I nod. He’s right. He’s also thirty-six and looks like a baby compared to me. But Dax and I hired him on the spot when we interviewed him. He’s brilliant. Can analyze ten different outcomes in a matter of moments, then give you the run-down on pros and cons of each. Not to mention his tech skills. He’s no Wren, but he’s made his bones in the field.
“You have to trust me. I spent five years running between Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, and Pakistan. I know the people, the customs, and the secrets. We won’t get to Kabul for at least five hours. You focus on the endgame, you understand? Sleep, and for fuck’s sake, let me do my thing. It’s the only way this works.”
Two quick raps on the office door have us both turning in unison, and Trevor’s hand goes to his hip—the guy’s been packing the whole time, while my weapons are still safely stowed in my go bag.
A short, stocky man with black hair, a full beard, and ice in his blue eyes steps into the room. “Never thought I’d see you back here again, Moana.”
“Nomar.” The tension between them could cut glass, and I push to my feet.
“You know each other?” I ask.
Trevor snorts. “You could say that.”
With a small shake of his head, Nomar grabs my hand and pulls me in for a one-armed hug. “Good to see you again, Ford. Sorry it’s under these circumstances. If we’re going to make Kabul before the air traffic controllers I bribed go off shift, we need to head out right now. Grab your gear.” He turns on his heel and strides back through the door, Trevor following too quickly for me to ask him what the fuck just happened.
But as soon as I’m buckled into the jump seat on a plane that looks more like a toy than anything else, I give them both a hard stare. “I don’t know what’s up between the two of you, but if you let it affect this mission—”
“Classified,” both men say at once.
Trevor turns and clamps a hand down on my shoulder as Nomar pulls on his ear protection and starts flipping switches and levers, the plane’s engines roaring to life. “We’re all on the same side, Ford. I don’t have to like the guy to work with him. It’s enough that I respect his skills.”
“Agreed,” Nomar says. “What happened in Qatar…stays there. All that matters now is getting Joey back.”
I relax against the seat and close my eyes. Trev’s right. I’m no good to anyone if I can’t think straight. The three of us are going to have a serious talk before this is all over, but right now, I need to rest so I’m on top of my game. Joey needs me.
Joey
My eyelids feel like sandpaper, and my stomach does somersaults as I stand in front of Faruk to report on my progress. “Mateen’s anemia is much better, but the more transfusions I give him, the higher his iron levels are going to be. I need a way to chelate his blood. Until he’s stable for at least a week, I won’t be able to even guess at the amounts of the various drugs in the cocktail to give him.”
“You are stalling, Josephine.” Faruk arches a brow, approaching with his hands clasped behind his back. I drop my gaze, fighting my urge to bolt. He doesn’t seem like the type of man to get his hands dirty, and Zaman looms behind me. “Would you like to spend a few nights in the hole?”
“N-no, please.” Shrinking away from him, I hug myself tightly. “If I start him on the cocktail now…he could die. The final components only came in this morning. I…can show you my notes. All my calculations. I wrote that paper seven years ago. Two of the drugs have had formula changes since then. I have to redo all of my testing to make sure they won’t kill him.”
“Excuses.” Faruk shakes his head and waves Zaman over.
I can’t let them take me to that dark hole. I’ll never survive a night there. Straightening my shoulders and rooting my feet to the floor, I raise my head and stare Faruk in his stormy gray eyes. “If I rush this process, Mateen will suffer—he could even die. He’s a smart boy. A good boy. And he’s my patient. I may hate you and what you’ve done to bring me here, but I will treat him. I haven’t stopped…haven’t taken a break. You should know. You’re watching me every minute. I made a lot of progress today, but I won’t risk his life if I’m not 100% positive the cocktail is safe.”
For several long minutes, we stare at one another. I can’t hear anything but my own heartbeat roaring in my ears. Have I just sealed my own fate? Or bought myself another few days?
“You have much to learn about respect, Josephine,” Faruk says, and Zaman tightens his hands around my upper arms, giving me a hard shake. He’s pressed to my back, and I want to throw up, but I’m too terrified with Faruk only two feet away. “The next time you speak to me that way, you will spend a night in the hole. Zaman, take her back to her room.”
I’m so relieved, I don’t even realize until I’m locked in that I never got lunch or dinner.
7
Ford
The dim lights and dark corners set my nerves on edge as Trev and I follow a pair of heavily armed men through a crowded restaurant on the western edge of Kabul. It’s a little after seven—prime dinner hour—but the restaurant is a known front for all kinds of illegal activity. Drugs, guns…and flesh.
“Remember, let me do the talking,” Trevor whispers. “You’ll just get us all killed.”
“Your confidence in me is inspiring.” He’s probably not wrong. Despite catching an hour of sleep on the plane and another three hours at a tiny CIA safehouse in the middle of the city, I know I’m not at my best.
“Ford—”
“I know.” Tugging at the loose charcoal jacket over the black t-shirt, I tamp down the urge to remind him I’m technically his boss. Here, he’s in charge, and I’m the grunt doing what I’m told. We dressed the parts. His suit cost double what mine did.
“You have the cash?” one of the AK-47 wielding goons asks as he rests his hand on a biometric keypad. A green light scans his palm, then the lock clicks open, but he doesn’t move to let us through.
