Page 118 of Deadly Betrayal
Jake’s lips curled into a rueful expression.“Great. So we’ve both almost killed her. We’re not fit to be aroundsomeone that good, man.”
A lump the size of Rhode Island formed inKaden’s throat. “We’ll get help. As soon as we’re home, I’ll findus a therapist.”
When Jake didn’t respond, Kaden let it drop.There’d be plenty of time to discuss it when they were safe. Andmaybe Azita could help convince Jake that with counseling, he couldmanage the episodes. Hell, he’d been doing a damn fine job of it upto now. Kaden hadn’t even known he’d still been havingproblems.
Brothers didn’t keep secrets. He’d make sureJake came clean with everything, and he’d do the same.
Hoffman sent Hassan and Cooper under thefence, and Jake put his hand to his ear. “Roger that,” he said intothe small communications device before turning to Kaden. “Hoffmansays we can’t wait any more. He’s calling in the rest of theunit.”
Damn. “I’ll tell the ladies.” Kaden slippeddown onto his haunches to find four pairs of eyes fixed on him. “Beready. We’re moving to the pick-up location in a few minutes.”
Azita gripped his arm. “They’ve foundKhalid?”
He shook his head. She’d be disappointed, butHoffman was right. They had to pull out. He’d make the same call ifhe were in charge. Staying any longer could jeopardize the wholerescue.
Her expression lost some of its buoyancy.“Very well. We will be ready.”
“I’m sorry, Azita.” He climbed back up besideJake. Hassan and Cooper were halfway across the field. Kaden lookedfarther out and checked the rooftops for a sniper. Everythinglooked clear.
Hoffman had brought a team of six, notincluding Jake and Hassan. Cooper was with Kaden, Hoffman was atthe meet point. That left Ortiz and three others somewhere insidethe camp.
Another member of the unit, Sullivan, racedup to Hoffman. While the two talked, Hoffman kept checking hiswatch and speaking into his communicator. After a quick glance intheir direction, Hoffman and Sullivan took off at a dead run awayfrom the fence.
Kaden swore and grabbed Jake’s arm. “What’sgoing on? Where the fuck are they going?”
“They’ve spotted Khalid.”
A rifle muzzle digging into his back, Khalidtrudged through the camp. He saw a few dead bodies and severalgutted buildings. Much less death and destruction than he’d haveexpected from a commando-team attack, and that’s clearly what thishad been. Somehow, Azita and that American had mounted a rescueoperation despite being locked in the camp’s infamous hole.
Tariq’s boy seemed to have recovered from hisfather’s chastisement. Khalid wasn’t sure why, although ahigh-powered gun often did much toward raising an adolescent boy’sspirits. Tariq and his son prodded and bullied Khalid into anynumber of buildings. They called Laila’s name, searched insideclosets and behind doors. There was no sign of her. There was alsono sign of the attackers.
Had they taken Azita too?
A dull throbbing started at his templeswhenever he recalled what he’d witnessed between her and theAmerican the previous night. His anger and disgust had beenjustified. What they’d done was wrong. Against the law and theKoran. Azita had been Khalid’s fiancée. No one had the right tolook at her, much less touch her.
But it wasshewho had beentouching the American. Intimately.
They’d just entered another building when awave of nausea nearly brought him to his knees. Tariq shoved him,none too gently, finishing the job. On all fours, Khalid leanedforward and retched. He’d ingested nothing other than a small glassof tea, so all his dry heaving only managed to leave him weak andexhausted.
“Get up,” Tariq ordered.
Khalid grabbed his aching head in his handsand prayed to Allah for guidance. His life was quite literally atthe mercy of a warlord. Whether the man would see enough value inKhalid’s political future to spare him remained to be seen. At thispoint, Khalid wasn’t certain he even wanted to survive. His sidesached from trying to vomit and his chest ached from the loss ofsomething he’d never imagined losing.
For the first time since discovering Azita’sunfaithfulness, Khalid’s anger was outpaced by his regret. Asadness of the heart. What had he done wrong? From the day ofFaroukh’s death, Khalid had treated Azita with respect, allowed herto work. He’d courted her, but in a subtle manner, given hisbrother’s one-year moratorium on marriage.
And yet, the American had won her over in amatter of days. He’d led her to stray from the teachings of theKoran and indulge in sexual acts before marriage. Was the Americaneven interested in a future with her, or had he been using her torelieve an itch while he was in their country?
Or perhaps, it had been Azita’s final act ofdefiance in the face of death? They’d both been prisoners, anddeath was the usual way people left the hole. He fought anotherbout of nausea as the truth became clear: he didn’t want Azita todie.
Tariq kicked him in the side. The blow sentKhalid sprawling. Pain wracking his body, he rolled into a ball,his arms curling to protect his face and head.
“I told you to get up, you lazy sheepherder,”Tariq shouted in his native Pashto. “Was this your plan all along?Keep me occupied while the attackers kidnapped my bride? Should Iexpect a ransom demand?”
“A ransom?” Khalid blurted before he had timeto think better of it. Tariq was well ahead of Khalid in terms ofdeviousness. The thought had never even entered Khalid’s mind.However, now that it did, he could see what a brilliant idea itwas. Tariq had been very public about his marriage to Laila. Theonly way to save face and avoid shaming his family, and Khalid’s byextension, would be to pay the ransom so that the wedding couldproceed.
Unfortunately, Khalid had no idea who theattackers were or where Laila was. He only hoped that both Lailaand Azita were safe.
Tariq hit him on the side of the head withthe butt of his rifle. “Damn you, Khalid. You needed this allianceas much as I did.”
