She searched his eyes, and he tried his best to look innocent. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded, because she harrumphed. But shedidopen the door, and then…
He was in! Inside her hotel room! For. The.Duration.
He would never have guessed when it started that this would turn out to be the best night of his life.
* * *
11:50 p.m.
A knock on the door had Izad jumping to his feet, his heart a wild thing in his chest. His mind silently screaming one word. One name.Kazem!
Was it possible his son had returned to Key West? Had he lost his burner phone in the melee, and that’s why he didn’t call them once he got within cellular tower coverage?
Hope was a flame inside Izad’s heart. It burned as brightly as the fires at the festival of Sadeh. But it guttered and died when Nazim opened the door, and instead of Kazem standing on the threshold, it was Omid.
Not that it wasn’t nice to see a loyal member of his security team, but Izad wanted only one thing now. His boy. His precious, precious son.
Well,twothings. His son and Mason McCarthy’s head on a platter.
He did not wait for Omid to finish pouring himself a glass of water before demanding, “Well? What can you tell us?”
Omid thirstily drained the water, and it took every bit of restraint Izad possessed not to slap the glass from the man’s hands. Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that Omid had spent hours in the wind and the sun, watching and gathering information.
Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, Omid finally said, “Cas has gone to the morgue where the authorities have taken the bodies. He’ll wait until the wee hours to slip inside to make an identification.”
Izad refused to allow his mind to even touch on the notion that one of the bodies might be Kazem’s. No. His son was still on the missing speedboat. Kazem was alive. Hehadto be. Izad could not lose everything. Everyone.
“In the meantime,” Omid continued, “You should know that McCarthy is staying here at the hotel. I followed his group from the docks and I know which room is his.”
Izad let his head fall back on his neck. Closing his eyes, he lifted his hands in silent prayer. When he lowered his chin, he voice was steely. “So we do it here. Now. Tonight.”
In Kazem’s name. In Hettie’s name. In the names of all my sons.
“Whoa. Whoa. Wait a damn minute.” The American quickly stood from the sofa. “It’s one thing to plan an attack out on the open ocean. But killing a man in a hotel is something else entirely. There are security cameras inside and out. The instant his body is found, the cops will comb through the footage and they’ll find you. They’ll findallof you. They’ll find me too.”
“We will be long gone by then,” Izad assured him.
“Youhope. But even if McCarthy’s crew doesn’t notice he’s missing until, say, oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning, that’s still only a handful of hours for us to get the hell out of the country.”
“Sit down and shut up,” Izad snarled. “I am sick of your bellyaching.”
All the man ever did was spout worst-case scenarios. If Izad had cowered in the face of whatcouldhappen every time he came up against adversity, he would never had risen to the rank of commodore. Bravery, quick decisions, and the fortitude to see a thing through,thatwas what made a man.
The American closed his mouth, but refused to sit.
Izad was tempted to give Navid a nod. His head of security wouldn’t hesitate to swiftly kick the backs of the American’s knees andforcehim to sit, which Izad would find immensely satisfying. However,anotherthing that made a man was the ability to focus on the important things. And right now, what was important was Mason McCarthy and the fact that he still drew breath.
“Thoughts on how we should do it?” he asked the men gathered around him.
“Hell, no.” The American made for the door. “It’s too risky. I didn’t sign up for this.”
This time, Izaddidnod at Navid, who stepped in front of the American, a staying hand pressed firmly against the man’s chest.
The American glanced down at Navid’s hand, and then up at Izad. There was anger in his eyes. But also fear.
“We cannot let you leave,” Izad told him, his tone sinister. “You know too much for us to trust you not to go to the authorities.”
The American’s jaw unhinged. “And tell themwhat? Anything I have on you would implicate me.”
