Page 9 of Covert Vengeance

At the bottom, she found what she’d expect in a place like this.

Cells. Ten of them, two rows of five stacked along the north and south walls.

All of them contained handcuffs and chains anchored into the concrete walls and floor. And judging by the smell of urine permeating the dank air and the spatter of blood she found on the floor of one cell, someone had been here recently.

Then the beam of her penlight illuminated something bright in the corner of the cell. She walked toward it.

Golden blond hair. A pile of it. Long strands, maybe shoulder-length.

Hannah.The fine hairs on her nape prickled.

It had to be her. Was she still alive? Had they disguised her and taken her out of here in the convoy?

Guilt slammed into her, twisting her stomach into knots. This was her doing. Although she hadn’t liked Hannah, when Amber thought of what the woman had probably endured because of her, she felt sick.

At a faint sound from above Amber instantly shut off the penlight and rushed to the base of the stairs, holding her pistol in a double-handed grip. Someone was moving around up there. Maybe more than one person.

From her hiding spot she watched as a soldier appeared in the opening above. He paused, all of him visible in the light, and he seemed to peer down into the dark stairwell.

Amber slowed her breathing and slid her finger onto the trigger. Waiting. Ready.

The man pulled a radio from his belt, announced, “All clear,” in Arabic, then walked off.

She exhaled slowly, waited for his footsteps to fade into silence before ascending the stairs. She was still in the clear, but likely not for much longer. Time to leave.

She rushed up the stairs, checked to make sure she was alone, then raced to the rear door. Cracking it open, she paused to glance outside.

Clear.

She slipped out and raced back the way she’d come, angling across the street and only stopped once she’d reached a different building to hide in a recessed doorway.

Glancing to her right, her heart jolted when she spotted the man standing across the street from her. He stood completely still as he openly watched her, his posture and expression relaxed. But everything about him screamed danger, from his powerful build to his utter stillness and the intensity of that stare.

Who was he? Had he seen her leave the old palace?

She immediately reversed course and headed the other way up the street, subtly reaching beneath her tunic to draw her pistol again. All the while she kept her ears attuned for the sounds of him following her, and scanned her surroundings for other danger.

A single gunshot rang out from the right. Shards of plaster exploded a foot above her head.

Amber ducked around the corner, pressing her back to the rough wall as she risked a glance over to see who’d taken the shot. Not the man who’d been staring at her. The angle was wrong.

Movement in the shadows across the street. She swiveled to face it and dropped to a crouch, her weapon up and ready.

The muzzle flash gave him away as a second shot rang out. Amber returned fire, then got up and ran, unsure whether she’d hit the shooter.

Shouts sounded behind her. She kept running, raced around the corner of the next building and turned left, then zigzagged her way through the streets. Going for her bike now was too risky. She had to find a place to hide until it was safe to go back for it.

Another shot zipped past her, striking a nearby car with a bang that struck sparks. She whirled to return fire and squeezed the trigger. The thin man chasing her grunted and doubled over.

Just as she prepared to squeeze the trigger again, two more shots exploded in the night.

Amber’s steps faltered as the man collapsed to his knees, his chest covered with blood. She darted a glance to the left where the shots had come from and raised her pistol, ready to defend herself.

Shock rippled through her when she recognized the tall man who had been watching her across from the palace. Instead of firing at her he lowered his weapon, his arm loose at his side as he stared at her with a calmness that kept her on edge.

For several heartbeats she held his gaze, weapon ready to fire. Dark eyes. Short, dark hair and goatee. Bronze skin tone.

Who was he, and why was he following her? What the hell was going on?

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