Page 42 of Fast Kill

“Brilliant, then you can show me to the briefing room instead.”

Zaid blinked. She was going into a team briefing with them? “Uh, sure.”

The hint of a smile quirked the corner of her mouth as she fell in step with him, dragging a rolling suitcase with her. “It’s okay. I’m your intel officer for the briefing.”

“Oh.” Wasn’t too often they got a female IO, and to his recollection never one as good-looking as her. “You work here in D.C.?”

“No. Kabul, mostly.”

Then it hit him. He snapped his fingers, his expression brightening. “Knew it. I saw you there this past March.” She’d been working intel at headquarters there, but they’d never been formally introduced.

She eyed him for a moment before looking back down the hallway. “Sorry, I don’t remember you.”

That shouldn’t have dinged his already bruised ego, but it did. “You still stationed there, or did you transfer here?”

“Still there. I’m just here to help with a special case.” Her cell rang. She pulled it from her pocket, answered, and began a conversation in rapid Dari.

Zaid caught every word, and noted that she spoke it like a native, without any trace of an accent. He didn’t have one either, because both his parents had been born and raised in Afghanistan and had taught him both Dari and English growing up here in the States, in addition to some Pashto.

He listened as they walked the rest of the way to the team briefing room. Information about various warlords and traffickers in and around central and southern Afghanistan. Heavy shit requiring a hefty security clearance.

When they reached the door, Zaid held out a hand to indicate the room. She nodded in acknowledgment and ended her conversation. She slipped her phone back into the front pocket of her cargo pants as they stepped inside.

The rest of the guys were already seated inside, and Taggart stood up front, the lights glinting off his dark blond hair. Behind him the big screen showed pictures of some of theVenenocartel members they were currently interested in. The team commander gave Jaliya a small smile and beckoned her up front with him.

Zaid grabbed a seat next to Logan and watched her.

“Who’s she?” Logan whispered, his knee wrapped up with a compression bandage. Zaid still felt bad for causing the injury.

“Apparently she’s an IO on this case.”

Logan’s reddish-brown eyebrows went up and he settled back into his chair, his left leg straightened out in front of him. Zaid had looked at the knee earlier today. The swelling was going down but it was a long way from being healed. Logan was chomping at the bit to get back to training full time with the rest of them, but if he pushed too hard too fast, it would set him back to the recovery start line and delay his return even longer.

“Boys, meet SA Jaliya Rabani, Foreign Cooperative Investigations agent working out of Kabul,” Taggart announced in his booming voice, his light turquoise eyes sweeping the room. “The agency asked her here to assist with their investigation of theVenenocartel, and she’s been briefed about our operation in the Bahamas. She’s got intel pertinent to our latest targets.” He nodded at her. “Take it away.”

“Thank you.” Jaliya took center stage and got right to the point, mentioning names while another agent in the back of the room handled the power point presentation. Zaid paid close attention to her body language. Poised, confident. No nonsense.

Hot.

He shook off the unprofessional thought and focused on what she was saying. Wasn’t hard, because he liked the sound of her voice.

“There’s been a sharp increase in recent activity linking the Taliban and other terrorist organizations in Afghanistan and the surrounding region to theVenenocartel.”

Zaid didn’t bother hiding his surprise.Venenosworking with the Taliban?

She paused to wait for the agent working the power point presentation to bring up an image of a map detailing smuggling routes in and out of southern and eastern Afghanistan. “The latest intel we have points to theVenenocartel exporting opium from the region in exchange for equipment and arms to various groups, in addition to large amounts of cash. Our agents in Kandahar intercepted a payment of US greenbacks being smuggled across the border in a small convoy of trucks carrying drums of oil. The traffickers empty the barrels, fill the bottom of each drum with opium, and cover it with whatever they think will conceal the drugs.”

Turning slightly, she watched the screen as various images of the recent seizure flicked past. “Once the traffickers get the opium through the Afghan border, they send it to Karachi or another big port city. From there the shipments are sent to labs in Mexico, where it’s cut and added to cocaine and heroin, along with fentanyl.”

Zaid crossed his arms over his chest and took in the big picture. During FAST Bravo’s most recent rotation over in A-stan, they’d spent the entire four months running around after Taliban leaders smuggling opium into Pakistan through the Khyber Pass. There’d been nothing to suggest any links to theVenenos. This was a whole new level of globalization in the drug trade.

“One name that’s come up at various points over the past few weeks is a code name,Víbora.Viper,” she translated, scanning the room with those dark, fathomless eyes.

Their gazes connected for a moment, and in that instant Zaid recognized the timeworn look in them he hadn’t noticed before. Jaliya came off as cool and professional, yet he knew without a doubt that she had seen far more violence and death than anyone should ever have to.

It only made him more curious about her and her background.

“Your analysts here in D.C. have been working on finding out this man’s identity, and now have reason to believe he’s Dillon Wainright.”

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