Page 58 of Defenders of Jawhara

“On the satellite images, yes, I believe so. She was sitting astride a donkey, which was being led by someone who fits the build of the young palace guard. Based on additional intel we received from Slade, we believe he is related to Sumari’s former Minister of Foreign Affairs.”

“The man who was assassinated during the coup?” Kamal asked, not liking where his thoughts were heading. On his last visit to the Sumari capital, he had been informed that the Minister of Foreign Affairs had been the ringleader of the small extremist group that had taken responsibility for killing the previous ruler.

The extremists had been attempting to overthrow the current leadership by infiltrating positions of authority within the government. Once their plans had been made known, the more liberal rebels had risen up and eliminated everyone who had aligned themselves with the extremists. Not only had the Minister of Foreign Affairs been assassinated, but several other advisers and the interim ruler had been deposed as well.

The rightful heir to the throne had been released from the prison where he was being secretly held; the public had been told that he had died in an accident. The extremists had been warned to stop their coup attempts or leave the country. Many citizens—liberal, moderate, and conservative—had fled into Jawhara, fearing additional fighting or reprisals.

Kamal hadn’t realized that there were any extremists among the refugees. He intended to find out how that information had escaped his intelligence operatives after Erin was rescued.

Kamal had been furious to find out that his country had been drawn into a religious war, rather than a humanitarian or political one. He had informed the new sheikh that it was up to him to learn to coexist with all his people, no matter their religious beliefs, if he ever wanted to rule in peace.

In an effort to make that happen, an agreement had been reached between the remaining extremists still in the country and the sheikh to allow them to live unhindered by western influences. Either the palace guard imposter hadn’t received that information, or the extremists were still bent on taking over the country.

Talib filled in more details. “The minister’s surname was Bashai. If the palace guard had used his real name, he would have never passed the background check. He was using his maternal grandfather’s name, Hamrin, which is how he escaped scrutiny. His placement in the palace guard was intentional.”

“Extremists.” Kamal didn’t ask, he stated the fact. He recounted to Talib the rumors he’d heard on his last trip to meet with the new leadership. “I was led to believe a peaceful agreement had been reached, but this situation leads me to believe the exact opposite.”

Talib was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “I am wondering if anyone other than the kidnapper and his accomplice in the camp knows he has Miss Malone as a hostage. In the area he was last seen, there is no cell reception, and he was traveling alone.

“The American security team and I have come up with a plan. With your permission, we will go after Miss Malone and bring her home, hopefully before her kidnapper reaches his destination and is able to contact anyone.”

“Do it. Whatever you need, you only have to ask and it is yours. Bring her home to me.”

“I will, Your Majesty. I will.”

5

TALIB

Talib disconnected the phone and then looked up to see PJ and the other five American private contractors watching him, waiting for him to speak. “Sheikh Kamal extends his gratitude for your willingness to help retrieve his fiancée. No demands have been made as of yet, so we must assume that for the moment, the kidnapper is working alone.”

Brett Larson spoke up. “Won’t that change as soon as he crosses the border with her?”

“Maybe. But the closest settlement is fifteen miles inside Sumari, and even there, cell phone reception is almost impossible to rely on. According to information Sheikh Kamal was given on his last trip into Sumari, an agreement had been reached between the extremists and the current ruler. Either our young kidnapper is not aware of that, or the agreement is only a façade. Either way, we need to capitalize on the fact that he is most likely alone at this time. Since we’ve seen no sign of others approaching the border, we can assume he won’t be able to contact whoever he’s working with until he gets to some sort of civilization.”

“So that means we have additional time to find him and retrieve Miss Malone.” PJ didn’t look up as she made the statement; she was already busy looking at the maps.

“PJ,” Talib said, waiting for her to look up at him before he continued. “You are correct in that we now havemaybean additional day before he will be in an area where he can contact others; however, the mountains inside Sumari are riddled with caves. Some of those are rumored to network for miles underground, with booby-traps and safeguards to keep others out.”

Talib looked each man in the eyes before turning his gaze back to PJ. “Our best chance of finding her is to locate them before he goes underground with her.”

Brock Wells offered, “We could send the drones up and locate them that way.”

“Given the open area, it will be too easy to hear and see a drone, and we could end up alerting her kidnapper before we are in place to detain him. We don’t want to push him underground faster.”

“Are there any maps of the tunnels?” PJ asked as she sorted through the maps they had.

Shaking his head, Talib said, “None that I’m aware of. The nomads who use the tunnels regularly have been doing so for generations, and that knowledge is shared strictly through oral storytelling.” Looking around at everyone, Talib continued. “The fact that he has dressed her in the cultural clothing of his people indicates that he might be trying to take her as far as possible in the open—the mountains are good for hiding but slow to travel. That works in our favor.”

“How so?” PJ asked. He could see she wasn’t following his line of thinking.

“If we were to jump ahead of him and backtrack towards Jawhara, we might be able to intercept him before he makes contact with whoever he’s working with.”

“Don’t you think it would be pretty obvious if he were to run into a group of Americans out in the middle of the desert? I mean, we don’t exactly blend in around here.” Brett was looking around at the group of five men and one woman who had traveled halfway around the world to assist Sheikh Kamal.

Talib looked at each man. None of them had Middle Eastern coloring. Carlos Sanchez’s olive complexion was closest to the desert-brown skin of his countrymen. The rest, from redhead Brock Wells to black Tim Morris, had no hope of blending in. Brett and his twin Travis, as well as PJ, were fair and blue-eyed.

Talib nodded. “I agree—even if you looked the part, you’re all too American to pass for locals. What I am suggesting is this…”

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