Page 13 of Elusive Promise

"Officer Briggs," Damon said with a nod. "This is Special Agent Parisa Maxwell."

"Pleased to meet you," the officer said. "I'll be here all night."

"I appreciate that," she said with a tired smile, then followed Damon up the stairs.

Damon unlocked the apartment with a code and waved her inside.

The living room had a card table and four folding chairs. The bedroom had a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and an armchair. Her suitcase was on the floor by the bed.

"It's not much," Damon said. "Sorry."

"It will be fine."

"Maybe I should stay with you."

"You don't need to do that."

"I would have taken you home, but Sophie has a friend staying with us."

She let out a breath and sank down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her high heels. "It's fine. I'm fine. I have a gun in my suitcase, and I'm well trained. Plus, the officer is downstairs. You don't have to worry about me."

"I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But you almost died tonight, Parisa."

"I'll be okay. I'm more concerned about Jasmine. I want to talk to the Kumars again tomorrow."

"That's a good idea. They may speak more freely to you as an old family friend." He paused. "When were you last in Bezikstan?"

"When I was sixteen years old. I'm sure the country has changed a lot since I was there."

"Yes. The Bezikstan government is currently under attack from a couple of rebel groups, who are growing in strength and radical thought. That diamond could buy a lot of weapons."

"I know. I also know that Raj Kumar is very close to the government leaders. Perhaps Jasmine's kidnapping is part of a bigger play."

As she yawned, he said, "I'll let you get some rest. We can talk tomorrow."

"Thanks." She walked him back out to the living room, turning the dead bolt after he left the apartment. Then she returned to the bedroom, opened her suitcase and pulled out her gun.

Just as a precaution, she took it into the bathroom with her. She would take a hot shower and then go to bed. When she woke up, maybe she'd remember something important, something that would help Jasmine.

Four

Parisa didn't know what woke her up—it might have been the click of the door, or the sudden stream of light—but instinct brought her out of bed and to her feet as a dark figure came toward her. She saw the glint of a badge and for a moment, she was confused.

Was it the police officer who was supposed to be downstairs by the front door?

"What's going on?" she demanded.

Then she saw the gun in the man's hand, and her training kicked into gear.

Her first goal was to disarm him, which she managed to do with a swift waist-high kick that sent his weapon flying. She battled on, using her fists and her feet to fight. The man was bigger, but she was quicker.

She dodged several blows, but a stumble by the dresser gave her attacker an advantage, and he landed a punch against the side of her face that sent her reeling, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, she had to fight to stay conscious.

As he came at her again, she jerked to the right, knocking him off-balance.

She sprang back up to her feet, but he was too fast, and suddenly his hands were on her throat, and he was bending her over the dresser with a deadly force. As she looked into his dark, evil eyes, she knew this was not the man who had been assigned to watch her door.

Where the hell was he?

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