Authors: Kaylea Cross
“What?” Luke demanded. “Something happen last night?”
“I'll let Rhys brief you,” Nev said, crossing to the door.
“No,” Luke snapped when Bryn followed her. “You both stay.”
“Fine.” Nev opened the door. Dec came in, followed by Rhys who stood almost a full head taller. Dec went over to stand behind Bryn, giving her shoulders a squeeze while Rhys stood against the opposite wall and put his hands behind his back.
Folding his arms across his chest, Luke scowled at them, and when he spoke his drawl was almost nonexistent. “Somebody better come clean here. Right the fuck now.”
Completely unfazed by the show of temper, Rhys leaned a muscled shoulder against the wall and regarded him steadily. “Someone tried to off Neveah last night at her hotel when we left here. Hassan's girlfriend, as it turns out. Apparently, the bounty offered made another attempt worthwhile.”
Luke's gaze shot to her. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I'm fine, and I didn't want to tell you in the recovery room. For God's sake, you just had brain surgery.”
“Yeah, and my hard drive's good as new.” He turned his attention back to Rhys. “What happened?”
Rhys explained everything, then finished by nodding at her and adding, “She's still bound and determined to do her keynote address in a few hours.”
Looking at her, Luke raised brow. “You sure about that?”
Her chin came up, the pilot light on her temper igniting. “I'm doing this speech. I will not be intimidated or cowed by people operating under a twisted guise of revenge.” She glared at Rhys. “You said yourself these guys were amateurs.”
“That's all well and good,” Luke drawled, “but in light of the circumstances, maybe you should rethink that decision. You've got lots of security there, and our boys are the best in the business, but you'd still be taking a calculated risk.” He nodded at Dec and Rhys. “And so will they.”
Dread hit her square in the heart, along with a good measure of guilt. She hated to think she might be placing Rhys or anyone else in danger over this. “Dec's staying here with you. I've already asked Ben and Rhys to stand down, but they both refused.”
“Yeah, they're funny that way.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and lowered her eyes. How could she make him understand? “I need to do this. They brutally and sadistically murdered two of my colleagues, and would have done the same to Mike and me if not for you and your team.” Nev let him see the resolve in her eyes when she looked up at him. “I owe it to them. And to myself. If I stay quiet, they win.” Translation: no way in hell was she going to change her mind on this.
Luke held her gaze for a moment before looking at Rhys. “You go over the security plan with Nate?”
Rhys nodded. “Ben as well.”
Silent until now, Dec spoke up. “You'd better get her a vest,” he advised, absently playing with a lock of Bryn's hair.
“What?” she asked, stepping forward and dropping her arms. “You mean a ballistic vest?”
Luke tilted his head. “Got a better suggestion as to how we can stop a bullet if someone that's not an amateur takes a crack at you? If anyone's still gunning for you, they might not be as incompetent as Hassan's girlfriend.”
Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes swung to Rhys, but if she was looking for backup, he didn't give it.
“It'll fit under your blouse, so don't worry,” he said. “At least that way most of your vital organs will be protected.”
“Unless they use hollow point ammunition,” she shot back, angry that he'd do this to her now. If he was so upset about her speech, why hadn't he made his feelings clear before now?
Rhys inclined his head. “True. It's up to you.”
She made a scoffing sound. “You guys trying to scare me into not speaking?”
“No,” Luke answered. “Just doing our job. The initial threat is likely over, but that doesn't mean there's not something in the works we haven't got wind of yet. The leader of the cell is still out there somewhere. Until we nail him, we can't know for sure.”
The blood drained from her face at his words, and she fell silent for a moment. Once she'd gathered her nerve, she said quietly, “This is the whole reason I came here.” She looked straight at Rhys. “Isn't there some way I can still do the speech?”
He met Luke's dark stare as they both considered the risk level in silence. Finally, Luke conceded with a tiny nod.
Once he had the green light from Luke, Rhys turned his head to look at Neveah. He wanted to take away all the pain she'd suffered, and this seemed the best method for now. “If it's this important to you, yeah. I'll take care of it.”
She exhaled and smiled in relief. “Thanks.”
Her gratitude and the fact that she trusted him to keep her safe were all that mattered, Rhys told himself. That's why his chest felt so tight. It had nothing to do with the nagging doubt in his gut.
“Would y'all excuse us?” Luke said to the others. “I want to talk to Rhys for a minute.”
After everyone else left, Rhys faced him with an arched brow. “What's on your mind?”
“Tehrazzi.”
Yeah, well, join the frigging club.
“Got something you want to share?”
Rhys almost smiled. “Ben got word early this morning from your sources that Tehrazzi was sighted in Peshawar, headed for the Afghan border.” He'd hidden the fact that he'd received Ben's text message from Neveah, and he had no compunction about it. He didn't want her any more worried than she already was.
Luke's face tightened. “Christ, if he gets over it this time... ”
They'd have better luck trying to find life on Mars. “Also, a kid by the name of Mahmoud Adir was found dead on a road out of town. Double-tap to the head, time of death approximately matches when Tehrazzi was seen. Soon after we busted the plot at the reception.” And the two precise gunshots proved the killer was someone with military training. Tehrazzi had that, taught by the best in the business. Luke.
“Any connection to him?”
Rhys shrugged. “Kid was an IT grad working in Islamabad. He's got relatives here in Vancouver. We're starting with those.”
“Nate think it's linked to the local cell?”
“He's not sure yet, but he's working on tracing calls made to Tehrazzi. If the murder in Pakistan is linked, then we still have a big problem.” He prayed Nate wouldn't find a connection, but if he did, Neveah was not giving that speech today, or any other day.
“Shit. Well, at least the bastard's using more merciful methods than his bodyguard did.”
Yes, but it confused Rhys. “I thought he didn't like killing.”
Luke sighed and closed his eyes, suddenly looking bone tired. “He doesn't. That's why he always had his bodyguard do it for him. But since the episode with Assoud, Tehrazzi's probably convinced he can't trust anyone, so he's taking care of things himself.”
So he was even more paranoid and dangerous now. Without others to link him with, he'd be that much harder to pin down in the vast landscape of the mountainous tribal regions that straddled the Pakistani/Afghan border.
When Luke lifted his lids, his eyes were grave. “You got all the security you need at the hotel?”
“Yeah.” Just a few more hours until he could get Neveah on a flight out of the country. Then maybe he'd take her someplace warm for a few weeks until the cell was cracked.
This thing was almost over. Rhys just hoped nothing else came up for him to worry about.
An hour later, Neveah held her heaping plate away from Rhys when he tried to take it for her and went back to their table. She threw her friend Mike an exasperated look over her shoulder as she walked away from him. He winked, apparently amused by her irritation. “I appreciate the thought,” she said to Rhys when he came up beside her, “but I can carry my own food.”
“I'd rather you let me do it.”
She arched a brow. “Just think of the favor I'm doing you by leaving one of your hands free to pull your gun if need be.”
His smile was anything but warm. “Like holding a plate would stop me?”
Rolling her eyes, Nev wound through the other tables to theirs and reached back for her chair, but Rhys had already pulled it out for her. “Thanks,” she murmured, amazed again by his manners.
By now she should be used to them, but every time he did something so gentlemanly it touched her. Now if only she could stop the buzzing sensation between her shoulder blades and forget she might still be in danger, she could get through this and go home. Hopefully with Rhys.
He scooted in beside her so he boxed her in between him and the wall, with only her right side open. She didn't miss the wry twist of his lips when she met his eyes.
“Is this seat taken?” a low voice asked.
She glanced up. “Doctor Shirani,” she said, standing to offer her hand. “Please join us. This is Rhys Sinclair— you may recognize him from the hospital last night.”
The surgeon's gaze went to the scars on Rhys's scalp. “Yes, he'd be hard to forget,” Shirani said affably, holding out his hand. Rhys took it and she swore she saw the surgeon flinch. She half expected to hear bones cracking as they shook hands.
She glared at Rhys, warning him to behave himself and sat down to eat. Lifting her silverware, she set about cutting a mouthful of blueberry pancake and accidentally bumped Shirani's arm with her elbow. “Sorry,” she said.
“The fault is mine for being left-handed,” he said, and scooted his chair another few inches away from her. “Makes it awkward to eat at a table full of right-handed people.”
Nev smiled and went back to her food, conscious of Rhys's wary vigilance. Switching her attention to something else, she got distracted by the sight of Doctor Shirani sawing through his medium cooked roast beef. The steak knife in his right hand sliced back and forth through the tissue. Bloody juices spilled from the meat with each pass of the blade.
Without warning, the sight and sound of it triggered a vision of a different knife that had killed her colleagues. Her stomach pitched and she set down her fork with a clatter, swallowing hard.
“Maybe you should switch seats with me,” Rhys suggested.
It shouldn't have surprised her that he'd seen her reaction. Forcing her gaze away from the bloody meat, she grabbed her glass and took a bracing sip of ice water. “No, thank you,” she murmured between swallows. “I'm fine here.” She would absolutely not look like a traumatized loser in front of her peers.
The meal finished quickly after that, and then the luncheon formalities began. Someone from the host committee got up and thanked the staff and volunteers, then introduced the first speaker. When it was her turn, she rose and squeezed Rhys's shoulder. He gazed straight back at her, and she read the unspoken message in his eyes.
Go for it, little one. I'm here
.
Careful to try and mask her limp, she wove through the tables to the podium at the front of the room. Her laptop sat open on top of it, already hooked up. All she had to do was cue it.
She scanned the audience quickly as she set up her power point presentation. Rhys sat at their table against the left hand wall, the back of his chair touching it. She smiled when he looked over at her and gave her a wink that let her know everything was okay. Some of the tension bled out of her.
While she didn't see any security officers in the room, she knew they were around. Maybe they were dressed as wait staff, or maybe they were sitting at tables throughout the room, but they were there.
More of her anxiety drained away, but some remained, a low grade hum in her gut. Not because of what she was about to do. She was a very good public speaker, and being in front of a crowd didn't bother her. The possible threat hanging over her like a bolt of lightning waiting to strike was responsible for setting her on edge.
She wouldn't let it shake her confidence. This was what she'd come here to do. She needed to tell her murdered colleagues’ stories and do right by them. Her job was to impress upon the crowd that Doctors Without Borders was a critical effort to help the civilian population in Afghanistan and while the terrorists had taken two innocent lives during her captivity, they would not win the war.
Because of people like her and the man she loved across the room, silent and watchful.
One of the waiters approached her, wearing a white dress jacket and slacks. “Are you ready, Doctor Adams?”
For no good reason, her palms grew damp. She put on a confident smile. “Yes.”
He nodded and gestured to the conference organizer, already waiting at the microphone. At his hand signal, the lights in the dining room dimmed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the speaker announced, “it is with great respect and admiration that I announce to you our keynote speaker for today's luncheon, Doctor Neveah Adams.”
Amidst the din of applause Neveah stepped up to the podium with the remote for her laptop held tight in one hand. “Thank you, Doctor Williams,” she said as she adjusted the microphone to suit her. Stealing one last glance at Rhys, she took a silent breath and began her presentation.
“As most of you know, I recently returned from Afghanistan where I worked as a member of Doctors Without Borders.” On the giant screen behind her, a picture of her and the other three doctors came up. “These were my colleagues. Only myself and one other came back alive.” She met Mike's eyes from across the room.
The place was so quiet she might have been standing in a soundproof cell rather than a crowded dining room. She had everyone's attention now, each pair of eyes fastened on her.
“I'm here today to honor the memory of those good men, and of those who pulled me out.” When she looked at Rhys, the tide of emotion was so strong it raised goose bumps all over her skin. He acknowledged her thank you with a quick incline of his head, and then went back to scanning the room.
As people turned in their seats to look in the direction she had, searching for the mysterious men who had come to her rescue, she hit the button on the remote to move to the next screen in hopes of distracting them. Rhys wouldn't want people to know who he was or what he'd done. “This was our clinic in Kabul.”
An image of the one-story beige cinder block building came up. “We were the first Doctors Without Borders team to be sent into the country since the Taliban captured and executed the last one in 2004. The government thought security had improved enough since then to approve our mission, and we got the green light.” She paused and let her gaze drift over her captive audience. “If only we'd known how wrong the authorities were about the security situation.”