Page 110 of Deadly Betrayal
This was not good.
Despite all the hardships she’d endured inthe almost three decades of her life, Azita had never before feltso completely helpless. The man she loved was trapped inside awarlord’s encampment, whether dead or alive, she had no idea. Andwhat was she doing about it?
Nothing.
That was going to change. This time, she wastaking matters into her own hands. She would save her man. Therewas only a brief window before the fighting reached the fence,before her choices were taken away.
Pulling Laila down with her, she rejoinedFreba. “I need both of you to listen. Stay here behind the rocks.”She glared intently at Laila. “I will be back as quickly as I can.”How she would accomplish her goal, she did not know.
“If you are in danger, or if more than anhour passes, run deeper into the trees. Keep your scarves over yourfaces. No one must see Laila.”
“And you, Azitajan? What will youdo?” Freba asked.
“I am going to help.” Nothing would stop herfrom reaching Kaden, from warning him that the passage under thefence was no longer a safe exit. From doing everything she could toensure he did not die in this hellhole, this fight that was nothis.
Because it couldn’t end like this. TheChinese had a saying that when a person saved a life, that lifebecame that person’s responsibility. She accepted herresponsibility wholeheartedly. There was too much she had to say tohim, to share with him, her big blond hero.
Kaden would not be killed on her watch.
An explosion rocked Khalid’s room. Tariqstumbled and caught himself against the wall. The blasts had beengoing on for a few minutes, each one getting closer, while he andthe American had remained at a standoff, guns pointed at eachother’s chests. Where were the guards? Tariq needed an immediateupdate on the situation in his camp.
One-handed, he redialed Ishaq’s phone number.His brother had already rallied the men; he could hear thefighting. What he wanted to know waswhothey werefighting.
“You soldier?” Tariq asked the American inbroken English. The man wore no uniform, his hair was longer thanhow he’d seen the Western military wear their hair, and he didn’thave the ever-present dog tags the American troops favored. Thatdidn’t mean he wasn’t a covert operator.
“None of your fucking business.”
“Tell me now,” Tariq shot back, switching toDari. He hated speaking anything other than his native Pashto, butDari was better than English.
“You’re in no position to make demands,” theAmerican said, hitching up his weapon.
Khalid cleared his throat. “He is formermilitary. Lives in Canada now.”
“A bodyguard, for the movie star?” Tariqpushed.
“None of your fucking business.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. I saw photos of youwith him, so don’t try to deny it. There was a third man with you.Another bodyguard?
“None of your—”
“Yes, yes. I know.” Tariq chuckled dryly,thinking again how he could have used a man like this to lead hismilitia. The situation wasn’t funny, though. His bride-to-be wasmissing, and someone was attacking his people.
Khalid spoke up again. “You are correct, KhanTariq. The other man is a bodyguard too. I know. I saw them.”
The American arched a brow. “So you’reworking for the warlord now? How the mighty have fallen.”
“I work for the Minister of Mines andPetroleum,” Khalid said, each word infused with haughtysuperiority.
Tariq had half a mind to shoot him. He pushedoff the wall and clapped Khalid on the shoulder. “That’s what welet him believe.” Khalid scowled and opened his mouth to protest.Tariq dug his fingers deep into the connective tissue at the ballof Khalid’s shoulder, only relenting when the man snapped his mouthshut. Khalid had to learn to take orders or he’d be of no use tohim.
“Go look out the window. I want to knowwhat’s going on.” He shoved Khalid out of his chair. Ignoring thepolitician, the American kept his gun trained on Tariq. Wise man.He knew who held the power.
Khalid dragged his chair over to the windowand climbed up. Carefully, he peered over the ledge. “Fire iseverywhere.” He turned around. “We must—” His words were cut off bythe whiz of a bullet shattering the glass. Khalid screamed andjumped off the chair, landing in a crouch.
The bullet embedded itself in the wall nearthe door. The American never wavered. He might as well have beenmade of stone.
Forcing a calmness into his voice to matchthe American’s, Tariq asked, “How do you suppose this willend?”
