SEAL's Deception (Take No Prisoners Book 8) (3 page)

Ben’s frown returned. “You’ve already arranged it?”

Yasmin grinned at Ben’s look of consternation. “The princess’s parents had arranged for the flight prior to leaving on a month-long cruise aboard their yacht. It’s important we follow through on their schedule.”

“How did you get the princess to hand over the keys to her apartment and her life?” Irish asked.

“She was going to run anyway.” Yasmin shrugged. “I helped her slip away a little sooner. Aliya was more than happy for me to take her place. Now…” Yasmin stared at each man, one at a time, “I need to know if you’re in or not?”

“I’m in,” Irish said.

“Me, too,” Stingray seconded. “It’s just the kind of seat-of-the-pants bullshit I love.”

Ben’s lips curled on the corners. “I don’t look forward to spending time in a Saudi jail. But, I’m in.”

Yasmin gave the men the address of the apartment and the time the car would be there to collect them. She gathered her laptop, jammed her wig into a drawer, plunked a wide-brimmed hat on her head and nodded toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

As the men moved toward the door, she added, “And watch out for trains.”

B
en followed
Stingray and Irish out onto the train tracks. No sooner had they all vacated the little room than the rumbling vibrations of a train heading their way caught their attention.

Irish and Stingray took off at a jog.

Yasmin locked her “office” and hurried along the track.

Ben kept up with her, glancing over his shoulder the longer the trek took.

Yasmin almost laughed out loud at the worried dent in his brow.

By the time they reached the platform, the train was screaming toward them. Ben whisked Yasmin off her feet and swung her up beside them.

Irish and Stingray reached down, extending their hands to Ben. He grabbed one each and was yanked up onto the platform.

The train swept up to the stop, brakes squealing. The doors slid open, but nobody got out. As late as it was, the city had settled in for the night.

Stingray and Irish headed for the exit to the street level.

At the last minute, right before the doors closed, Yasmin leaped onto the train, dragging Ben with her.

The doors slid shut and the train pulled away from the stop, leaving Yasmin and Ben alone. Her body still tingled from where Ben’s big hands had grabbed her. She studied him from beneath her lashes.

Tall, blond, and incredibly handsome.

She touched a finger to her chin and circled him. “I don’t know if Khalid will take charge of his princess and fire her bodyguards immediately. He might have men from his country identified to provide for her protection. We have to hope he won’t replace her guards until the marriage takes place. Princess Aliya is known to have a blond hulk of a bodyguard. I think she ran off with him. If it weren’t for the blond bodyguard, I’d assign Stingray as my number one.”

Ben shook his head. “Sorry. Either I’m number one, or I’m out altogether.”

She smiled. “Touchy much?”

“Not usually. But, I want to keep a close eye on you. I’m not so sure I should trust you.”

Those gorgeous sandy-blond eyebrows lowered, making Yasmin want to reach out and run a finger across them. Then his words sank in and hit her square in the gut. Everything she’d worked for, every step she’d taken to redeem herself since she’d been fired from INTERPOL, slipped out from under her. That lead weight she’d carried around in the pit of her belly seemed even heavier. “You don’t trust me?” Hell, most of the time, she didn’t trust herself. Not after her fatal judgment of character had cost the lives of two French INTERPOL agents.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Not particularly. Especially not with the safety of my men.”

She nodded. “I get it. I wouldn’t trust me, either.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll perform this mission without you. This is as far as you go.”

Ben gripped her arms. “The hell it is.” He pushed her up against a seat back. “As nutty as your plan is, it’s the only one we have to get into Khalid’s palace in Riyadh. The sooner we get to those vials, the sooner we get them out of the hands of terrorists or zealots. Some wars just aren’t meant to be fought. Not this way. Not with the fate of the world at risk.”

“Maybe that’s what needs to happen. Let the biological weapon loose to cleanse the earth of the worst thing that ever happened to it. Humans.” She shook her head and pushed against his chest. “I’m serious. I don’t want you on this mission if you can’t trust me.”

“Look, I don’t want anything bad to happen to my men. But I’m not backing down now. I’m just keeping an eye on you. Maybe, after a few days together, I’ll learn to trust you.”

She pulled out of his grip, her heartbeat pounding against her ribs, her arms tingling where his fingers had been. “Maybe, after a few days together, I’ll just kill you, and we can call it even.”

B
en didn’t
like the whole set up. As tunnel lights zipped past the train windows, he couldn’t keep the knot from forming in his gut. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced they would get themselves thrown into some godforsaken Saudi prison. Or, worse, start an international incident between the U.S. and the Saudi royal family. “Tell me, does the top brass know what we’re about to do?”

Yasmin shot him a look with raised brows. “Are you crazy? The American government can’t keep a secret. So many leaks exist at the top level, we’d be insane to run it by anyone other than our small team.”

Ben stiffened. “You mean you haven’t cleared this operation with your boss?”

She shook her head. “My boss told me to get in, get out and make sure those vials don’t fall into the wrong hands. He told me he wouldn’t question my methods, and if shit hit the fan, I was on my own.”

“Great.” Ben shook his head, his gut knotting. “I’m all for storming into a primitive village or the war-torn streets of Iraq. But this is suicide.”

Her chin jutted out. “I told you that you don’t have to go.”

“You’re damn right I don’t have to go. If we’re discovered, not only will I lose my job, we could end up in a shithole of a jail, rotting away for the rest of our lives.”

She touched his arm.

An electrical charge shot through him. “So, go back to the States, or wherever you came from.”

Ben stared at the hand on his arm, wondering why the hell heat was building beneath his skin, and knowing he couldn’t walk away. “You’re doing this with or without us, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “And I’m betting we won’t be allowed to carry a single weapon into the palace.”

Yasmin smirked. “You’ll be allowed one.” She touched a finger to her temple. “Your brain. We have to be smarter and quicker on our feet than Khalid and his men.”

Ben shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m crazy to even consider this.”

“Agreed.” She twirled a long strand of dark hair. “But, you’re going ahead with it, aren’t you?”

As he stared into her eyes, the potential disaster he was committing to whirling in his mind, he couldn’t help wondering if her lips were as soft as they appeared. “I knew you were trouble when I first spotted you.”

“You did?” Her shoulders relaxed a little and she smiled. “I knew you were the right man for the job when I spotted
you
.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

The train slowed and came to a halt.

Yasmin glanced up. “This is our stop.” The doors slid open, and she stepped out.

Ben followed her up the stairs to street level. “For what it’s worth, I like you better as a brunette.”

“Really?” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “Why?”

“Makes you look smarter.”

She came to an abrupt stop, causing Ben to run into her. She frowned, but her lips quirked upward on the corners. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“Take it however you want it. But keep moving. Someone’s following us.”

Frowning, she darted a look around him. “Already?”

“You’re a princess. Get used to it.” He gripped her elbow and turned her in the opposite direction. “Which way?”

“Two blocks north, on the left.”

Ben hustled her toward the swanky flat on South Bank, overlooking the Thames. The man he’d indicated as following them turned one street short and disappeared. “Guess I was wrong about the tail.”

Yasmin shook off his hold. “That’s too bad. If someone was following us, I could only assume they thought I was the real princess.”

“Did Aliya have problems with stalkers?”

With a nod, Yasmin arrived at the front door of the building. She fished inside her bra, removed a plastic key card and waved it over the scanner beside the entrance. The glass doors slid open.

Ben gripped her arm and escorted her through the opening.

A security guard looked up from the telephone. “Give me a ring if you hear anything else about the explosion,” he said and ended the call.

Tensing, Ben prayed the man didn’t notice the difference between the extremely well-maintained princess and the straight-from-a-bar-fight CIA agent.

Yasmin waved her fingers and gave the man a hint of a smile. In a perfect English accent, she said, “Good evening, Seamus. How are you and your family?”

The man stared for a moment, his gaze scanning from her floppy hat down to her stilettoes before he responded with a smile of his own. “Good evening, Princess Aliya. I’ve never been better, although I’m wishing I was with me wife. She’s taking the wee ones to Bath on holiday.”

“Please tell me you’ll be joining them?” Yasmin kept walking toward the elevator, chatting as she passed by the security desk.

The guard nodded. “I will, at the end of the week.”

As Yasmin raised her key card to activate the elevator, the security guard stood.

Ben watched from the corner of his eye, ready to take on the Irishman, if needed.

“Pardon me, Princess Aliya,” Seamus said.

“Yes?” Yasmin turned with a smile, the hat’s brim dipping low over her face.

“You have a special delivery letter.” He held out an envelope.

Ben stepped forward. “I’ll take that.”

The guard glared and jerked it away from Ben’s reach. “I’m to hand it over to the princess.”

Ben hoped when the guard did hand over the letter, he didn’t get such a close look he’d figure out that Princes Aliya wasn’t exactly who she pretended to be.

Yasmin squared her shoulders and turned toward the guard. “Thank you, Seamus. Nothing from my parents?” She took the envelope and tipped down her head, as if pretending to read the address.

“No, princess.”

“Good. Have a pleasant evening.” She spun on her heels and returned to the elevator, slipping her key card over the scanner. The doors slid open. Yasmin stepped in and Ben hurried after her.

Once the doors closed, Yasmin waved the key over the scanner, entered the floor number and let out a long breath. “I need to send my parents a card to let them know I’m leaving tomorrow. Please remind me, will you?” she said in the same accent.

Ben scanned the interior of the elevator, noting the video camera in the top right corner. Playing along with Yasmin’s charade, he crossed his arms over his chest, squared his stance and nodded stoically. He assumed bodyguards were to be seen, not heard, unless the client was threatened in any way.

The elevator reached the top floor and opened into a small foyer. Yasmin stepped across to the broad black door and, once again, swept her card over the reader. A light blinked on the door, she twisted the handle, and the door swung open.

Yasmin stepped through onto posh, white shiny marble tile. The portico led into a spacious living area with floor-to-ceiling windows open to the night lights of London.

“Elaborate enough?” Ben muttered.

“My parents love me. Why argue with them?” She continued with the accent, giving a little nod to a camera installed in the corner of the living room, and another near where they stood in the entryway.

“They must care a lot about you,” he said softly, playing along.

“Too much, sometimes. Like this wedding thing. They think I need to settle down with a prince.”

“And will you?”

“I suppose I need to make up my mind by tomorrow. The prince is sending his plane for me.”

“Is there anything you want me to do before you call it a night?” Ben studied the room for any other hidden cameras or listening devices. This was far out of his league as a SEAL, but Yasmin seemed perfectly at home taking over a princess’s flat. “How long have you stayed in this building?”

She walked through the living area, came to a halt in front of the window and looked out at the view of the Parliament on the left and the Tower of London on the right. “A year and a half, I think. It seems such a long time ago that I completed my studies at Oxford. Be a dear and get me a glass of wine. Mummy and Daddy will be beside themselves when they discover I’ve fired the old bodyguard and hired a new one. Especially when they see you.”

“Are you telling me I might need to look for another job tomorrow?”

She laughed. “Oh, heavens, no. If I go to Riyadh tomorrow, I’ll want a bodyguard who speaks English, even if it’s American English.” She waved a hand toward the bar. “Please, the drink? Something dry.”

Ben crossed the glossy marble tile to the black lacquer liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, wondering how much a bottle of the finest wine went for in London. Would it be considered grand theft if he opened one? He was even more curious how Aliya’s parents would feel if they knew their daughter had alcohol in the suite. Most Muslims didn’t drink. It was a sin. He located a corkscrew and popped the cork on the bottle, pouring a glass for her majesty.

His lips twitched. Wouldn’t Yasmin love being called
her majesty
? He’d be glad when they weren’t under constant surveillance. He felt like he was in a reality television show, waiting for the audience to vote him off the island.

“Pour yourself a glass, as well,” Yasmin said. “I abhor drinking alone.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t drink on the job.”

“Oh, pooh.” She took the glass and flounced into another room. “Since you’re working, take a moment to check for bogeymen beneath the bed and in my closet, please.” She turned just inside the bedroom door with her hat still resting on her head.

Ben hesitated, unsure whether she was still acting or really afraid of bad guys hiding beneath the bed.

Yasmin tipped her head toward the bedroom and tapped her toe on the marble. “Don’t just stand there. You work for me, now. I won’t sleep well if you don’t check.”

Fighting to move with a casual stride, Ben crossed the room and entered the bedroom. Again, he hadn’t seen anything nearly as opulent. The room was bigger than his, Stingray’s, and Irish’s apartments put together. The king-sized bed was the focal point of the room with its massive quilted headboard and matching satin duvet. A black lacquer writing desk stood in one corner and a deep red antique sofa in another.

Going through the motions of checking beneath the bed and inside the walk-in closet, he ruled out hidden menaces.

“The bathroom, please,” she said.

Following her command, he stepped around her and entered the large spa-like bath area with a claw-foot soaker tub and a walk-in shower that could accommodate half of SEAL Team 10.

As he exited the shower, Yasmin stepped into the bathroom with him and closed the door. “Turn on the shower.”

“Huh?”

“Turn it on, please.”

When he didn’t immediately respond to her command, Yasmin shook her head and crossed the floor, squeezing past him to turn on the water in the shower. Once she had, she faced him and spoke in a low voice. “Aliya showed me the cameras, but I haven’t had time to check for listening devices.”

Which explained the act from the living area through the bathroom. “Who placed the cameras?”

“Aliya said her parents had them installed to keep her safe. She rarely spent time in the flat, because she didn’t like being watched all of the time.”

“I don’t blame her.” His eyes narrowed. “I take it you’ve been here before?’

“A couple times.”

“And the guard didn’t recognize you?”

“I came as the blond-haired, blue-eyed college friend and made sure I never spoke or looked the guards straight in the eye. I memorized Aliya’s accent and mannerisms. The dress and hat I’m wearing were from her wardrobe. When she decided it was time to make a run for it, we had a plan in place. She brought me the key to her place and a couple clothing items she knew the security guards would recognize. The rest she left behind for me.”

“When did she leave?”

“Last night. She didn’t take a bag or any of her belongings, knowing it would raise suspicion.”

“Where did she go?” Ben asked.

“I didn’t ask. She ran away with the bodyguard. I promised to stand in for Aliya when her fiancé set the date for her to go to him.”

Ben crossed his arms over his chest. “So, when did you come up with this plan?”

“I got news of this assignment two weeks ago. I did some preliminary investigation into the House of Saud, Khalid in particular, since the vials were thought to have been sent to his palace. I learned the prince had an arranged marriage set up between his parents and their old friends. When I found out the bride-to-be was in London and liked to party, I made sure I showed up at the bars she frequented.” Yasmin shrugged. “The rest was gaining her trust. The timing played in our favor. I thought we’d be the one to initiate the contact between Princess Aliya and Prince Khalid. But, the prince seems eager to meet his bride. When Khalid made known his desire to marry, we executed the plan. She fired two of the bodyguards, left with the third and I’m taking over her life with the prince.”

Ben listened as Yasmin went through the steps she’d performed in a fairly short amount of time, amazed at how clever she was at collecting information and putting together a plan as complicated as the one they were about to undertake. “I hate to admit it, but I’m impressed. And you did it all in a matter of a couple of weeks. We sometimes spend months practicing an insurgency or extraction, down to making precise replicas of the buildings and rooms we will be entering.”

“But, there are the times you go in not knowing who are the enemies and who are your friends. Right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Then you go with your gut.”

She was right. No matter how many times they practiced a certain maneuver, the situations were fluid and changed quickly. A flash of admiration filled his chest. Damn. The woman thought like SEAL.

Yasmin turned her back to him. “While you’re in here, please unzip me. I need a shower before we fly to Riyadh tomorrow.”

Ben stared at the fastener in the slinky red dress as if it were a snake.

She arched an eyebrow. “Seriously. I’m not going to bite you, and I don’t want anything more than for you to unzip me. That zipper can be tricky.”

Ben gripped the tab and pulled the tab down. Hell, it was long, traveling all the way down her back to the base of her spine and the uppermost curve of her bottom.