They would both be in a lot of danger in Akkadia, but the one good thing was, at least they would face it together.
16
“Prince Mishaan, welcome back to Akkadia.”
Sean barely resisted the almost overwhelming desire to roll his eyes at Mansur’s greeting as he walked down the steps of the plane to the tarmac. He couldn’t believe his uncle had put together a welcoming committee for his arrival, especially given the way he’d departed the country only a few weeks before. From the looks of it, most of the major tribal leaders were in attendance, no doubt because they wanted to get a look at him. His grandfather had made no ceremony of his first arrival in Akkadia, and Sean wouldn’t have been surprised if most of the twenty or so men currently in attendance had no idea he’d ever been in the country at all.
“Thank you, uncle,” Sean replied, doing his best to keep the irony out of his tone.
Bash had preceded him down the steps, scanning quickly for danger, and now stood to one side of the stairway, shoulders tense and his head constantly moving as he watched for threats. As Sean’s foot hit the ground, all of the men except Bash bowed low, showing their respect, and though Sean was uncomfortable with the gesture, he kept his opinion to himself; it wouldn’t do to go offending people from the moment he arrived, especially if it pissed one of them off enough to try to kill him. After a few moments, they all straightened, and Sean smiled, turning to gesture at Bash.
“Thank you. Let me introduce Senior Agent Chase of Interpol. He’s here as head of my personal security detail. It was he who saved me from the men who kidnapped me.”
The cover story had been Bash’s idea. Among the pictures Nick had produced of the upper echelon of Akkadian politics — and thus, of the likely traitor — Bash had recognized Mansur’s senior lieutenant as being the man who had beaten him after they had caught him at the terrorist’s hideout. If Mansur was to be believed, the man knew nothing about Fortress and had only been doing his duty, but Bash wasn’t the trusting sort. Sean suspected Bash also held a grudge where Prince Hamid Al Daoud was concerned, and even Hamid’s blood tie to both Sean and Mansur didn’t count for anything in Bash’s forthrightly stated opinion.
Sean had hesitated at the web of lies involved, but they had to come up with some explanation, and since Mansur assured them that Bash’s identity remained unknown to anyone save Mansur himself, it helped explain both Bash’s initial presence in the country and his return. The reason for the ‘missing person’ alert also had to be accounted for, but only Mansur knew the entire truth. As far as Hamid and the rest of the palace staff who knew Sean had been imprisoned by his grandfather, the story was that Bash was an Interpol agent who took Sean along when making his own escape. Nick had called in a favor with his contacts within Interpol to give Bash cover in case anyone checked. To everyone else, Sean had been kidnapped, and Bash had been his rescuer. Exposing Faisal as a liar at this point would achieve nothing and might even play into the traitor’s hands.
Mansur bowed to Bash, and Sean knew his lover well enough to read the warning in Bash’s icy gaze. Sean didn’t trust Mansur completely, either, but he hoped Bash would give Mansur an opportunity to prove himself, because God knew they needed someone in Akkadia who was on their side.
Sean endured the informal sort of ceremony as each of the men present came forward to greet him. He recognized many of them from the photos Bash had shown him. As he shook their hands — obviously a concession to his Western upbringing — Sean couldn’t help but wonder if one of them was the person who’d hired a gunman to shoot Faisal… and if he was their next target.
At a gesture from Mansur, the limousines parked just off the runway drove forward, and Mansur led Sean and Bash toward the first car.
“This driver does not speak English, and I’ve swept the car for listening devices,” Mansur said in a low voice. “I will ride with you to the palace. We may speak freely.”
Sean gave a brief nod, stepping past the door that Bash held open and sliding across the black leather seat. The interior was blessedly cool after the unrelieved sun on the tarmac, and Sean sighed in relief once Bash and Mansur were seated and the car was in motion.
“Is this whole kidnapping charade going to stand up?” Sean asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Given how many people knew I was being held, it seems like a house of cards ready to tumble down at any moment.”
Mansur lifted a shoulder. “You underestimate the loyalty of the palace staff. Besides, there were very few people other than a few guards who knew you were there. The privacy of the Royal Family is guarded rather jealously, and leaks of any sort are rare indeed, since everyone knows Faisal can order the death of anyone he pleases. And fortunately, Bash’s refusal to admit anything made it easy to work in his cover story about being part of Interpol. Hamid was furious at ‘Western interference’ in our internal affairs, but he accepted Bash was here to rescue an American and his family and was captured in the line of his own duties. As far as he is concerned, Bash is exactly what we are presenting him as, here to safeguard your interests as a Westerner and make sure nothing else ‘unfortunate’ befalls you.” His smile was sardonic.
“Just so we’re clear, I’m holding you personally responsible if anything happens to Sean,” Bash said, glaring at Mansur. “I was against him risking his life for a country that has treated him so horribly, consequences be damned. Fortunately for you, he’s a much more understanding man than I am.”
“Believe me, I want him to be safe as much as you do,” Mansur replied. He glanced at Sean. “I am grateful for you returning. Sebastian is right, of course. Faisal mistreated you, and you had every right to refuse to return. I’m glad you didn’t. Your country needs you, Mishaan. You are the only one who has a chance of preventing a civil war.”
“I wish I could be as certain of that as you are.” Sean shook his head. “Even if the chieftains are willing to overlook the fact that I’m half European and not devout, if they discovered I’m gay…” He let the sentence trail off.
Mansur nodded, his brow furrowed. “I don’t believe it is likely. You have led a life of relative anonymity and behaved with a great deal of discretion. I’ve not been able to find anything online that would give rise to speculation about your sexuality. I know only because I made it my business to learn everything I could about you — and it still took a lot of digging.”
Sean didn’t point out that while he’d been discreet, his job was the largest reason he’d not had a long-term relationship. He loved his work, and it had always come first with him. Until now.
“Then you believe it won’t be an issue?”
“I do not believe so. Needless to say, I put nothing about your sexuality in writing and never spoke of it to anyone.” Mansur smiled, but the expression was grim. “So long as you and Sebastian can keep your hands off one another and don’t provoke any palace gossip, everything should be fine. I just need time to find the traitor. Once that happens, you can give up your claim to the throne and go back to your own life. Not that we want anyone to know. We want the traitor to reveal himself rather than bide his time until you leave. As far as everyone else is concerned, you have every intention of taking Faisal’s place and ruling in your own right. Fortunately, I can assure you that the military is behind you. They follow Faisal and are loyal to the House of Rasheed.”
“Or so you believe.” Bash’s lips were set in a grim line, and his gray eyes were dark. “Your track record isn’t looking so good from where I sit.”
For the first time, Mansur looked angry. “If I could have taken that bullet instead of Faisal, I would have done so,” he snapped. “I know you don’t trust me, Sebastian. I know you blame me for Mishaan being held captive for so long. Believe it or not, I love my father, and my country, and I love Sean as well, because of the love I had for his father. Unfortunately, there was little I could do when Faisal acted without my knowledge, and Sean was never in any danger in the palace. I would die to protect him, the same as you would. Many consider me a bastard in more than one sense, but I am a man of my word. I have to be. My honor is the one thing I have that can never be taken away from me. I suspect we have that in common, do we not?”
Sean was a bit taken aback by Mansur’s vehemence, but Bash went still, his eyes wide with surprise. Then they narrowed, and Sean could see Bash mulling Mansur’s words over.
“Perhaps we do,” Bash admitted. Sean could tell that the words were grudging, but Sean had learned in the last few months that Bash was very fair-minded. “All right, I’ll take you at your word, unless I have a reason to do otherwise. But I’ll lay everything on the line. Sean’s safety is my primary concern — not Akkadia, not Faisal, not even catching your traitor. If things go down the crapper the way I’m betting they will, I’m getting him out of here. If you end up with a civil war, it won’t be his fault. And if he gets hurt or someone eventriesto hurt him, no place and no one will be safe from me. I’ll hunt down the perpetrator and kill him with my bare hands. Can you live with that?”
Mansur was quiet, gazing at Bash. Then, at last, he nodded.
“I can live with it,” he said softly. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
17
