Page 32 of Out of Control

“Speaking of which, the Air Force fired it. Their guy on the military desk thinks the intel came through their own channels and not through us.”

It was still possible that Kurbaj-Hamza had invited everyone to that meeting and then leaked directly to the American military that he would be there. Great tactic to get the United States to wipe out his enemies for him.

Drago asked, “Any IDs on the survivors?”

“Mostly local warlords. No sign of Kurbaj.”

“He never showed up,” Drago replied bitterly. “Bastard slipped through my fingers. And now that Uncle Sam has taken a swing at him, he’ll go to ground for months or years.”

“Probably,” Charles murmured sympathetically. “Here we go. Newman’s team has been operating exclusively in the Afghan theater recently. No Middle East missions in the past two years. I’ll have to run a separate search to get you names.”

“Dammit.”

“Dray? You need to come in. Make right what you did wrong.”

“I didn’t kill Fayez Khoury, Charles. And I aim to prove it.”

“If I might offer a piece of unsolicited advice? Make sure your proof is watertight. They’re out for blood on this one.”

“Who did I piss off? And what did I do to make someone mad enough to go after me like this?”

“For once, I don’t think it’s your fault. The congressional oversight group seems determined to get all up in our business and interfere in everything the agency does.”

“Politicians poking around is never a good thing.”

“No kidding. Be careful, Drago. Keep your head down, and come in as soon as you can. The longer you’re out in the field, the more you’ll be hanging not only yourself, but also Lieutenant Newman, out to dry.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Any time, man. I’ve always got your back.”

“Same.” Drago ended the call thoughtfully. He and Charles had gone through their CIA training together, and he’d saved Chaz from a beating once. He and Chaz had been off site, having a drink at a local watering hole, and a few drunks took exception with their existence. Charles had popped off, and the meatheads jumped him. Charles steadfastly maintained that Drago had saved his life.

The same way he’d saved Spencer’s life last night.

God, that had been a close call. Had the drunk crew of Israeli kids on the beach not slowed down to mess around, had he not looked back over his shoulder at just the right moment to see trouble brewing, had the two assholes not paused to call Spencer names before they killed him, Spencer would be dead right now.

Drago was used to being around death. Hell, he’d caused some in his day. But the idea of losing Spencer….

Nausea rumbled in his gut, and a chill of dread chattered down his spine.

Too close. That had been way too fucking close a call.

SPENCER THRASHED,his dreams troubled.

Drago was running away from him, and he was frantic to keep up. He couldn’t let the guy slip away again. This was his only chance to be with Dray. If they didn’t make this work, they could never try again. It was all or nothing, right here, right now.

They raced down the beach, Spencer dodging random blows from oversize fists holding a huge knotted club. They came out of thin air, trying to brain him.

Drago’s tradecraft was top-notch, and if Spencer lost sight of him for even a few seconds, he would disappear into the shadows and be long gone by the time Spencer even got close to where he’d slipped away. He fixed his stare on the back of his lover, and no power on earth was going to make him look away.

Drago’s stride stretched out.

Shit, shit, shit.Dray had been a cross-country runner in high school and used to knock out a 10K race every few weeks when he was stationed in America. It wasn’t that Spencer doubted his own fitness or stamina, but Drago was as fast as a rabbit.

Drago raced down the beach, hugging the waterline where the sand was hard-packed from the retreating surf. Spencer grimly kept pace behind him, unable to gain on Drago but managing to stay within a dozen yards. More importantly, he was able to keep eyes on the guy. In full flight, Drago Thorpe was a thing of beauty. His body was superbly fit and perfectly balanced, his muscular legs offsetting the width and power of his upper body.

Eventually Drago slowed. Broke back into a walk, breathing deeply. Spencer pulled up beside him, huffing hard. He made a point of putting his body between Dray and the resorts crowding the beach.

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