Heatseeker (Atrati) (16 page)

Why?

Because the man who had come from Egypt with Abasi Chuma was Jamila’s uncle. Couple that with the fact that her father had just arrived with her in Marrakech, and there could be little doubt the brothers were heavily involved in the criminal organization for which Chuma worked.

That was the biggest revelation. Being able to listen to Chuma and his cohorts interact without censoring themselves made her realize that, unlike what she’d first believed, Chuma was
not
the top dog.

Oh, he was high up in the organization. That was obvious from the way the men who had captured her deferred to him, but he and Jamila’s uncle interacted like equals.

From a couple of comments the two men had made, she surmised they both worked for the same boss. They never named him, which told her two things.

The first, their subordinates didn’t know who the head honcho was. The second, these men were good at and careful about keeping their secrets. It implied that knowledge of who that man was could be dangerous to the man himself.

Why would that be?

Someone important with a stellar reputation? Someone who had connections to government officials and other people of power?

Chuma might have fit those criteria. At first glance. Initially, Rachel had assumed he did. But now that she knew more about him, and now that a new way of thinking about his organization had opened up, it put other observations she’d made during her investigation in a different light.

There was a person in this mix who fit all the criteria—powerful, dangerous, but untouchable—a man Rachel herself had never even suspected as anyone other than someone turning a blind eye to his soon-to-be son-in-law’s questionable activities.

Jamila Massri’s father.

The man might be as innocent as he appeared, but Rachel didn’t generally give men the benefit of the doubt.

Besides, she adhered to the tenet of Occam’s razor: given multiple possible scenarios to explain an outcome, the simplest one was almost always the correct one.

Massri’s future son by marriage and brother worked for the same man. A person they had to contact pretty frequently to do the things they did. Someone with connections who facilitated acquiring privileged information and then sold it to the highest bidder.

Who better than a well-respected doctor with a low-level government appointment that gave him access to those in the know without pointing to him as an obvious person of interest?

She’d been fooled, and it frustrated her.

She’d let herself be blinded by the unassuming-doctor persona Massri used as camouflage. Even his own daughter considered Abasi Chuma more of a “man’s man” than her father.

This discovery, or, rather, deduction, which Rachel’s gut told her was right on, was a huge step forward in TGP’s investigation. Whit was going to be thrilled.

Chills ran straight down Rachel’s spine at the thought. Once Whit found out that Dr. Massri was at the top of the food chain in the organization that her fellow agent Bennet Vincent had uncovered during his operation in Zimbabwe, Whit was going to want Jamila flipped for sure.

No way was Rachel letting that happen. Jamila was already at risk. Setting her to spy on the doctor would increase that risk at least tenfold.

A man who would give his daughter to a man like Abasi Chuma wouldn’t hesitate to kill that same daughter if he discovered she’d betrayed him. Even unwittingly.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Rachel felt terror wash over her at the idea of Chuma discovering his fiancée’s connection to a TGP operative.

Catching and imprisoning Dr. Massri wouldn’t remove the threat to Jamila, either.

Even in prison, men like Massri still had allies on the outside. Allies who could take his revenge on Jamila.

The problem was bigger than just getting Jamila away from Chuma or even out of Africa, for that matter. Somehow, Rachel had to get the other woman to safety without making her a target for Dr. Massri and the unsavory people he worked with.

Rachel was about to turn off the verbal feed and go call Kadin when something Chuma said to Jamila’s uncle caught her attention. Taking quick notes, she tried to understand what they were talking about and its significance.

Because the change in both men’s tones indicated that whatever they were discussing was of some importance. That none of the other men was in the room at the time also pointed to its being of interest.

She highlighted the short discussion in the printout of the recording, correcting a few words the voice-to-text software had gotten wrong, just as she’d been doing all along.

This time felt more important than changing a
womb
to
woman,
though.

Planting the bugs in the hotel room went without a hitch; Abdul’s operative reported back to Kadin with an all-clear not fifteen minutes after going into the building. Spazz had said he would wait to activate the listening devices remotely until thirty minutes after Dr. Massri and his daughter checked in to the hotel.

That way, if the rooms were swept for bugs upon the Massris’ arrival, at either his or Chuma’s order, the tiny devices would not register.

Kadin knew that Rachel wasn’t entirely convinced of Dr. Massri’s involvement in Chuma’s criminal activities, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared, regardless. And underestimating the caution of those they were gathering intel on wasn’t something either he or his team made a habit of.

Jamila and her father checked in to the hotel, and not long after, Dr. Massri left her there. Cowboy followed the doctor to a large house outside the city, where he remained until nearly midnight.

Dr. Massri returned to the hotel long after his daughter had gone to bed, having eaten a solitary dinner in her room. Jamila had spent the evening online and then watching a documentary on the migration pattern of birds.

Exciting stuff.

When it became apparent that Dr. Massri had no plans further than going to bed himself, Kadin spoke to Cowboy through their communication earbuds. “Back to the safe house.”

“Roger that.”

It was a thirty-minute walk, and they arrived, from different directions, within a couple minutes of each other.

Kadin knew he should check in with his team first, but he made a beeline for the room he shared with Rachel. He needed to see her sleeping safely in the bed.

Of course, it was empty, and unless Rachel made the bed with the same precise folds as did Abdul’s wife, she hadn’t so much as napped in it in the last sixteen hours.

A growl of frustration on his lips, Kadin double-timed it back downstairs and to Spazz’s command center.

Chapter Eleven

S
ure enough, Rachel was there, going over something with Spazz. Cowboy was watching them surreptitiously while he shot the shit with Peace.

“Where’s Eva?” Kadin barked, because saying what he wanted would just send Rachel into one of her snits.

He wasn’t prepared to deal with that just yet, no matter how much he usually enjoyed doing so.

“Sleeping, Trigger, like dat
wahine
should be doing.” Peace indicated Rachel with a nod of his head, his attention split between them and the earbud feeding him information from Spazz’s listening devices.

Kadin let out another growl, this time glaring at Rachel’s back. She hadn’t even bothered to turn around when he came in.

“She be one stubborn
wahine,
Trigger. Eva be dat pissed wid her.”

Peace never hid his Hawaiian origins, but the accent got thicker when he was making a point.

“Rachel,” Kadin barked, deciding he didn’t have a choice but to deal with her snark.

The woman needed rest.

She turned then, her eyes wide, as if she had no idea what had him so irritated.

“Save it,” he warned her. “You told me you were resting.”

“I was resting.”

He just glared.

“I took the extra laptop to the roof garden and relaxed on one of the big sofas while listening to the recordings.”

“You were only supposed to listen for a couple of hours at a time.”

Her snort just pissed him off more.

“You ignored Eva’s medical advice,” he accused.

Rachel shrugged. “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve checked out of a hospital against medical advice.”

Hell. He didn’t want to know how many times her job had put her
into
the hospital, but he couldn’t stop himself asking. “How many?”

This time her clear blue eyes widened in genuine surprise, as if she couldn’t believe he’d asked. Neither could he, but he wanted an answer.

“That’s really not important right now, is it?”

“Spazz?”

“Yeah, Trigger?”

“How many times?”

The sound coming out of Rachel was something between a shriek and a growl, muted by her still-tender voice box. “You are not seriously asking him to stop important research to hack into my medical file.”

“I won’t be. If you answer me.”

“Well, now, maybe dat stubborn
wahine
met her match now,” Peace said with satisfaction as he wrote something on the tablet computer in front of him.

Rachel’s frown at the Hawaiian soldier was lost on him as his focus remained on what he was hearing. When she turned the expression to Kadin, it went sulfuric. “Seriously, you’re going to make an issue out of this now?”

“You brought it up.”

“Not because I thought you’d actually care.”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me that you believe you do,” he said with more force than current conversation warranted.

“Four, all right? Sheesh!” She turned away from him.

But he was not done with this.

“You were in the hospital four times?” he demanded in a voice he barely recognized as his own.

What the hell had she been doing to herself over the past ten years?

“Yes,” she flipped over her shoulder. “You want details?”

Oh, the sarcasm was just dripping.

“I do.” His tone was nothing but pure demand.

“Forget it.”

“Spa—” Kadin didn’t even get the other man’s name out before Rachel was spinning around again, this time fire shooting from her pale eyes.

She crossed the distance between them in three quick strides and poked him right in the center of the chest. “You are being an ass. We have important stuff going on here.”

“And you can get right back to it after you answer my question. You’re just taking more time arguing with me,” he pointed out reasonably.

“I had my appendix out the year after you dumped me. I got knifed on one of my first cases, but I made the damn collar.” She ticked each incident off on her fingers. “I took a bullet to my right thigh on that case I told you about.”

“Shit.”

She smiled grimly. “Don’t worry, there was no lasting damage. It was a through-and-through.”

A serious thigh wound would have required physical therapy and a hell of a lot of recovery time. “That’s three,” he ground out.

“I ended up in the ER dehydrated with the flu last year.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I collapsed in the canned-soup aisle at three in the morning, and they called an ambulance instead of waking me up.” She sounded as if she thought the store clerk had overreacted.

“What were you doing in the grocery store at three in the frickin’ morning?”

“Buying chicken noodle soup. What else?”

And then he understood. This woman he’d thought would grow up to be a nursery school teacher, surrounded by her own family and those of her pupils, was completely alone.

She had no friends close enough to take care of her when she was sick. No one to even notice she was too ill to be on her own. No man to give her the babies she’d wanted so much when they were together ten years ago. No family to care if she showed up for Sunday dinner.

“Where is your grandmother?”

“In a nursing home. She has Alzheimer’s.”

Kadin’s heart broke to hear precisely how alone Rachel had been. “When was the last time you spoke to her?” he asked gently.

“At Linny’s funeral. It was pretty much the last time she was able to make sense. I’ve visited her, but . . .”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? After ten years? You even care? Get real.”

“I am.”

“Fine. You’re sorry. Now get off your ass and help me save Jamila Massri.”

“I am doing my best,” he practically yelled. He’d just spent sixteen hours on surveillance detail.

“Do better!” There was no
almost
about the volume coming out of her throat.

“She’s sleeping, like you should be.”

“I’ll sleep when she’s safe.”

Shit. He just knew Rachel was going to say something stupid like that. And, worse, mean it. “She’s safe right now.”

“For how long?”

That wasn’t an answer Kadin had, and the look on Rachel’s face said she knew it.

He took a deep breath, regrouping, and only then realized that everyone in the room was staring at him and Rachel with varying degrees of shock. Eva stood in the doorway, her hair sticking up at odd angles, revealing that she’d just gotten out of bed, her expression indicating she’d witnessed the argument between Rachel and Trigger.