Page 31 of Lethal Pursuit

“No. I’m going to let the PJ do what he can for her. It will be a show of mercy, and if she lives, it will help our cause with the others. If she dies, you’ve lost whatever advantage she brought us.”

She wasn’t going todiefrom what he’d done to her. “I didn’t beat her that badly,” Khalid protested. “I made sure of it.”

“You lost control,” Rahim accused flatly. “And I’ll bet you weren’t even aware of it until you saw her just now.”

Unease curled inside him. Had he lost control? At first he’d tempered the blows, trying to wear her down bit by bit. But once he’d started lashing her with his belt, his memory became fuzzy. “I had to break her will in order to use her against the others.”

“And in doing so, you’ve hardened their will against you. Now is the perfect time to show mercy.”

Strange how he’d just had a conversation about that with Mohammed this morning.

Rahim sighed and folded his arms across his chest, mimicking the same stance as Jihad. Individually they were very intimidating. Together, they made for an imposing display of power and authority. One that made Khalid’s heart rate accelerate. “This is about your past.”

Khalid stiffened in shock, unable to form a response. Mortification crawled through him. Just how much did Rahim know?

One side of the man’s mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “You seemsurprised. Don’t be. I know the secrets of every man in my circle, no matter how dark or distant. I was warned about your temper. Don’t make me regret my decision to overlook it.”

Khalid’s hands balled into fists. How dare anyone say such things about him. Who had done it? Nasrallah? One of Nasrallah’s men? “My past has nothing to do with this.”

Rahim raised one coppery brow in silent dispute. “I think it does. You still carry the anger and shame of your upbringing and have not yet learned how to control it. That is something you need to do immediately if you want to continue performing operations for me. I won’t risk failure because one of my men doesn’t know how to control himself.” His cool blue eyes seemed to look deep inside Khalid, finding the lonely and angry young boy he’d once been. “You’ve executed this operation extremely well up until this point, and I’m willing to give you another chance.”

Khalid exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, embarrassed that he’d been chastised this way, resentful of the way his cheeks flushed. What did Rahim know of that kind of shame? Of being an aberration, hated by the entire village because his mother had traded her body for food from some Russian soldiers to keep her starving family alive during one bitter winter? He was grateful for the semidarkness that hid his reaction. Finding his humility wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. “I understand. Thank you.”

Rahim picked up the flashlight and motioned for him to start moving. “Bring me what medical supplies you have. Jihad will take them to the prisoner and let the PJ do what he can. Then he’ll stay to observe your future interrogations with the other prisoners.”

More blood rushed to his face, pulsing in his ears in a dim roar. He did not require supervision. He wasn’t a misbehaving child. Clenching his hands into fists, he made himself nod. “If that is your will.”

“It is. I cannot risk you losing your temper again and killing the Secretary of Defense. I need his information and a recorded statement, Khalid. This sort of opportunity only happens once. I intend to capitalize on it.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Rahim to carry out the interrogations himself from now on then. Self-preservation made him choke the words down. “Andhow do you suggest I get that from him?” he demanded, an edge to his tone.

Rahim didn’t bother casting a glance at him as he walked back through the opening, where Jihad had pulled the carpet aside. “Any way you can, short of injuring him to the point that he can’t give the statement. And believe me, if you cross the line again, I’ll know.”

* * *

JACKSON LIFTED HIShead when the men came back down the corridor. Only two this time, Rahim and that other guy, probably a bodyguard. He carried something in one hand—a large bag. No freaking way. They were actually bringing him medical supplies?

He remained where he was, not daring to believe it until Rahim hunkered down in front of the cell door once more. “I’ve brought you what we have. Jihad will take off those flex cuffs and give you fifteen minutes with her. After that, you and Secretary Haversham are going to have a little talk with Khalid.”

Jihad? Nice fucking name,asshole.Jackson made sure his expression gave nothing away, doing his best to ignore the cold knot of dread in his gut. He stared at the bridge of Rahim’s nose as he’d been trained, giving the impression he was making eye contact while decreasing the risk of displaying emotion.

“And don’t do anything stupid. Jihad is former ISI, partially trained by us—you,” he amended with pleasure. “If you try to escape he’ll kill you. Is that clear?”

Jackson nodded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to escape even if he did kill Jihad and Mohammed before they raised the alarm. A suicide mission would endhiscaptivity but would make the others’ much worse. And part of him feared that Maya would give up if he died.

Rahim pushed to his feet and said something to Jihad in Pashto. The big man unlocked the cell door and motioned for Jackson to approach. Jackson’s muscles tensed, a surge of adrenaline whipping through his body. He stood, bending at the waist to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. Following their commands went against every ingrained instinct, but what choice did he have? If it meant being able to help Maya, he’d do damn near anything they wanted.He just hoped he didn’t seem too eager.

The muscles in his arms bunched as Jihad took his bound wrists and cut the zip tie with a sharp knife. One snick, and his hands fell apart. He shook them, relieved when the burning pain seared his skin because it meant the blood was flowing again. Jihad motioned with his head for him to follow and Jackson did, shuffling awkwardly with his bound feet. He ducked through the low cell door and waited while the other man unlocked Maya’s cell. His heart was pounding when he at last stepped inside.

“Mohammed,” Rahim said, and the boy scrambled over from where he’d been sitting against the wall. He held the lantern up, providing more illumination as Rahim spoke. “Jihad has some medical training. He’ll help you if you need a hand.”

It was too bizarre to hear the most-wanted terrorist on the planet talking to him in perfect American English.

“Do what you can to make her comfortable. They’ll report to me on her injuries after I’m gone.” With that he walked away, his footsteps retreating into the darkness beyond the glow of the lantern.

Jackson clenched his jaw as he waited for Jihad to set the medical stuff down and shine the flashlight on Maya. Make her comfortable? Was that asshole serious?

Smothering the anger boiling up to the surface, Jackson kneeled beside Maya and set a hand on her right shoulder, careful to hide his feelings for her. “I’m going to help you.”

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