Page 86 of Enemy of My Enemy
Beating Doc at basketball always took his mind off Faisal, at least for the game. He kicked Doc as he passed through Faisal’s sunroom, knocking his feet off the ottoman and waking him from a nap. Doc cursed and chased him to the courtyard, where Adam stripped off his T-shirt and dribbled the ball between his legs. Doc charged as Adam made a layup, twisting out of Doc’s reach.
“All right,” Doc said, cracking his knuckles. “All right. If you want an ass-kicking, I’ll be more than happy to give you one.”
The Arabian sun slowly sank, dusk turning to night, and the courtyard’s lights winked on. More of the team joined in until it was an all-out war, every man playing all-out.
Adam’s gaze caught on Faisal, standing on the edge of the court and watching with hooded eyes. He froze, and the ball slammed into his chest. He fell to his ass with a grunt, rolling to his back as his team laughed.
Faisal appeared over him. “You all right?”
“Only hurt my pride.” He scrunched up his nose and threw his arm over his eyes.
Faisal said nothing for a moment. “I have something I’d like you to look at.” He held out his hand.
Adam let Faisal pull him to his feet with a groan. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Snickers behind his back made him turn. Some of his men were looking away or staring up at the sky as they whistled. Others, like Doc, grinned and stared at him.
Adam scowled back at his men as a flood of terror circled down his spine. God, no. No one could know. Not ever.
He jogged after Faisal, already back inside the palace. One of the guys started to holler after him, but Coleman’s deep timbre shouting at the Marine toshut the fuck upwashed out whatever was about to be said.
Like a coward, Adam was grateful.
He followed Faisal up to his office. Well, now their office again. Faisal had rearranged everything and added in a desk and a dedicated computer just for Adam… just like old times.
It was those kinds of moments that made his deadened heart clench all that much more until it hurt to breathe every moment he was around Faisal.
“You did a great job remembering the intel.” Faisal gestured to the monitors and the images he, Coleman, and Wright had tried to resurrect. Maps, ships, and pictures of President Spiers, Reichenbach, and the Russian government. “Is this a fair approximation?”
Adam pointed to one of the pictures, an oil tanker. “Yeah. That looks like the ship we saw.”
“I wondered if you would recognize it. It’s a coastal tanker. Two years ago, a Yemeni-flagged tanker was hijacked by Somalian pirates in the Gulf of Aden. The Yemenis refused to pay the ransom. The tanker was old and due to be scuttled. Everyone assumed the pirates torched the vessel like they always do when ransoms aren’t paid. It has never been seen again.”
“You think Noah had a picture of the Yemenis’ missing tanker?”
“Madigan disappeared from Somalia into the sea, yes? He’s not floating on the ocean on dinghies and dhows.”
“And a ghost ship would be perfect for him.” Adam groaned. “A mobile base of operations he can take anywhere.” He headed for his computer, calling up a dump file of satellite images Reichenbach had sent their way to the large flat-screen on the wall. The images were everything taken over Somalia and her waters, and the greater Arabian Peninsula and Gulf.
Standing side by side, they watched the satellite images scroll by.
Adam’s gaze kept drifting, though, sliding sideways to Faisal.
Faisal had ditched the long, loose robes and the keffiyeh, and he was back to his designer jeans and slim long-sleeve shirts, the ones that framed his shoulders perfectly and had first made Adam reach for him, years ago. His fingernails dug into his palms, the sting of half-moon bruises stilling him. He forced his eyes back to the satellite images.
Empty patches in the feed, grayed-out zones, filled more than half the screen.
Adam groaned. “How are we supposed to track a ship if we can’t see the entire ocean?”
“It is a large planet, and even your United States doesn’t scan every corner. Your general knows all of the holes inside your country’s intelligence. He’s planned around your weaknesses, every time.”
“He can scoot right off the edges of the map,” Adam grumbled. He made a loose fist and knocked on the flat-screen, over a gray patch of empty imagery. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on his fist. “He’s vanished again.”
Faisal reached for Adam, but lowered his hand, aborting the movement. He stepped closer instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re fighting against a man who knows all of the moves you will make. Who knows weaknesses you don’t even know you have. It’s like fighting your shadow.”
“Like losing to your shadow. I hate this. Always being ten steps behind. All the unknowns. We need a win.”
“You will prevail.”
