Page 101 of Enemy Within
“I think that would be a mistake, Lieutenant.”
Adam spun, pointing his rifle to another new arrival, a man stepping from the shadows in the back of the room. Fuck, there were more of them. How many of Madigan’s men were there?
He recognized the new man immediately: Captain Ryan Cook. Madigan’s hand-picked right-hand man. The Butcher of Baghdad. The new one, after Saddam. He’d made a name for himself in the ranks. Official estimates put the number of Iraqis and Arabs he’d murdered at just over three hundred. Unofficial chatter and barracks gossip tripled that.
Cold sweat broke over Adam. His heart raced, blood pounding loud enough to drown every thought but one as his vision went rage-red. All he saw was Cook and the hostage he held.
The barrel of Cook’s weapon dug into Faisal’s temple, and blood dripped from the corner of Faisal’s mouth, down his chin. One eye was bruised, turning black. His mind screamed, over and over.He’s got Faisal. He’s got Faisal. Not Faisal. No.
“Let him go,” Adam growled. A note of pleading had crept into his voice.
The front entrance to the station banged open. Boots thundered toward the main room. Adam’s gaze darted to the entrance, but he kept his rifle fixed on Cook.
Six men in arctic gear stormed into the station. More of the soldiers who had fled with Madigan from South America. He picked out each of their faces. Recalled their service records. Special Forces. Weapons specialist. Interrogator. Commander of a black site.
One of the men had Doc, shoving him forward until Doc fell to his knees with his hands laced behind his head. He’d been beaten. One eye was swollen shut. His lip was split, and his teeth were stained with blood. Another man dragged Wright in by his uniform and threw him face-down to the deck. Wright didn’t move.
“Drop your weapon, Lieutenant,” Cook ordered. “We have your men. We have your lover.” He grasped Faisal behind the neck and shoved him to his knees, digging his weapon against Faisal’s skin. “You’re ours.”
“Fuckyou!” Adam spat. “I’m not fucking yours. I’ll never join you.”
Cook looked him dead in the eye, grinned, and turned his weapon to Ruiz. He squeezed the trigger.
The blast echoed through the room, a single shot that slammed into Ruiz’s neck. His body jerked, and blood arched in a short spray, then pooled on the table beneath him and dripped to the floor. So much blood, flooding from Ruiz, fleeing his body. He bled out, gone in seconds.
“Stop! Stop!” Panic seized Adam, clawed at his heart. He saw Coleman’s eyes slip closed. Heard the rasp of Doc’s breathing. Where was Park? Kobayashi? Had Cook killed them too? How many more of his team would be murdered?
Cook turned his weapon back to Faisal, pushing the barrel into his cheek as he grasped Faisal’s chin, holding him from behind. “It’s been a long time since I’ve murdered an Arab,” Cook purred. “Do you know how much I love killing Arabs? Their blood is so sweet. I swear, it smells like oil. Oil and cold hard cash. Like fucking roses to me. God, I love the smell of a dead Arab.” One thumb stroked over Faisal’s face, lewdly. It pushed into Faisal’s mouth, forcing his jaw open. Cook jammed his weapon between Faisal’s lips. “I’ve never killed a prince before.”
“Stop! Jesus fucking Christ, stop!” Tears blurred Adam’s vision, but he kept his gaze locked on Faisal. Faisal stared back, not blinking. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The mission wasn’t supposed to go sideways like this, his team picked apart and murdered at a ghost station, miles away from Madigan. Have their legs cut out from beneath them before they even started? He wasn’t supposed to watch his people die.
Ethan’s words, seemingly from so long ago, came back.Stay away from Cook, Adam. Stay the fuck away from him. I mean it.
I’m so fucking sorry.His eyes slid closed as he dropped his rifle and threw it to the side. It clattered, the plastic hitting the bare flooring of the station like a guillotine falling. “Don’t kill my people,” he choked out. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t fucking hurt them.”
COOK HAD HIS MEN secure Adam’s team in the center of the station under guard. Four of his men went back outside while Cook took Adam down the hall. He explained what Adam needed to do, the price he had to pay to keep his men alive.
Adam closed his eyes. His whole life, every choice he’d made, narrowed to this point, this moment. Every decision, every compromise he’d made within himself. From agreeing to bring Faisal on his mission to accepting Ethan’s mission back in Tampa. Back, further, to when he’d taken over the team, and they’d gone to Ethiopia on a simple support mission for a presidential visit. And further than that, to the night he’d met Faisal, the first moment he’d laid eyes on him and his heart had imploded, like a star going supernova.
Ethan, forgive me. If you were in my shoes, what would you do? I’m not strong enough to face this. “I’ll do it,” he rasped. “But, I need to see Faisal first.”
“You aren’t making any demands. You’ll do this, or we’ll put a bullet in your prince’s head.”
“I’ll do anything you want.” Adam held up his hands, trying to reassure Cook. “Anything.Just,please.Let me see him. Only him.”
Cook stared at him, a flat, level gaze. Adam had looked into the eyes of mass murderers and terrorists, killers who dreamed in blood and rejoiced in death. Even those men, evil men with hearts of darkness, had something in their gaze. A spark of life, some evidence of a soul. Gazing into Cook’s eyes was like staring into the abyss, into a black scream that swallowed his heart. His bones itched, and all he wanted to do was run, get away, escape under his bed like he was five years old. The fear he felt was primal, an animal’s instinct to escape a predator. Almost like Cook wasn’t even a man.
Reaching out, Cook grasped him by the throat and hauled him back to the main room. Adam held Cook’s wrists as he struggled to breathe, tripping as he stumbled behind him.
Cook threw him down beside his team in the center of the room. The tables had been cleared out, and two of Cook’s men, soldiers from the SOCOM base in South America, had their weapons trained on his team. Wright lay on the deck, his head in Doc’s lap. His breathing was shallow, and he seemed woozy. Coleman kneeled beside Doc, supporting him. His jaw was chiseled from hardened granite, clenched so hard Adam thought he heard teeth cracking. Neither man looked at Adam.
Faisal was the only one who crawled to Adam’s side and pulled him off the floor. Adam climbed Faisal’s arms, pressed their bodies together. He grasped Faisal, held him close, and buried his hands in Faisal’s hair as he breathed in beneath the angle of his jaw. “Faisal, I’m so sorry.”
“What have you done, Adam?”
He shook his head, keeping his face buried in Faisal’s skin. Breathed in Faisal’s scent, the spices, the sweetness. God, how he loved Faisal, every part and piece of him. Every curve, every plane of his body. How had he thought he could ever live without him? “I’ll do anything to keep you alive. You, and my team.”
“But—”
