Pussycat in Peril (Pussycat Death Squad Book 3) (3 page)

He shrugged. “I’m a grown man, I could’ve declined. I hardly ran away screaming into the night. I’m going with or without your approval or assistance, so you might as well help me all you can to make my mission successful. And you might take comfort in the fact that I’m not one of your people.”

“That doesn’t help,” she said.

He shrugged again. “That’s all I’ve got. Somebody’s got to go find Astaria and bring her home. Might as well be me. You know you can’t send any of your people into such a situation.”

She bristled at that. “My women are lethal and more skilled than any marine.”

“I’d be the last person to argue that point, but with this level of violence and some of those groups rivaling the Taliban in their anti-female rhetoric, none of your people could move around freely enough to find Astaria, let alone get her out safely,” Patrick said softly.

“They could wear disguises,” she said.

“And if they were discovered? Besides, I thought you didn’t want your people in this? Y’all barely escaped the first time. I’d think it would be the last place any of them should go. They probably wouldn’t live very long,” Kaeden said.

“For all intents and purposes you
are
my people. After all we are the ones who got you involved. You did it as a favor and we appreciate it and don’t want to repay you by getting you killed,” she said.

“Well, it’s not like I was kicking and screaming to get away, now was I?” Kaeden asked with a sudden grin.

Lelia pressed her fingers to her eyes as though to shut out the world. After a long pause she removed them and gave Kaeden a direct look from her soft brown eyes. Lelia was a beautiful woman, but her unwavering, forthright manner was one of her best attributes. Nobody ever had to guess where they stood with her. He admired the same trait in Astaria. “I know you’re right. The situation is just so horrific. I knew the Colonel would go down someday, and I feared this type of thing occurring, but never did I expect it to come to this. Laritreans slaughtering one another in the street again. Did we learn nothing from the last war?”

Patrick shook his head and leaned forward to give her a soft, comforting kiss on the top of her head. “Unfortunately, war is not a particularly effective tutor. Even so, I always thought it was crazy that her family stayed after y’all escaped.”

Lelia shrugged. “I don’t think Dr. Ibrahim thought he was in any real danger. Remember her brother Halil was still a soldier in the Revolutionary Guard, too.”

“Yeah, but he helped y’all escape. Never thought it was wise for him to stay either,” Patrick said.

“That’s because you’re an American,” Lelia said.

Patrick rolled his eyes and Kaeden nodded in sympathy. Lelia’s disdain for Americans had hardly been ameliorated by three years living in the country.

“Are we really going into that evil empire thing again?” Patrick asked.

“No. No. And you know I’ve never used that phrase in my life, but your country is stable and has been for many years. No one in your lifetime or for many lifetimes have had to fight for this country,” she said with a mulish tilt to her rounded chin.

Kaeden interrupted, “We’ve had wars…”

“Of course you have and people have died. But that’s not the same as a war
in
your country. Where you see your family killed before your eyes. Where you see your crops destroyed and your children going hungry. Women are raped and carried off by the dozens and sold into sex slavery. Halil stayed to fight for our country. We have some intelligence that he might be fighting with one of the anti-government groups, but yes, he has just disappeared too.”

Kaeden pinched the bridge of his nose. Astaria hadn’t shared this bit of information with him, and he didn’t have to ask why. And if Halil was fighting with some guerilla group, there was damned good chance Astaria was too. She and Halil were separated only by a couple of years in birth and were very close. She’d wound up in the Amazonian Guard because as a woman she was ineligible to serve in the Army as Halil had done. “So, my wife’s entire family has vanished along with her. This is just great. And you thought it would be a good idea for her to go back?” He couldn’t help the sharp look he directed toward Lelia. Hell, she could have at least told him that Astaria was embarking on this fuckery. And Patrick was supposed to be his best friend. It was all he could do not to beat the hell out of him.

“No. I thought it was an awful idea, but I also knew there was no way to stop her. Would you not do the same?” Lelia asked.

Kaeden sighed. Of course he wouldn’t abandon his family. He had two brothers for fuck’s sake. “But why didn’t she tell me? I could’ve gone with her.”

“Or tried to talk her out of it,” Patrick said.

“Of course I would have tried to talk her out of it. But I still would have gone with her. She knows…”

“She knows…” Patrick repeated with a peaked brow.

“Never mind,” Kaeden said. No way was he going to admit that Astaria had no idea how he felt about her and it was his own stupid fault. He re-directed his gaze to Lelia. “So are you with me, or not?”

She sighed then turned to face Kaeden while standing in the circle of Patrick’s arms.

“What do you need?” she asked, suddenly all business obviously having resigned herself to the fact that he was going whether she wanted him to or not. Kaeden was grateful. Lelia was a past master at logistics and he was going to need all the help he could get to get in country and out with Astaria alive.

“First I guess I need a cover story. Money and passports too. But mainly a lot of money. When things go to hell in a handbasket money is the only way to get out. Then I’ll need to figure out a way to get to Amaru without drawing attention to myself.”

Chapter Two

Faisal Ibrahim was dead. That was one of the first things Kaeden discovered upon arriving in Amaru. Kaeden had a brief moment to grieve the man he’d never met, but whom he knew his wife adored. He hadn’t dared ask openly for the Ibrahim family, seeing as he had no idea what had happened to them. Fortunately, Dr. Ibrahim was well known and loved in the community. He’d even hosted a popular local television show about antiquities and artifacts, so his death was still the subject of gossip even a couple months later.

Fighting in the area between the LOV, moderate rebel groups and the IJIWO, also known as Islamic Jihad Worldwide had been intense and right now IJIWO was occupying the city. They’d abducted the well-known archaeologist and tried to force him to tell them the whereabouts of the Roman ruins he’d uncovered. As it was their custom in occupied areas, they’d intended to destroy the ruins. Ibrahim was not sufficiently forthcoming as to the location of his life’s work, and they’d decapitated him in the town square. Kaeden had almost lost his shit from that visual, one of the stark unnecessary death of what was, by all accounts, a good man, but also by the fear of what had become of Astaria. He eventually learned that Farah, Astaria’s mother had died in the hospital the same day Ibrahim was arrested, but as to whether she was killed by disease or the militants who were occupying the city at the time no one seemed to know. He suspected it was the former rather than the latter. Farah’s breast cancer had returned after nearly a decade so her death was no surprise, but where the hell was Astaria?

It had been surprisingly easy to sneak into the country. Everything was in such chaos and there were so many displaced people wandering about, no one had even bothered to ask what he was doing there. He had only had to present his forged documents once, and that was upon entering the city. He was presenting as a refugee from the east where some of the fiercest fighting was going on. His most pressing need initially was in finding a place to stay, but he’d eventually been able to find a small room in the home of an elderly couple. He shared the room with their son, but at least it was clean and reasonably quiet. Both were nearly impossible to find in a city where the population had doubled due to all the fighting.

Now Kaeden sat in an underground
shisha
bar waiting to meet with a man who could purportedly tell him what had happened to his wife. Discreet inquiries for a “fixer” had led him to this location, and he was somewhat surprised by the boldness of the proprietor. He’d only been in Amaru for a couple of days and he’d quickly realized that IJIWO ran an incredibly tight ship with a network of spies that was quite impressive, and they were firm adherents to Sharia law. Though whether shisha was haram, or forbidden, was up for debate, it was definitely outlawed under IJIWO occupation. He wasn’t overly fond of the practice himself, especially as he suspected from the oily, musky aroma that something more than tobacco was in some of the pipes, and hash was
definitely
haram.

Maybe IJIWO simply hadn’t gotten around to it, or maybe the owner had a pass from the occupiers. Even the most devout were not above good old-fashioned corruption. Narcotics were making a big come back throughout the region; selling them and working in oil were two of the only ways to make a living, given the almost constant state of war. But right now he couldn’t focus on anything other than his overwhelming fear about what had become of Astaria.

As he looked around the gloomy confines of the shisha bar, he immediately recognized his contact. The man was rather nondescript, dressed plainly in a white button front shirt and casual trousers. His features were not particularly arresting either. He was not someone that anyone would look at twice, but something about his manner conveyed authority and would’ve done so even if Kaeden hadn’t noticed the way other patrons of the bar moved out of the way to let the man pass, conveying a respect and obeisance that his appearance certainly didn’t warrant. The man immediately walked over to Kaeden’s small table and took a seat. He said nothing, simply stared at Kaeden for a long moment, his bright black eyes taking in every facet of Kaeden’s appearance. Then he nodded as though seeing something that reassured him.

“You are here to find Astaria Ibrahim?” the man asked in a Laritrean dialect.

Kaeden nodded, thanking Allah that Astaria had taught him the language. He’d only been in the city for a few days, but speaking it constantly had strengthened his skill considerably. Though the man’s grammar was appalling, Kaeden had little trouble parsing his meaning. “Yes.”

“Who are you to her?”

Though he was prepared for the question, Kaeden paused for a moment. His initial impulse was to tell the direct truth. Telling unnecessary lies was a surefire way to get tripped up in such a circumstance. On the other hand, acknowledging their marital status could also be used to control or manipulate him. So he decided to tell a simple lie.

“I’m a…family friend.”

“Family friend?” the man asked with a quirked brow.

“An agent, if you will.”

That seemed to appease the man, which Kaeden thought was interesting. “Do you know where Ms. Ibrahim is?”

The man nodded again. “She’s being held captive.”

“Captive by whom? IJIWO?”

The man barked out a harsh laugh. “I doubt IJIWO care one way or another about this woman. No. Do you understand how IJIWO operates?”

“No, not really. I’m not particularly interested in politics,” he said with a deliberately dismissive gesture. In these circumstances it was much better to be seen as a being strictly about money. Being on the wrong side of this polyhedron of conflicts could get him killed. Money was never on the wrong side.

The man sneered at him with a twist of his narrow mouth. “This isn’t politics it’s war. Never mind. Anyway, IJIWO takes a town then they find sympathizers to actually run it for them, while they move on to the next target. Amaru was given over to Ghalib Al Hakam. Most refer to him as Al Hakam. The Judge. Apparently he had a personal spite against your Dr. Ibrahim and that is why he was killed.”

Interesting how the man’s grammar cleared up when he spoke about politics. Clearly his contact was presenting as something he was not. Knowing this made Kaeden even more wary so he weighed the question before he asked it. “Why wasn’t Ms. Ibrahim killed?”

“She wasn’t here at the time the professor was arrested. She has only now been found. However, Al Hakam is out of town at the moment and no one dare make a decision without his say so. And given the way communication is these days…For right now she is safe, but the moment he returns.” He raised a finger to his neck in the universal gesture for decapitation.

“I see. So what would it take to…” he hesitated, looking around the room as though frightened to ask the question.

“Free Ms. Ibrahim and get her out of the country?” his companion finished the sentence for him without lowering his voice in the slightest, thus confirming that he was indeed a power in the town. Kaeden suspected he worked for Al Hakam himself, or at least was close to the other man.

“Yes. That is what I’d like to have happen if possible.”

“You will learn my friend, that anything is possible these days, though, it will, of course, be costly,” the man said, raising his rather unruly brows in inquiry.

Kaeden had assumed it would be so, and he wasn’t surprised when the man named a figure. It was more than he wanted to pay, as it would take almost all the ready cash he had available, but it was not alarmingly high. Indeed the price made him wonder exactly what game his contact was playing. Was he deliberately trying to free Astaria for some scheme of his own? Or was this whole situation a scam designed to separate him from his money? Well, he had no intention of paying the man upfront anyway, so that shouldn’t be a problem.