An explosion rent the air. Something splattered over the table beyond her, spewing tiny droplets over her.
A look of startled amazement claimed Carlos’s face for a split second before he collapsed heavily atop her.
Gasping for air, Ami shoved him off and scrambled away from the table.
She slipped and fell to her hands and knees, her gaze glued to what remained of the back of Carlos’s head.
Her throat burned…her skull throbbed…her sides ached. Tears scalded her eyes and cheeks. She scrubbed the tears and the blood from her face.
She had to think. She had to get away. Had to run…the other men—
The sound of footsteps approaching jerked her gaze upward.
Michal.
She wept, the anguish pouring out of her in soul-shaking sobs.
He offered his hand, gently helping her to her feet.
She went into his arms, unable to stop the tears. Tears for the child she would never see again…tears for the man whose life she could not save…
Nothing she could do…
Tanner had been right…there was no way back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MICHAL STAREDdown at her. He wanted to rant at her. To demand answers. But his heart would not allow him to press her under the circumstances. He glared at Carlos’s motionless body. The traitor.
But then, what did he expect in this world of murder for hire?
Squashing all emotion so that he could do what must be done, he offered his hand. Shaking, she took it, and he assisted her to her feet. “Go to your room.”
She wiped at the tears dampening her face with the backs of her hands and nodded mutely before fleeing the scene of betrayal and death.
Michal leaned down and picked up the Bible lying sprawled on the floor. Had one of his men brought it here? Frowning, he skimmed through its pages before setting it aside on the table. He wanted answers. Carlos’s treachery he had suspected for weeks now, was not surprised to see it reach fruition. The others, however, were a definite surprise.
Leaving the dead traitor where he lay, Michal stalked into the great room expecting to be met with drawn weapons and suspicions.
“I tried to stop him,” Thomas said quietly. “But he was intent on interrogating her.”
“Interrogating her?” Michal demanded, his tone as deadly as the weapon he still held in his right hand, the barrel still warm from his recent kill. “You call his actions ‘interrogation’?”
Thomas shrugged but remained silent.
Michal scanned their faces, making direct eye contact with each one of them in turn. “Is there anyone else who would wish tointerrogateme?” He pressed them with a long, hard look, ensuring they understood the depth of his fury. “For if you question Amira, you question me.”
Not a single word was uttered in defiance of his statement; nor was any move made to overtake him.
“A good man,” Michal said then, “is dead because he chose to betray me. If any of you—” he surveyed face after face once more “—prefers to take your loyalties elsewhere, then do so. I will not tolerate disloyalty.”
“We are with you,” the Spaniard said. “Carlos tried to convince us that you had grown weak, but we did not believe him.”
“I only have one question,” another said as he settled onto one of the sofas. “How are we going to split Carlos’s cut of the Libyan mission?”
The room burst into laughter, shattering the formidable tension in a heartbeat. Whatever Carlos had hoped to achieve had vanished just as quickly as he had.
“I can assure you,” Michal said with a smile, his relief complete now, “all will be satisfied.”
