Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Z ain fought the urge to place his hand on Dana’s jumping knee. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road and his palms on the steering wheel.
By now, Jaysh would’ve alerted any contacts at the border. He’d changed his clothes and had new identification, so that was a good start. Dana would be caught in a second, though. She’d left her ID at his hideout, but she was easily identifiable as an American.
He’d deliberately chosen the smallest border crossing, which was a little farther out of the way, but that didn’t offer much guarantee. Not when there was plenty of air and land patrol on both sides. He slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road.
Dana straightened in her seat. “Why are you stopping?”
He braced his hand on her headrest and zeroed in on her smooth, panicked, pink lips. “You need to hide again. People could be looking for us at the border.”
Her face paled.
“Their organization spreads far and wide. We might sail through without a problem, but my bet is there will be moles looking for us.”
She compressed her lips.
“You’ll need to go in the trunk. I’ve got blankets back there you can hide under. I promise I won’t keep you in there a minute longer than necessary, but they’re looking for a male and female. I have a false identity. You’ll raise suspicions without a passport. Not to mention your appearance will give you away.”
“Okay,” she said, her big eyes wide. “Now?”
He nodded. She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out. He did the same and met her at the back of the car. Popping the trunk, he pushed aside an emergency medical bag and then lifted a folded blanket. “Go ahead.”
As he watched her climb into the trunk, irritation rattled through him. Goddammit, he hated making her get in there. Hated that she’d be afraid. But there was no help for it. If they got caught, he’d be too outnumbered, and he couldn’t let them capture her again.
She curled into a ball, her arms bundled tightly to her chest. Her wary eyes stared up at him. His chest spasmed. He spread the blanket over her. The trunk light illuminated the purple coloring on her cheekbone, a stabbing reminder of why he had to do this.
He reached out and brushed his knuckle over the bruise, wishing he could erase it from her delicate features. She blinked, her gaze curious.
Balling his hand, he pulled away. “Cover your face when I slow down. We’ll be at the border crossing then.” A beat passed. He couldn’t seem to tear himself away. “Won’t be long.” With that, he shut the lid with a sharp clank .
He hoped to hell the last thing he’d said to her hadn’t been a lie.
***
Well, this took a turn .
When they’d switched to the less-distinct vehicle and called Brick, she’d thought they were in the homestretch. That escaping Jaysh was as easy as crossing an invisible line into another country.
Boy had she been wrong.
Although the air outside was cold, inside the trunk, it was thick and stale. The heavy wool blanket was scratchy on her neck and chin, but she gripped the edge tightly, ready to dive underneath when they stopped. As if a blanket would hide her. If the trunk opened, they were screwed.
The vehicle bumped along the gravel road, and every pitch and sway made the undigested protein bar hit her stomach lining, as if a toddler were throwing a plate of food at it. If they made it into Pakistan, she’d surely get sick.
After a few minutes, the car slowed. The brakes squeaked, the high-pitched noise only agitating her nausea further. She pulled the blanket over her head. Her rapid breath made the confining walls shrink around her.
Please, God. Let us get through .
***
Zain kept his hand loose on the wheel as he inched toward the border crossing. Every muscle in his body clenched, ready to attack. His rifle sat on the passenger seat next to him—too far away for his comfort.
Thankfully, carrying a weapon was normal in these parts. Pointing one at the guards, however, would be a problem, so he’d avoid that unless necessary.
He’d promised Dana he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And while he’d meant every word, he didn’t like promises. The fact that he’d made one at all, let alone to a woman he didn’t even know, was stupid.
A guard approached his car, and Zain rolled down the window. Lights from lampposts lit the checkpoint like a concert stage. The desert around them was nothing but black sand and black sky. With a machine gun held loosely, as though it were simply another appendage, the man motioned for Zain to hand over his ID .
He dipped his fingers inside his shirt pocket and pulled out his passport. The guard read the identification stating he was Yusuf Syed, native of Pakistan. Zain had no doubts about the ID. It would pass any security system with flying colors because it had come from the best—the CIA.
No, the heartburn heating his chest wasn’t a result of the damn passport. It was the result of the stowaway in the trunk.
The guard lifted his steely brown gaze. Something flashed in his eyes. Zain lowered his hand to his lap, ready to snatch his weapon and shoot. Tension vibrated the air between them. He focused on making his breath even, not taking his eyes off the guard. If he flinched, he’d look guilty as hell. If he reached for the gun a second too late, he and pretty miss blue eyes were dead.
“Out of the vehicle,” the guard shouted in Pashto.
Sweat dampened the back of Zain’s collar. His muscles bunched. If he got out of the car without his weapon, he might as well just hand himself over. “Something wrong?”
Distaste twisted the man’s features. “I said, out!” He shouted something else over his shoulder, and another guard approached.
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
For a moment, indecision paralyzed him, but then he pushed open the door and stood next to the car with his hands up. There was no easy way out of this. All he could do was hope the bastard wasn’t trigger happy and that he could talk his way out.
“What’s the holdup?” Zain asked. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
The guards mumbled to each other, and his brain worked to process the fast-speaking Pashto. The only word he could pull from their conversation was a name: Isaad.
Fuck. These men were eyes and ears for Jaysh. And his gun was several feet away.
“Open the trunk,” the first guard said, gesturing.
Hell no.
Zain clenched his teeth. He shouldn’t be surprised that Jaysh’s men had gotten word to the border-crossing guards. Maybe he should’ve tried crossing through the mountain, but they’d likely have expected that as well. And Pakistan didn’t take kindly to illegal crossings.
He had to act. A cloak of calm spread over Zain’s shoulders. He didn’t normally lead with emotion. The only reason he was bent out of shape right now was because of the helpless woman he’d somehow become responsible for.
He never went down without a fight, and this time would be no exception. With that conviction in mind, the calmness became satisfaction. He’d already killed ten men today—what were a few more? He did a quick, subtle survey of the area. At this hour, there weren’t many people around.
In the next lane was only one car; the man in it spoke to a guard. Including the two guards Zain was dealing with and the one operating the arm barrier, there were four he’d have to take out.
He’d need to act fast. He’d hit the two men in front of him first, then the guard at the next lane; the one behind the bulletproof glass would be trickier. Not the best odds, but not the worst either.
He stretched his lips into a grimace. Let them think he was begrudgingly compliant. “Sure. One sec.”
The guards bent their heads together and spoke rapidly while Zain leaned inside. Rather than hit the trunk button, he grabbed his rifle. The smooth, heavy metal like home in his hands as he dragged it into the driver’s seat.
“What’s going on?” Another guard approached, his tone authoritative. Zain straightened, leaving his rifle inches from his grasp and out of view.
“This man’s suspicious and noncompliant.” Bullshit. “We need to search his vehicle.”
The new, heavyset guard reached for Zain’s passport and held it close to his face to study the shiny paper. Lowering it, he took a step forward, his gaze watchful.
“What are you doing, Abdullah?” asked one of the other guards. “We need to search. ”
Abdullah cocked his head. “Are you a friend of Ali?” he asked quietly.
The tension gripping Zain’s chest eased a fraction. “I am,” he said with a slight nod, remembering the name Brick had mentioned.
His dark eyes sparked with warning. “Get in your vehicle.”
Zain took back his passport and slid into his seat, pushing his weapon out of the way. Had Abdullah not shown up, every man at the checkpoint would be dead right now. He shifted into drive and sped away from the men arguing behind him. The first guard shouted at Zain, but he kept going.
***
Dana’s breath came in and out in sharp gasps. She hated this. Terror screeched in her ears. And with all her panting, the air only grew thicker. Sweat clung to her skin.
The warm, musty smell made the nausea in her gut heavier. Carpet fibers irritated her nose, threatening to make her sneeze. She covered her nose with her hand and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Great. With her luck they’d want to search the vehicle.
The men’s voices grew agitated. Zain spoke, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She took tiny breaths through her nose, but it wasn’t enough to settle the anxiety pressing against her chest. Her eyes watered with the need to break free from the confines of the vehicle. But she couldn’t do a damn thing but lie there and fight the rising hysteria.
The car door shut with an abrupt slam, and the engine started. Anxiety ripped through her muscles as she anticipated a blast of bullets. She covered her head with her arms, but no shots were fired. Only men yelling. Was Zain fleeing?
There was no way to tell. Not a fragment of light reached inside of the trunk. She might as well be at the bottom of the ocean for how dark it was.
She kicked the blanket away and greedily dragged in one breath after another. The inside of the trunk began to spin.
The tires whirred beneath her. Every bump over the uneven earth made breathing more difficult. She had to get out of here. Using all of her strength, she banged on the trunk lid. Her arms burned with the effort it took to use the last of her energy.
The car turned and slowed.
Her breath ran shallow, and the need to get outside into the cool, fresh air was almost too much to bear.
Click
Light flooded the dark space. Oxygen rushed in, and she choked on the fullness that hit her lungs. Hands seized her beneath her arms and hauled her out of the trunk.
“Dana.” Zain’s sharp, distinct voice calmed her slightly.
He held her perched on the edge of the trunk, one arm wrapped around her back, the other bracing the base of her neck. “Look at me, dammit.”
She struggled to bring in more air. One deep, shuddering breath after another. The cool night breeze caressed her sweaty skin, quickly dropping her body temperature. Bringing her gaze to Zain’s took a painful amount of effort.
His dark beard shadowed his jaw. Angst locked his mouth in a firm line and his brow in deep channels of worry. The gold flecks in his eyes anchored her, pushing away the possessive arms of terror.
“You’re okay.” His expression said otherwise. His thumb swept over the flesh where her jaw met her ear. “Sorry I kept you in there so long.”
She swallowed and shook her head. “It’s fine. I just... panicked, I guess.”
“It’s not fine.”
Her chest rose and fell, her system still trying to adjust to the abundance of space around her.
“Need some water?”
She swept her tongue over the dry tissue in her mouth. She nodded but caught his wrist so he wouldn’t walk away. If he let her go, she’d surely fold to the ground .
He must have understood because he brought his arm beneath her knees to lift her off the edge of the open trunk. Then he shut the lid. Setting her on top, he kept a steady arm around her. She let her body lean forward so her chest rested against his abdomen, her head just beneath his shoulder.
The solid wall of his abs tensed beneath his clothing. He seemed to hesitate before resting his palm on the middle of her back.
“Are we out of the woods yet?” She hated the way her voice wobbled. Hated that she needed confirmation from someone else. This wasn’t field-agent Dana. This was beaten-down Dana. After everything that’d happened today, she was fine with returning to a desk job.
Zain grunted. “Let’s hope. Your friends will be here any minute.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
Two large SUVs turned onto the road, their headlights bright. Zain’s body went rigid, his hand on her no longer hesitant but firm and protective. She lifted her head and found he had his rifle pointed at the newcomers.
The vehicles stopped side by side, and the passenger door of one opened. A man stepped out, hands raised.
Dana gasped with relief then slid off the car and out of Zain’s arms. “Brick!” she called. He ran toward her.
His large, muscular arms wrapped her in a hug and he rocked her. “Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He pulled away and looked down at her face. His features clenched. “Those bastards.”
She forced a smile. “I’m okay. Promise.” She looked over her shoulder to see Zain walking awkwardly toward them, his expression cautious, brooding, and guarded.
Dana backed away from Brick and caught Zain’s hand. “Zain, this is Brick.” She beamed at him. “We’re going to take you home now.”