Page 6 of Stand Fast

The news didn’t alarm him. This sort of thing wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, although it was rare that his network wasn’t able to find out the informant’s identity. “Keep a close eye on it. Find out who he is, and inform me right away.” Either The Jackal had a possible ally or an enemy, and both could prove useful under the right circumstances.

“Yes, sir. But…”

“But what? Find out who the informant is, and then we will know how to best deal with him.” He hung up before the man could answer. He didn’t kill people if he could use them first.

His gaze caught on the framed pictures on his desk. He paused, staring at one in particular of his family.Thiswas the reason he was willing to risk so much. Hope. Life. Things that were nearly impossible to have in this war torn country.

All his life, and for generations before him, the only things his family had known were war and suffering. The only way to secure a stable future for the ones he loved was with money. Lots of it—more than he could ever hope to make in ten lifetimes at his public job. Influence was gained through power, and he’d learned that power came through fear.

He’d become an expert at administering fear over the past few months.

Staring at the beloved faces in the frame on his desk, a fresh surge of resolve swept through him. No matter who he had to kill or betray, no matter how high the cost, he would do whatever it took to make things right.

****

She still had a ton of work to do, but since Jaliya was so hungry she couldn’t take it anymore, she’d decided to run over to the mess hall for a bite to eat. Holding her full dinner tray in both hands, she glanced around the crowded space, searching for a familiar face.

The large building was packed full of tables lined with benches and chairs, a constant buzz of conversation and the clinking of silverware filling the air. Since it was only a few days before Christmas, someone on base had made the effort to make things look a little festive in here with some garland wrapped around the posts and Santa pictures hung here and there. A few people were even sporting fuzzy Santa hats with their uniforms.

The mood was light considering that everyone was far away from their families at this time of year, and surprising since the security on base had been heightened over the past week. On high alert in case any attackers wanted to make a statement during one of the most important dates in the Christian calendar.

Over in the far left corner, one of her team members spotted her and waved her over. Smiling, she started toward the group of DEA agents seated at the table, but her steps faltered when she realized who else was there with them.

The members of FAST Bravo.

They weren’t at Bagram for long stretches of time, usually staying at one FOB or another to be closer to their mission targets out in the countryside. Unless it was a briefing or important meeting of some sort, she didn’t see them. And when theywerehere, the FAST guys tended to keep to themselves in the SOF area of the base, so her path rarely crossed with theirs.

Almost against her will, her gaze was drawn to the broad-shouldered, bronze-skinned man sitting in the middle of his teammates with his back to her. She was still a bit embarrassed that he’d had to be brought in to translate this morning, and annoyed that it had been necessary.

As if on cue, Agent Zaid Khan turned his head to look behind him and his hazel gaze zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile. The instant it did, a funny fluttery sensation tickled low in her belly and her heart did a weird little skip.

He shot her a friendly smile and turned back to his teammates, and somehow that unfroze her. Refusing to acknowledge the way her endocrine system seemed to swoon at the sight of him, she strode for the table and took the only empty spot, next to one of the FAST guys and across from Khan.

She set her tray down and picked up her fork without looking at him. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to and curious about him. From what she’d seen and heard over the past several weeks, he was easy-going, with a good sense of humor.

Though he wasn’t the leader or senior member of the team, he seemed to be the hub of it. She’d seen him hanging out with various members, not just one or two in particular, and from her observations she got the sense that Khan was sort of like the team big brother, who everyone went to for advice.

He was attractive, likeable, smart, and knowing he could handle himself in the face of danger was definitely sexy. The trouble was, she was suspicious that he might be the same guy she’d met via an online dating site a few months ago. How many Zaids around his age could there be, living in D.C. and working for the U.S. government? The odds of that being a coincidence were slim to none.

They’d clicked immediately. She’d been really into him, and after chatting online every day for a few weeks she’d felt close enough to him, safe enough that she had even agreed to set up a date when she was scheduled to come into D.C. next.

But then something he’d said had changed her mind. Little comments here and there, pretty benign on the surface of things, but they sounded too much like something one of the “good Muslim men” her father used to shove at her would say—the ones who disapproved of her views and wanted her to conform to a more subservient and obedient role in the relationship.

They’d been trying to agree on where to meet for the date. He’d named a place, and when she’d asked why he thought he got to call the shots for their first meeting, he typed the kiss of death:I’m a take charge kind of guy.AndI believe the man should wear the pants in a relationship.

Yeah,nothanks.

She’d received the response while waiting to pick up her luggage at Dulles. The comment had smacked of that same kind of male domineering attitude that made her all ragey. Also, if he talked like that early on when he was supposed to be winning her over, what would he be like later on? She’d backed out of the date the night before it was supposed to happen and cut contact with him, because life was too short to waste time on someone who looked like they might be an asshole.

Jaliya didn’t do subservient, and she sure as hell didn’t do obedient. Not unless it pertained to following orders from one of her superiors. And even then, not every time. Unlike her two sisters who were happy to be with men their father had picked for them, Jaliya wanted to go her own way, make her own choices without her father interfering. Especially when it came to her career and love life.

“So, big night tonight, huh?” one of her male colleagues said next to her, shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Yes, sure is.” She forked up a bite of salad—she liked to get that part out of the way so she could enjoy the real food on her tray, which included a slice of chocolate cheesecake she richly deserved—her mind already on the coming op that would happen in a few hours. She’d worked all of her contacts for this one after the meeting with Barakat this morning. If the intel was good, tonight they might finally hit The Jackal and his network where it hurt.

“Love to know what you’re thinking about right now.”

At the sound of that deep voice shaded by a New Jersey accent, she looked up to find Agent Khan looking at her over the rim of a coffee mug, his hazel gaze so intent it brought back that fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. He’d buzzed his almost black hair short, and he had the start of a thick, dark beard now. He was rugged. Sexy. And he radiated an alert kind of confidence she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

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