Blood sliding from his busted lip and quickly swelling eye, Razam huffed. “I saw himtouchyou, and—”
“You fool!” She peered through the bars of the iron gate. Across the way. Saw Rage stalking away from the chief, but then his gaze skidded to hers. And he slowed. Stilled. Frowned.
Of all the men for Razam to pick a fight with, it had to be with the one man who could figure out her secret and steal it from the cage in which she’d locked it.
CHAPTERFOUR
CIA Safehouse, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
Nothing tormented him like sleep.Or the lack thereof.
Of course, this would be where Mom told him he wouldn’t have sleep problems if he’d read his Bible.
Dragging himself off the vinyl mattress, Range groaned. Sat, elbows on his knees, as he roughed a hand over his face and yawned. He stared at the concrete floor, frustrated he couldn’t connect the dots and get some shut-eye. Hated this—the pieces were right there, lurking in the shadows of his mind.
Shoving to his feet, he snagged his shirt. Headed across the courtyard. Punched in his code to the main building, and threaded his way to the gym. He flipped the switch, throwing light across the workout equipment. Most places he’d been deployed to and ships he’d been on had workout rooms that were all dingy and smelly. Not this one. At least the CIA had done one thing right here.
After stretching, Range spent fifteen minutes jump-roping, then moved to the pull-up bar and did twenty reps. Then a variety of push-ups and planks to build his strength. Beat his body into submission, since his mind seemed unwilling to submit and surrender whatever truth it held hostage. He wasn’t one to give up easily. Never had been. Especially when he was right.
And he was—something was off with the madam. Or the interrogation. Maybe they just weren’t asking the right questions.
He prepped a stack of 450-lbs on the bench-press bar and secured them, his thoughts flicking back to the terp and her brown eyes. Laying back, he thought about the way that guy in the yard had come at him. Punched him—not the worst he’d taken one from, but no featherweight either. After a quick confrontation, he’d subdued the guy, flatting him against the concrete block wall. Drove his fist into his face.
Didn’t make sense for the guy to sit in lock-up all day then suddenly fly at Range.
Unless there was something between him and the interpreter. Likely possibility. She was attractive, intelligent … Men here had a sense of honor that was quickly vanishing back home. Had to admire the guy if he was defending her. Respected it. Couldn’t blame him either. She seemed a caring, compassionate woman. Stepping in to help.
Yet … hadn’t there been a strangeness between her and the madam in that interview room? Almost like the madam felt bad for Malala’s injuries. Not something he’d expected, since the girl was one of her captives. The seeming concern, he guessed, could be attributed to the madam wanting her property undamaged.
Settling back against the vinyl bench, he adjusted his spine and lifted. Grunted through a handful of reps. Recalled the way she’d watched him after he’d subdued the guy. Nah, it wasn’t the way she’d watched him—though, maybe in some way it was, but more than that … The way theothersin the yard had held back. Watched her. Eyes shocked. As if it’d been something they’d never seen before.
His arms trembled as he tried to lift the bar. With a few staccato breaths, he readied to exert his strength and land the bar in the braces. But it didn’t land there. The left side missed. Canted.
“Whoa!” Pike was there, catching it. “You idiot—why don’t you have a spotter?”
Relieved as the bar clanged in the brace, Range pried himself up. Grabbed his sweat rag and wiped his face. “That’d defeat the purpose.”
The chief glowered. “Of?”
“Working out alone.”
“Something bugging you?”
Range sniffed. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “This whole thing.”
“Something’s missing.”
“Yeah …” Range’s gaze bounced around the gym. “I guess. Not sure what. Something’s definitely off, though.” Noting Pike wore his tac shirt and pants, Range squinted up at him. “You need something?”
With a huff, the chief yanked his head toward the door. “Come on. Need to show you something.”
Range stood to follow, then got a whiff of himself. “Give me five to shower.”
“Make it ten. Your stink led me right to you.” Pike grinned and stalked out.
After a quick shower and change, Range headed upstairs. There were always a couple of analysts working round-the-clock to monitor intel, security detail walking the U-shaped buildings and courtyard, and at least one watching the security cameras.
This morning, the latter was Luther Landry. “Kinda early for you, isn’t it, Pretty Boy?”
