Page 7 of Her Fearless Warrior

Ick!

“What? We don’t have much time. What do you need?” The man blustered.

Leila pushed out her boobs, what little she had. “I just know you could figure out a way to get that man’s attention so Felix could look to see if the bodyguards were carrying any hidden weapons. You’re the only one who could capture his attention. I just know it.”

Katherine Cole made a sound behind them that sounded like she was choking. Leila knew she was trying not to laugh.

“Can you tell me the word for doctor in Arabic?” Landry asked. As the interpreter for the small delegation, Landry knew Leila would know the word.

Leila sounded out the Arabic word for doctor. After five tries, Landry still wasn’t getting the correct pronunciation.

“Why don’t you ask?” he wanted to know in frustration.

“Because we don’t want any of them to realize she knows their language. She will be our ace in the hole,” Katherine said. Katherine repeated the word for doctor in Arabic. She walked over to Landry and casually wiped her hands on his open wound, smearing her hands with his blood. “Come on, Robert. Let’s go distract the boy. I might not have the femme fatale look like I did in my younger days, but I sure can play the mama card.”

“But he’s dangerous. He cut me.”

God, please don’t let the big bastard start whining.

Katherine yanked on the beefy man’s arm and they moved forward, blocking the view of the two dead men. She started talking and Leila smiled as she saw that the older woman was definitely getting the young man’s attention.

2

Leila took Nottingham and Felix took Unger. She rested her hand on Nottingham’s chest and closed her eyes for a brief moment, praying that God would look out for these two brave men. Then she got to work. She pulled up both of Nottingham’s pant legs. She found a Sig P365.

Score.

Come on, pal, what else have you got?

She did a thorough check of both arms and came up with nothing. There was nothing around his body except for an empty shoulder holster.

“Look on his belt buckle,” Felix said. “He might have a knife.”

She looked but saw nothing. Felix left Unger and came over to her and squatted over Nottingham. He turned the man’s body onto his stomach and lifted his jacket. Same thing that Leila had done, but then Felix showed her the knife sheath that was hooked horizontally into the belt. He pulled a wicked-looking knife out of the sheath.

“You’re good,” Leila grinned.

“Lots of practice,” Felix gave her a wan smile. He pulled the knife sheath off of Nottingham’s body and connected it to his belt. “Unger had a Glock 43. What did you get?”

She looked up and saw that Katherine and Landry were still at it, then turned her attention back to Felix.

“Sig P365. Any preference?” she asked.

“No,” Felix answered. “You?”

“I’ve trained more with the Glock,” she admitted.

He handed the Glock and an extra magazine to her, and she handed over the Sig with the extra magazine.

They stood up and moved back to where the last two members of the delegation were standing. Sam Phelps looked shell-shocked and Annie Trent had stopped crying, so that was a plus.

Leila’s head swung back to Landry, Katherine, and their captor, as the young man let loose a torrent of Arabic. Katherine was trying to diffuse the situation, but by the sounds of things, Landry had pissed the kid off. Leila might have asked for a diversion, but not fucking World War III.

Leila rushed up to where the arguing was going on. She understood what the kid was saying, and it wasn’t good. He had his cell phone out and was planning to ask his leader if he had permission to kill one of the prisoners now.

Nope, not good at all.

Leila pushed her way between Landry and Katherine, then fell down at their feet, right in front of their captor. “Help,” she said in Arabic. “Please.” Another word in Arabic. She made sure that her pronunciation was terrible.