Authors: Kaylea Cross
Because of him, they had a few trucks, generators, gasoline, a well and chemicals to treat the water, and refrigerators to store food. Yes, they were far better off with him, and that kind of support was exactly why they provided such excellent protection for him. He furnished the means for them to grow their opium poppy crops. The local warlords protected them. Their share of the money from the crops allowed them the weapons to protect, clothe and feed the people. The additional funds Tehrazzi gave them bought their loyalty. Every man, woman and child would die defending him if necessary.
Loyalty was a rare commodity in today's world, he thought bitterly.
That was the lesson he would deliver. He wanted his teacher to feel the bitter sting of betrayal before he killed him. Turning one of his own against him and making him question the loyalty of another repaid his teacher for his original betrayal and the deceit of Tehrazzi's adopted grandparents and his former mentor. Their treachery still pricked him like sharp knives, and even their deaths had not assuaged his anger. Nor would he forget that his teacher had caused the death of his favorite mare, the only living thing Tehrazzi had ever truly loved.
Behind him, his bodyguard sneered in disgust. “These people live like pigs.”
He aimed a glare at him over his shoulder. Assoud was a few inches taller than him, about six-three, and wider through the shoulders. Every inch of him was honed to lethal perfection, not an ounce of fat on his body. His skill with weapons was legendary, as was his lack of conscience when it came to his victims. The perfect killing machine. Tehrazzi had never known anyone to enjoy their work as much as his bodyguard did. The pleasure Assoud received from torturing his victims surpassed even Tehrazzi's religious zeal.
While his services proved useful, Tehrazzi secretly loathed him.
“Do not insult our hosts,” he warned. “We may need them to provide refuge in the coming days.”
Assoud grinned, and the chilling gesture pulled the scar through his chin and lower lip tight. A souvenir from his time at Guantanamo. “Only twenty hours left until the first deadline.”
Tehrazzi turned away to cover an annoyed frown. His bodyguard was like a feral pet, one he could only control with money and by allowing him to do his gruesome work. Assoud was not the same quiet, devout man he had known in Beirut years ago. When the Americans had taken him prisoner, the transformation had begun. Something had happened to him in Guantanamo Bay during the endless months of interrogation and torture. From the rank hatred Assoud conveyed toward women, Tehrazzi assumed it had something to do with a female guard there. Probably sexual in nature. Whatever had happened in Cuba, they'd succeeded in breaking Assoud's mind, and made him even more dangerous and unpredictable in the process. Now free, he posed even more of a threat to them. There was a certain irony in that, but then, Americans always created their own monsters, didn't they? Tehrazzi was living proof.
Women clad in burqas shooed children out of their path as they neared the warlord's hut. Young boys stared at him with worshipful eyes. Their host rose from his place by a table laden with cheese and bread, and greeted him warmly. A wide smile creased his face through his thick graying beard, and a turban covered the thinning hair on his head.
“We are pleased to accept your hospitality,” Tehrazzi responded in Pashto.
“Please join me,” the warlord said, gesturing to the table where a servant laid out cups of chai tea. Once they were seated, he titled his head at them in curiosity. “The infidels— they have come?”
“They will be here very soon.”
“Not soon enough,” Assoud remarked with a grin.
The deadline again, Tehrazzi thought in irritation. That's all his bodyguard thought about. If he continued to be that obsessed about killing their captives, something would have to be done to curb his enthusiasm.
“Will you require some of my soldiers? Arms?”
“Perhaps, though I think the American force coming will be small.” His teacher preferred working that way. He operated fast and quietly under cover of darkness, and only with hand-picked special-ops soldiers who were highly disciplined— something Tehrazzi increasingly feared his bodyguard was not. Those men knew how to make a kill and then vanish into their surroundings like ghosts. A larger force would hamper mobility, and any movement would leave tracks a child could follow. His teacher would never be so careless.
The challenge sent a thrill shivering through him.
“You are sure they will come?”
Tehrazzi's hand tightened around his cup. “Yes.” He knew it without a doubt. By targeting the female doctor, the CIA already had international pressure on it to secure her and the others’ release. Her being cousin to Samarra Wallace ensured his teacher would be the one to spearhead the effort. He might have suffered a head injury in Basra, but Tehrazzi was sure his teacher would come. He would never let one of his operatives go on such a dangerous mission alone, especially not a female he didn't quite trust thanks to Tehrazzi's recent efforts.
A peculiar phenomenon, how American soldiers protected their teammates regardless of whether it endangered their own lives. They would even go back and retrieve their comrades’ bodies while under fire. And if that was true of what they would do for the men, it was even more ingrained in them to protect a female. Having a woman on their team was an advantage for Tehrazzi, because they would go to impossible lengths to ensure her safety.
The seeds had been sown. All he had to do now was wait. Sooner or later, Miss Wallace would lead his teacher right to him.
Baghdad, evening
How did you go about re-earning someone's trust?
Sam secretly studied Ben's profile as he drove her back to the prison for the second night. She'd been thinking about that question all day and still had no good answer, but it mattered to her what he thought of her. Way more than what any of the others thought.
Despite the gulf of suspicion that lay between them, her feelings for him were growing by the hour, and being next to him in the confined space of the vehicle heightened her alarming physical awareness of him. Her body was like a Ben radar. Whenever he came in the room, her senses went haywire. Sweaty palms, accelerated heart rate, nose hypersensitive to the evergreen scent that clung to him. Goose bumps covered her body if he so much as brushed her shoulder on the way past. Trying to hide the reactions all day and still stay sharp so she could be an asset to the team had left her completely exhausted.
They'd worked together going over the communications equipment and packing their gear so they could leave for Afghanistan with a moment's notice. He'd been professional and cordial enough, but distant, and she still sensed a chill from him. Was she any closer to gaining his trust? He hadn't said one word to her about whether or not he believed she'd told him the truth, and he hadn't told her anything about the work Davis and Rhys were doing to find where Neveah and the other captives were. She tried to be calm about it. With all the crazy things going on, she supposed it was only logical for the others to be wary of her, but she'd hoped to win them all over by now.
“Need anything before I take you back?” Ben asked without taking his eyes off the road.
“No, thanks.” She studied his hand, wrapped around the steering wheel, and thought about all the times she'd imagined him touching her in her daydreams. All right, fantasies then. She couldn't help herself when it came to him. She'd never experienced such a strong attraction to a man before. Over the years she'd dated here and there, but nothing serious because she'd never found anyone that didn't bore her to tears after a few weeks. Until Ben had suddenly appeared in her life, she hadn't understood the meaning of the word desire.
She
so
got it now.
From the first moment she'd seen him, something had gone hot and fluttery inside her, but with all that had happened since then, she doubted she'd ever have a chance with him. Plus, he'd never once indicated an interest in her, other than friendship. For all she knew, he didn't even find her attractive. Especially now, since he thought she was an evil, conniving traitor. The knowledge made her feel slightly nauseous.
Sam drank the sight of him in. Both the twins were gorgeous, but there was something about Ben that stirred her up deep inside. She felt like she'd known him forever. That was Rhys’ fault. When they'd worked an op in Paris together, the stories he'd told her about Ben had peaked her interest. She'd already formed a picture of him in her mind— a bad-ass Ranger with a gigantic chip on his shoulder, a prankster with a wicked sense of humor, and a loyal brother and friend that had your back when you needed him, no questions asked. Meeting him in the flesh and then working beside him for those few weeks had only strengthened her interest. She admired everything she'd seen in Ben.
He'd been both considerate and protective of her, even though they'd just met. She'd come to love his easy affection and teasing manner, secretly basking in the way he'd put an arm around her shoulder or call her “sweets.” He was completely comfortable in his own skin, and unapologetic of who he was and what others thought of him. She liked that, and wished she had even half of his confidence. Thicker skin would have been handy right now, too. Knowing he didn't trust her hurt like hell.
The few times he'd brought his twin up, Rhys hadn't painted Ben as any of the things she'd come to see in him. Guys didn't say things like that, let alone Rhys, who wasn't one for small talk. He was the quiet, dependable type, and if she wasn't mistaken, felt responsible for keeping his brother in line. Maybe that's why he was as big a control freak as she was. Sam knew how that worked. She'd grown up having to look after everyone, too.
Ben was the more emotional of the two, but then, compared to Rhys, that wasn't hard to accomplish. Ben let his feelings show in his expression, unless he had his ‘game face’ on, like now, when he didn't want anyone to know what was going on in his head— a defense mechanism of sorts.
Having worked with both of them, she could understand why Rhys had gone on to serve in Delta Force while Ben had left the army after his tour with the Rangers ended. Being in that elite unit must have been both exhilarating and wearing for Ben. Keeping all that emotion under control in the worst of circumstances couldn't have been an easy feat for him. Yet he'd done it. He'd served his time in one of the most highly trained and disciplined units in the world, and stuck it out until his enlistment expired before moving on to private security work. She was proud of him for seeing it through, and admired the skills he'd exhibited on the last op.
Sam shot him a sidelong glance, running her gaze over his ripped arms, following the bulge of his biceps to his wide shoulders. Ben was dependable, capable, and good at his job. But he was high strung. She'd noticed the way he popped Tums when he thought no one was looking. He chewed his Big Red constantly as a form of stress relief. She bet his mind never shut off. Inside he was a constant whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, his secret anxieties worsened by the fact he tried so hard to hide them.
When he was jacked up inside, he hid it well enough from his team. He even got along with his brother, whom she could tell he secretly idolized. But Ben didn't work the same way his brother did. Rhys did everything with a stoic, businesslike manner. Ben didn't function like that. Things got to him, and she suspected that bothered him even more.
Sam turned her attention to the buildings flying past her window as they drove, thinking about that.
Like the night Luke and Dec had taken Bryn out on an op and ordered an air strike on a building when one of their teammates confirmed Tehrazzi was inside, she'd seen Ben struggle with himself. The incoming missile had leveled the building and everyone in it plus two young children, and the terrorist had escaped unharmed. When Ben heard what had happened over the radio, his body had tensed hard as steel in his chair next to her. His face had been gray, eyes glued to the computer screen feeding live video from the team's night vision goggles. He'd been worried sick about Bryn, had practically worn a hole in the office carpet as he paced and chomped on his gum.
Sam figured he must have strong feelings for Bryn to react that way. She knew Bryn was deep in love with Declan McCabe, and since they were together stateside now, Ben had to know any hope he'd had of being with her was gone. It might be pathetic that Sam didn't care if she was his first choice, but did that open up a chance for her? Gauging Ben's unreadable expression now, she had no idea.
She withheld a sigh as she snuck another glance at him. Other than that spark of heat in his eyes the night he'd made her all but strip down, he'd never given the slightest indication he saw her as anything more than a coworker, and now a possible traitor. What would he do if she kissed him? The tantalizing thought took root in her brain. She had vivid fantasies about pressing against all those hot, hard muscles and nibbling at his full lower lip.
Though he didn't fully trust her, Ben treated her with respect and consideration, and he was still protective of her. Those were good signs, right?
He was so damn beautiful to her. She loved how quick he was to smile, how fast he could focus on something and how easily he took charge of any given situation. Man, she had to be careful, or she could easily slide from being attracted to him to something altogether more emotionally damaging. She could see herself falling in love with him if he even met her part way.
She'd have to be pretty damn stupid to open herself up like that, wouldn't she?
“You're quiet tonight.”
“Got a lot on my mind.” Most of which she would only admit to under torture.
His eyes slid her way for a second. “To be honest, I don't like you having to stay in prison, but it's as safe a place as any until we get a lead on your cousin and start moving.”
Yeah, plus then they didn't have to spare anyone to keep an eye on her while she was locked up, and the guards could report anything they considered to be suspicious. Like her conversations with Fahdi. What an awful feeling to know someone mistrusted you that much.