanated from his body. Yet she sensed his anger wasn’t directed at her, even though he’d been cold and abrasive .
“Is Rami here?” he asked, keeping his gaze ahead. His voice sounded hollow. Like the voice of a man who’d lost his best friend. But he also sounded cautiously hopeful and... afraid? She couldn’t be sure.
“No.” She cleared her throat. “He... uh. Doesn’t exactly know I’m here.”
Zain swung his probing stare her way. “What do you mean?”
She toyed with a strand of her hair. “Well, everyone who works for Backcountry knows about your case. Rami has been working tirelessly to find you. But it wasn’t until August, one of the employees—and Rami’s best friend—handed me your file that I really got absorbed in locating you.” She couldn’t dim the passion in her voice. The excitement when she discovered the video of Zain still radiated through her.
Maybe because she’d always been a thrill junky. Maybe because she’d been so touched by Zain’s story.
“That doesn’t answer my question. Why isn’t he here?”
“I didn’t tell him I found you because I wasn’t sure it was you. I knew that unless I got closer, I wouldn’t know if you were still...”
One dark, thick eyebrow arched. “Alive?”
She nodded. “The footage I found of you was old. I was afraid Rami would get his hopes up only to find out you were dead. So I decided to find you myself.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. The sound was one of defeat.
Her shoulder sagged. This wasn’t exactly the rescue she’d envisioned. He wasn’t thrilled to have been found. Wasn’t eager to go home. Did he even want to leave? What if she had to return to the US to tell Rami she’d found his brother but he wouldn’t return?
Devastation spiraled within her. She had to convince him to come with her.
“Zain, please.” She wiggled closer, this time a little more confident he wouldn’t hurt her. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m sure you’re traumatized and confused. Imprisonment does terrible things to a person. It can take years to get over the hold your captors had on you. Stockholm syndrome is probably a factor. But—”
A deep, rough laugh rumbled from his throat, and his shoulders jostled. She frowned.
“Stockholm syndrome? Are you kidding me?”
“Not in a romantic way,” she added. She kept her tone soft, understanding. Hopefully he’d get the message that he was a victim in all this. “Zain, there are a lot of people who want you to come home.”
He lowered his hand from his face and met her stare. “Like I said before, lady. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
Apprehension climbed her spine. “I think you need to elaborate.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “When the troops were pulled out, my unit was hit with an IED. Eleven men died. Everyone except me.”
Dread filled Dana. She kept her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced down at her fingers then out the windshield. “I still haven’t figured out why I’m the one who survived.”
The sad note in his voice struck a chord of sympathy in her heart.
He shrugged. “I was in the hospital healing from minor wounds when the CIA came in and told me I was being placed inside Jaysh. I was given a mission to integrate with the group, work my way up the chain, and locate the leader.” He faced her again. “That plan and all my hard work blew up in my face the moment you found me.”
Her stomach bottomed out as realization struck her with a ten-foot pole. Oh god. She’d screwed up his mission. Endangered him. Pressure built at the corners of her eyes, and she forced down the deluge of tears that threatened to come. She’d almost gotten herself killed. Didn’t know if Brick was alive.
And she’d messed up the CIA’s plan to take down the leader of a terrorist group.
She covered her lips with her fingers. “Ohmigod. I—”
“Don’t. You didn’t know.” Despite his words, his voice was rough. Disgruntled.
The last thing she wanted was to send him back to that hellhole, but at least if she went home without Zain now, she’d have an explanation for Rami. Revealing classified information was beyond wrong, but dammit, Rami had a right to know.
He shook off her arm and turned over the engine. “We need to move. I’ve got a spot nearby where we can change vehicles. We’re nowhere near safe.”
“Stop.” She pulled on his elbow. She was getting way too comfortable with touching him. But his solid strength gave her something to hold on to, the cords of his muscles offering assurance that he was real and she wasn’t alone. “You don’t have to do this. Just get me to a phone and I’ll find my own way out of here. You can go back and—”
“And what? My cover’s blown.” He shook his head. “If I stay in Afghanistan, I’ll be dead by morning. I killed ten of their men in the last hour. You don’t even want to know what they’ll do to me if I’m found.”
The tears she’d managed to keep down rushed to the surface. She hadn’t just royally screwed up his mission—she’d put him in a horrible position. She’d made him the most wanted man in the country. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed, swiping at the blasted tears on her cheeks.
“Don’t be. Just do what I say so we can both get out of here.”