Page 33 of Coup De Grâce
The woman stood and started frantically arguing with the man in Arabic. She was afraid, terrified that I was here to destroy more of their country. And worse, that by me being here, someone would accuse her or her family of aiding in the plot to kill President Codi.
Every minute I stayed, I was putting their family in danger. So, even though my instincts were screaming at me not to open my mouth, I just couldn’t add to their terror.
“The target was Al-ahmar.”
Both of them went silent, slowly turning to face me with what appeared to be relief.
“I don’t know who took the shot and killed President Codi. But now I’m trapped. My team abandoned me here, and if I don’t get out, I’m as good as dead. But I swear to you, I did not take that shot.”
The man strode back over, pulling up a chair. “You work for CIA.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then who?”
“Who is not important. We know who Al-ahmar is. He may appear to be reformed, but we know the damage he’ll cause. And now that he’s escaped assassination, his power will only grow.”
He shoved out of his chair and strode over to the rifle, picking it up. He shoved it in my face, though I couldn’t grab it with my hands tied. “You will finish the job.”
I shook my head instantly. “No, I can’t. I have to get out of here. If I don’t escape now, I never?—”
“I will help you. There are tunnels. I will get you out.”
“You don’t understand,” I gritted out, trying to explain myself. “When I failed to take the shot, my team turned on me. I have to leave now.”
He shook his head again, pushing the rifle at me once more. “You will finish the job you came here to do. Then, I will get you out. I swear it. You must kill Al-ahmar.”
“I don’t have a team. I don’t know where he will be,” I stressed. “And now that President Codi has been killed, his security will be tighter.”
But no matter how much I explained, this man refused to back down. The hope on his face was impossible to ignore. These people lived in absolute terror every day.
“Please,” he said quietly.
It was already too late for me to get across the border. If I wanted to get out, I would need his help. It seemed I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was the closest thing I had to a friend right now.
“Do you know where he’ll be?”
“I will find out.” His face lit with hope. It was something I recognized all too well from my military days. Either people were hopeful you were in their country, willing to help them, or they were terrified of the implications—the possibility that our actions would only make their lives worse.
But if he helped me, that would put his entire family in danger. He had to realize that.
“You do realize what this will mean for you,” I stressed, narrowing my eyes at him, hoping I wouldn’t have to spell it out with his family right there.
He gave a tight nod, glancing over at his family for only a moment. “I do, but it will be so much worse if he is alive.”
There was really nothing more I could say. If he was willing to risk everything to help me, I would do the same. Even though it had nothing to do with my original objective. Even though it might ruin everything for me. If there was a chance it would work, I had to take it.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
Ibrahim led me through a tunnel,hurrying along as if he traveled this way on a daily basis. With my rifle slung over my shoulder, I was prepared for what we were about to do, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t making my gut churn.
“He is to make an appearance today. It might be our only chance.”
I had to trust that Ibrahim had gotten the correct intel. If I was caught, there would be no escaping this country.
We came out through a hidden door in a shop, and when Ibrahim was sure it was clear, he waved me out. The shop looked abandoned, but that didn’t mean no one was watching. He led me to the back and up a set of stairs that wound higher until we reached the roof of the building. For miles, all you could see were shops scrunched together and sand.
I was already sick of the desert and I’d only been back a few days. There was a reason they called this the sandbox, and it wasn’t because it was fun to play in. Even with the material wrapped around my face, I could still feel the sand biting at the skin around my eyes. I fucking hated it over here.
