Page 11 of Wild Card (The Trident Trilogy 3)

Sarajevo, Bosnia, 1994

Nejra arrived at the abandoned building on the outskirts of Sarajevo exactly at noon. She was nervous but excited. Frankly, she was just glad to be out of her neighborhood. Since the war started, she only made quick trips out to get food and other necessities.

She approached the side door and knocked five times—as instructed. A tall, skinny man with dark hair and glasses opened the door. He looked at her but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to speak first. Her contact hadn’t told her that. He continued to stare.

“My name is Nejra Custovic—”

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside. “Never use your surname. My name is George. I’ll be your main contact while you’re working with us.”

From his accent, Nejra knew he was American. She followed him through the back halls until they arrived at a conference room. There were three people in the room—two women and a man—staring at computer screens. Like George, they were dressed and groomed conservatively.

Nejra was relieved. She expected the worst when she heard she would be working with Americans. She only knew what she saw in movies—brash men and wild women. These people looked nothing like what she expected. They appeared as conservative as she was.

“George,” one of the computer people said. “The team just arrived.”

“Thanks,” George said, motioning Nejra toward the door. “Nejra, I want you to meet them. These are the men you’ll be working with the most closely.”

She nodded and smiled—following him out to the main foyer of the building. When they turned the corner, she stopped so suddenly that she almost lost her balance. Standing before her were six enormous men. They had long hair and scraggly beards. Most of them were wearing short-sleeved T-shirts that revealed a myriad of tattoos trailing down their arms. They had rifles slung across their bodies and pistols at their waists.

“This is Nejra. She’s our translator,” George said. “She speaks about every language, so she’ll be valuable. Nejra, you don’t have to remember their names, but they’re Chase, Mack, Harry, Clem, Jag, and Mick.”

She nodded to the team—trying desperately not to show her unease with their virile appearance. The only men she saw regularly were her brother and his friends. They were very tidy, small men. These men looked like wild beasts to her. One of them lifted his T-shirt to wipe his face, revealing his bare stomach. Nejra looked away quickly. She thought she might faint out of extreme embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Chase said, taking a few steps toward her. “Your main contact will be Mack. When we need to get information out of someone, he’s our go-to guy. You can translate for him.”

Chase motioned toward Mack who took a step forward.

“Ma’am,” Mack said, smiling warmly at her. “Thank you for being here. I’m afraid I only speak English.”

“And you barely speak that,” Clem said, laughing.

Mack shook his head as he looked over at Clem. He glanced back at Nejra and smiled again to try to make her feel more comfortable. He couldn’t help but notice how anxious she looked. “I’ll try to keep up with you, ma’am,” he said, looking at her gently. “Let me know if I can do anything for you.”

She smiled back at him slightly as she turned around to follow George across the room. Mack watched her walk away. She was probably only five, four with a very slight build. Her clothes were too big for her. She looked uneasy in them. She left the top two buttons of her shirt open. Mack guessed by the way she was pulling at her collar that she was uncomfortable with that decision. She had her long, brown hair pushed behind her ears, causing her big, dark green eyes to jump out of her face. She was beautiful, but her eyes—like the rest of her—looked tired. He could tell the war had been hard on her.

Nejra looked back at Mack and was surprised when she saw him still looking at her. He looked away quickly and followed the team into their ready room to unpack. She watched him walk away. He was slightly taller than the rest—probably a little over six feet. He had bushy dark red hair and a long, scraggly beard to match. His eyes were green but much lighter than hers. They were almost the color of the lemongrass tea her mother used to make before the war. He looked older than her, except when he smiled and his eyes sparkled like a mischievous teenager. Nejra liked when he smiled. It had made her feel a little less uneasy. Despite his almost dangerously masculine appearance, she felt instantly comfortable with him.

“Nejra.” She turned around to see George looking at her. “You’ll go out with the team tomorrow. Mack can get you ready today.”

“Get me ready?” she said slowly.

“Download you on the operation—tell you what to expect,” George said, eying her cautiously. “Get you fitted for a protective vest and helmet.”

Nejra’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought she was going to leave this building.

George took a step toward her. “Didn’t you know you were going to work in the field?”

She recovered quickly. “Yes, of course, I did. I didn’t know it would be so soon. Where would you like me to work today?”

George led her into an empty conference room. Mack was already seated at the table. He stood up when she walked in and pulled out the chair next to him, smiling warmly again and motioning for her to sit down. Nejra paused for a second as a warm sensation rushed through her body.

Mack pushed her chair in as she sat down—being very careful not to touch her. He saw her panicked look when George walked out, leaving them alone in the room.

Mack smiled at her again. “I know this is probably difficult for you,” he said quietly. “Please tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable. Would you feel better if someone else was in the room with us?”

She shook her head as she looked deeply into his gentle eyes. She thought she could probably get lost in them forever.

“I know I look rough,” Mack said, laughing softly, “but you’re safe with me. I promise. I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Just talk to me and let me know if something’s not working for you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said as he turned his laptop screen to her.

As Mack explained what her duties would be, she thought about what Sayid said—that a man could not be both tough and tender. She told him it was possible for a man to be both. Her body tingled with excitement when she realized she might have just met such a man.

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