Page 2 of Deadly Betrayal
Everything slowed, milliseconds stretchinginto minutes. He heard the crack of a bullet as he lunged into theair. He didn’t know where the bullet was headed, but he knew onething: he wouldn’t let it hit Jake.
Something stabbed him under the arm andseared through his chest. He collided with Jake, sending them bothto the ground. The crate fell from Jake’s arms and the contentsspilled out. Not meds at all.
M16s, dozens of them.
Kaden lay face first on the ground, amid aneruption of chaos. He tried to focus, but the shouts of his men andtheir frantic movements faded and dimmed. Dirt clogged his nose andmouth, every breath pure agony.
Goddamn it. He was going to die for a fuckingcrate of guns.
“Sergeant, you hit?” Jake crawled out fromunder him and flipped him onto his back. “Oh shit, oh shit! Jesus.Fuck. Blood’s coming out of his mouth.”
The men closed ranks around them, raining ahail of gunfire on their enemies as Kaden gasped for air. There wasa scream, and then a patch of sky came into view where Sanchez hadbeen. Something warm and wet splattered across Kaden’s face.
“Sanchez!” Jake shouted.
Kaden tried to clear the dust and stickinessout of his eyes. He had to get up, protect his men. Protect Jake.But his body was dead weight.
The sniper, he had to tell them about thesniper.
Jake started arguing with someone female, avoice Kaden didn’t recognize. Was he speaking Dari? Kaden’s headspun and spots dotted his vision. He tried to blink them away. Whoput the fucking elephant on his chest?
A face appeared in his fading vision. Abeautiful woman with eyes like the bluest sky and lips red asrubies. “Am I dead?” he asked her.
Concern in her eyes, she touched his face.Was she an angel? Christ, he hoped so. But with his luck, she wasprobably the devil in disguise.
Chapter 1
Present
Kabul, Afghanistan
“Azitajan, don’t let them takeme!”
The girl’s screams cut stripes down AzitaSeraj’s spine. She raced down the hall, chasing after KhalidMullazai, her late husband’s brother, as he dragged his niece Lailato the front door, where several rough-looking men waited.
“Kaka Khalid, please don’t send me away,”Laila pleaded with her uncle.
“Agha Khalid, what is going on?” Azitaasked.
Khalid ignored her as he continued tostruggle with the girl. Pausing, he rubbed a hand over his foreheadas though his head pained him. She couldn’t suppress theuncharitable thought that it served him right for causing such acommotion so early in the morning.
“Laila is engaged, and these men areescorting her to her fiancé’s village for the wedding.”
“Engaged?” Azita cried, whirling around asLaila’s mother Freba exited the room the three of them shared. Inthe two years since marrying Faroukh, Azita had grown close to herhusband’s first wife and their only daughter. Seeing the woman’spale face and the tears shining in her eyes, Azita gentled hertone. “Frebajan, our husband would not have approved ofthis. Laila is only eleven.”
Before Freba could speak, Khalid’s arm shotout, tugging the woman to his side. “Help me with Laila,” heordered.
Her heart pounding, Azita sprinted ahead andblocked the passageway with her body. “Agha Khalid, please stop.Surely you cannot be serious. Who is this fiancé?”
He rubbed his forehead again. “Azitakhanom, we will speak of this later.” His tone wasclipped.
She tried again. “It isharamto letFrebajanand Lailajanbe alone with these men. Willyou be accompanying them?
“You do not have to remind me what isforbidden. Uncle Afrooz is travelling with them.” Male voices rosein the hallway, one of which she recognized. “Ah, there he is now,”Khalid said, visibly relieved.
“Agha Khalid, this is not right.” Azita kepther voice low to avoid further alarming the weeping girl.
“Khan Tariq is a favorable match—”
