Page 42 of Dangerous Protocol

“Yes, I’m fine.” She peppered him with questions. “How is she? How did she look? Did she say anything? Is Jeffrey okay? Was anyone hurt?”

“All I know is—” He stopped short. “Hang on a sec. Andi’s in my ear.”

Maya listened closely to Casey’s side of the conversation.

“Hey, Andi.” Silence. “Okay, got it.” More silence. “Yes, I’ll tell her.”

Maya held her breath, wondering what kind of update Andi had given him.

“Sorry ’bout that, Maya.” His apology was completely unnecessary. “Andi said they’re all headed back to Jeffrey’s place.”

“Thanks very much, Casey.” Now that she knew her daughter, Jeffrey, and the rest of the team were safe, she could finally breathe.

Her relief was temporary, because Al-Mansoori was a powder keg of hatred, and she feared they’d just lit the fuse.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nadim ended the callwith Adnan, and his molars ground together. The man’s impudence created a powerful urge to throw the phone across the room. Instead, he focused on remaining calm and set it down gently on his desk. His father once said that outbursts of emotion were a sign of internal weakness, and Nadim had taken it to heart.

He reached for the decanter and poured the remaining bourbon into his glass.

Soon, his father’s demand to avenge his brother’s murder would be fulfilled, and Nadim would finally, after many long years, be able to cast off the yoke of that burden and move on with his life.

Happy in the knowledge that it would all be ending soon, he swallowed a healthy amount of liquor and watched the long hand on the clock click to the ten. His gaze dropped to the laptop screen and the blinking cursor.

Eleven fifty and still no response from Maya Corbett.

“Do you think I was not serious, Ms. Corbett?” Was she playing a game with him by delaying her response until the last moment?

He finished off the bourbon and leaned forward to set the glass next to the empty decanter, and the room was suddenly plunged into blackness.

The glow of the laptop screen was the only light until a set of emergency lights mounted high up in one corner of the ceiling clicked on. Their dim light only touched a small portion of the large room.

The doors of his office burst open, and he bolted up from his chair.

Commander Rahim Kassab and two guards rushed across the room—flashlights in hand—and circled behind his desk.

“What the hell is going on, Commander?” Nadim looked from one man to the other.

“We are not sure, Your Majesty.” Rahim’s voice held zero emotion. “Please, you must come with us to the safe room.”

As the head of the Royal Guard, Kassab was personally responsible for the king’s safety. Just as he had been when Nadim’s father was alive.

“I am not going anywhere until I know what the hell is going on!” Nadim grabbed his cell phone and dialed Adnan’s number. With each ring, his impatience grew. Sixrings later, Bashar’s voicemail answered, and Nadim hung up. “Where the hell is Adnan?”

“We do not know, Your Majesty.” Rahim’s monotone responses were beginning to grate on Nadim’s nerves. “We have had no success reaching him or the guards placed at the door to the girl’s room.”

“Son of a bitch.” The king shoved past Rahim, surprising the man and knocking him back against the bookshelf behind his desk.

He ran into the hall and headed straight to the elevators.

The guards’ footsteps thundered behind him.

“Your Majesty,” Rahim shouted. “You must wait for us to escort you.”

Nadim pressed the elevator button repeatedly before remembering they automatically shut down in the event of a power failure.

“Dammit!” His breaths were heavy. He pounded the butt of his fist against the elevator doors and turned, ready to bolt to the stairs, and came face-to-face with the commander.

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