“Indeed,” Nick agreed. “Russia has a definite interest in putting someone on the throne who will work with them instead of with the US and UK. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve supported a silent coup or used Wagner Group to create chaos so they can swoop in and take control of a situation.”
Bash thought furiously. This changed things. No longer were they looking for what was simply an ambitious traitor within the Akkadian power dynamic, but an international bid for control — and against a group who wouldn’t hesitate to use any weapon at their disposal to achieve their objective. It made the kidnapping which had originally brought Bash to Akkadia make more sense. If Wagner Group was behind it, likely they had wanted to use an innocent family to extort something out of the American government that would favor Russian aims in the region.
Mansur looked furious, obviously not liking the thought of Russian involvement having escaped his intelligence net. But Sean’s expression was so alarmed that Bash reached out to take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“If we find Carapov and the traitor, what’s to keep Wagner Group from trying again and again until they succeed?” Bash asked. “Will anyone on the throne be safe?”
“Leave that to me.” Nick’s voice was harsh. “Your mission is to find the targets and prevent another assassination. I’ll use my contacts to make certain Akkadia’s allies understand the situation. Once the CIA and MI-6 are alerted, the game changes. Plots like this can only succeed in secrecy. Groups like Wagner and countries like Russia try to keep these plots in darkness so they don’t face international backlash.”
“Understood,” Bash replied. “Mansur, I think you should look through any surveillance you have on our suspects. See if you have anything linking them or any of their associates to the Russians. Phone calls, personal meetings, anything that would give us a link.”
“Definitely,” Mansur agreed. “Nick, I may need your help with that. There is a lot of material to go through.”
“Of course.” Nick was quiet for a moment. “Bash, you need to work quickly. I think it’s safe to say they won’t stop until Faisal, Sean, and anyone else standing between their puppet and the throne are dead.”
Bash smiled grimly, then looked at Sean, feeling the resolution hardening within him. “Not if I kill them first.”
23
There were hands reaching out, and Sean recoiled, not knowing if they were friendly or menacing. He couldn’t see faces, just that mass of hands, reaching, touching, tugging, pulling him one way, then another. They were all around him, below him and above, catching at his legs and feet, tangling in his hair. It was terrifying, because there didn’t seem to be an escape. And somewhere in that mass was someone who didn’t just want to hurt him. They wanted to rend him limb from limb, to suffocate him, to stab him, shoot him, to leave him broken and bleeding and dead.
He thrashed, trying to push them all away, but there were always more hands, millions of them. Where was Bash? Why wasn’t he here? No one would touch him if Bash was there. He looked around desperately, then saw an opening in the sea of faceless hands. He saw Bash on the ground, lying in an awkward sprawl. Crying out in fear, he tried to push his way toward his lover, but he couldn’t fight the tide that was pulling him back, pulling him away, toward a black, formless danger that waited somewhere.
“No!”
Sean sat up, breathing hard, feeling sweat trickling icily down his face and back. He looked around, not recognizing where he was. It was dark, no light leaking in around the edges of the heavy draperies at the windows. Finally, he recognized the bedroom and pushed back the heavy covers that felt like the hands he had been fighting against. His heart was still racing in the aftermath of the nightmare, but he breathed slowly and deeply, trying to calm himself.
The door to the room opened, and his heart leapt in fear, until he recognized the form of Bash in the doorway. There was a gun in his hand, and he glanced quickly at Sean before his gaze searched the room. Apparently, he found nothing suspicious since he lowered the gun. Bash was wearing sweatpants and a tank top, his feet bare.
“Are you all right? I heard you call out.”
“Sorry I woke you up. It was just a bad dream.”
“It’s not a problem.” Bash walked over to the bed. He put his gun down on the bedside table, then sat down on the mattress, wrapping his arms around Sean and offering the comfort of his embrace. “And not surprising you’d have nightmares with everything going on.”
Sean clung to Bash, taking comfort in the strength of his arms and the warmth of his body. Even though it had only been a few days, it felt as though years had passed since they’d last made love, since he’d been able to lose himself, however briefly, in the welcome oblivion of their union. But the risk seemed greater now they knew what they were up against, and Bash was unwilling to let his guard down, lest everything “fell into the crapper,” as he put it, and they were caught vulnerable and unawares. No doubt Bash even slept with one figurative eye open, since it had probably been no more than five seconds from the time Sean had called out until Bash entered the room.
“I hate it,” Sean admitted quietly. “Is that weak of me? To want this to all go away, for us to be anywhere else than here?”
“No, it’s not weak.” Bash pulled back slightly so Sean could meet his eyes. “You weren’t born to this, you didn’t expect it, and God knows not many men can handle the thought of having an internationally known assassin gunning for them. Just say the word, and we’re gone. I’m not going to judge you. If you want to give up being Crown Prince, it’s your call.”
“But I’d judge me,” Sean said. “Leaving now would put others in danger, and it wouldn’t fix anything. I guess the vow to do no harm goes too deep for me to ignore it, no matter what. We’re stuck here until we find the traitor. If I were to leave now and everything went to hell, I’d never be able to live with myself.”
“I suppose so,” Bash replied reluctantly. “You worry about Akkadia, andI’llworry aboutyou.”
Bash’s firm tone made Sean smile. He craned up, brushing his lips lightly against Bash’s. “Thanks. I think that…”
A loud knock suddenly sounded from the sitting room, and before Sean realized what was happening, Bash was out of the bed and on his feet, gun once again in his hand.
“Stay here, I’ll answer it,” Bash said, then left the room, closing the door behind himself.
Sean quickly got out of bed, reaching for his robe. As he belted it on, he heard voices in the outer room, then a perfunctory knock sounded on his bedroom door.
“Enter!” he called out, and the door opened to reveal Bash again, with Mansur right behind him. His uncle was fully dressed, and his expression was one of tension, even as he bowed to Sean.
“Prince Mishaan, your grandfather is conscious. You must come immediately.”
Startled, Sean glanced at Bash, whose face reflected Mansur’s own strain. “Of course, at once,” he replied, sliding his feet into slippers.
