All In (6 page)

6

LISA BEE HAD
really had enough. She wasn’t sure what she and Jackson were doing, but it felt like a wild-goose chase. Or rather, it felt like a wild-goose chase turned pub crawl. Jackson had said he was looking for an old friend who had some information, but it just seemed like they kept stopping in different bars for drinks. She was still annoyed with him for his behavior earlier, and this wasn’t helping matters. What on earth was going on?
And why did everyone he knew refer to him as Khalid?

They were in yet another bar, this one an old hole-in-the-wall that looked like a bomb shelter. It had whitewashed curved ceilings and was sparsely furnished with a small bar, no windows, and a single disco ball. Traditional Sufi music blared from a portable stereo that sat in one corner and looked like the one Lisa Bee’s parents kept on the porch for crawfish boils and fish fries when she was a kid. Jackson ordered them two Casablanca beers and sat across from her. He smiled and toasted, swallowing a large gulp. “This was my fave place to hang growing up, Lady Bee,” he said. “Mahmoud and I got in all sorts of trouble from things we planned here.”

Lisa Bee let out a long huff. “Listen, Jackie, I’d love to hear more about Mahmoud doing just about anything, but what’s going on here? Several lives are on the line, and I’m being forced to endure a walking tour of your youth. And everyone calls you Khalid. What gives?”

For the first time since Lisa Bee had known him, Jackson looked ashamed, like a boy caught stealing candy from a five-and-dime. He cast his eyes down and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all this before now, but it’s pretty complicated. My name is Khalid here in Tangier. My parents gave me two names to protect me while we traveled, and it just kinda stuck. Right now we’re waiting for the owner of this place to come back—he’s an old friend of mine. I figured we could chat a bit until he gets here, but no biggie if you don’t wanna.”

“Jackson!” she snapped. “They’re all supposedly old friends, but nobody is giving you what you need! And you won’t even tell me what we’re looking for; you just keep dragging me to place after place, telling me stories of your youth. Can’t you just tell me what the hell is going on so we can do our fucking jobs?”

Jackson looked surprised and muttered “
Dammit all to hell!
” under his breath. Then he sat up straighter and threw his shoulders back, puffing his chest out. He grabbed his beer and downed the whole thing in one fierce chug. “Sorry, Bee,” he said, trying to collect himself. “I owe you one fuck of an apology. There’s a whole community here of people who Mahmoud and I grew up with, and we think one of them might know something about the Silence, or the terrorists he sponsors. It’s the kind of groundwork we’ve always meant to do but never had the time for. The Casbah has become a breeding ground for terror cells, as well as a meeting place for international multidisciplinary criminals. I was kinda thinking the less you knew, the safer you were. But once again, I’ve totally misjudged you. I know you’re as sharp as a tack, you always see more than you let on, and I could use your eyes on this.”

Lisa Bee was surprised by his words but more pleased than she would admit aloud. She felt that they all misjudged her and treated her like she couldn’t do anything more than office work. This was bullshit and she knew it, but she was extremely validated by hearing Jackson say it. Then her eyes widened as he reached for
her
beer and chugged it. “Sorry, hon. Needed some more liquid courage.” Then he paused, still unable to speak.

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” Lisa Bee asked, looking concerned. She reached for his hand. “I mean, why have you been keeping shit from me? Are you sick or something?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“What’s bothering you? You’ve been acting so funny lately, and by ‘funny’ I mean
a total ass,
and I figured I should leave you alone till you talked to me.”

He looked into her eyes and squeezed her hand, then broke into an awkward laugh. “I am a total ass, I think we both know that. It’s part of my charm. Here’s the thing, Bee . . . Well. All this time, we’ve been working together, we’ve been great friends, right? But I’ve been wonderin’ for a while if there were some more possibilities here.”

Lisa Bee cocked her head. “I’m so sorry, honey. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jackson swallowed deeply, then squared his shoulders again. “Here’s the truth,
goddammit
. I think you are the hottest, raddest, coolest, baddest, fiercest babe I’ve ever known. I want you. I want to date you. I’ve felt this way for a while, and I haven’t said anything because you’ve been one fuck of a friend to me, and I don’t want to ruin it. But you only live once, right? So I don’t want to keep this quiet a second longer. And I see how you look at Mahmoud, and Mahmoud is awesome, that’s true, but you know what you need, babe? You need me. Me at my best. And that’s who I am when I’m with you.”

Lisa Bee was taken completely off guard. She was shocked, confused, and speechless. She managed to choke out, “But you fuck everything that’s not nailed down, Jackie. You know I’m not like that.”

He looked up, fierce determination in his eyes, and said, “That’s a bunch of bullshit, Bee. It’s just the face I show the world . . . a whole lot of talk. You’ve seen the real me. You know who I really am.”

He would’ve said more, but the owner of the bar walked in, his “old friend” Hassan, and that was the end of that. Jackson went to speak with him in the back room, leaving Lisa Bee in the care of the bartender, another of Jackson’s old friends who said he happened to have a Madonna cassette that he would be happy to play for her. He also gave her a shot of whiskey, and as she drank it, she was grateful for a moment to think about what Jackson had said. It had honestly never occurred to her that they might be anything more than friends. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but he was just a player.
Isn’t he? And what was all that bullshit about it being a whole lot of talk?

As she listened to Madonna belting out “Cherish,” Lisa Bee got a second whiskey. Well, he was gorgeous. That was obvious. He was also totally masculine, with a toned, fit body, soulful eyes, and curly thick hair. But he also had a cool sensibility; he had a hipster feel and looked great in thrift store caps and old-school sneakers. Like those cool artsy boys she grew up with on the bayou. And he was wicked funny. And kind.
When he isn’t being a jealous douche bag, apparently. Hm.
Maybe she should give it some thought? Her libido was on high in this foreign place, with all of them in hot pursuit of some crazy criminal magnate. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let off some steam. And for sure Jackson knew what he was doing. He’d certainly had enough practice. But what about their friendship? Wouldn’t sex ruin it? And what about Mahmoud? Did she actually have a thing for
him? But maybe Mahmoud didn’t have a thing for her. Well, he wasn’t her type anyway.
Right?
Good Lord, this was confusing!

She took a deep breath, felt her shoulders drop a bit, and realized how tense she’d been. Being abroad was all pretty new to her; she’d always been more of an office girl, and that was where she was most comfortable. But she had mad skills that were rarely put to the test. Maybe this was her chance
.
Ever since the last case—the one in Paris that had begun all of this—she’d become an international traveler. Previously, Lisa Bee was happy to have the others handle the international stuff: She was great with a computer, could organize, link, upload, and hack. Basic stuff, of course, nothing extraordinary. Her skills were not as advanced as AJ’s, and she was no assassin, like Tyka. She wasn’t a great marksman like Susannah, either. She was comfortable with a gun around her thigh—hell, she and her four older brothers knew their way around guns, thanks to her dad. She just hoped she’d never have to use one for more than target practice on beer cans or taking out the local possum population in her hometown. She filled a very important position with FTP on their home turf: holding down the fort. And frankly, she was happy being at home.
But what about her potential and all those things she dreamed about as a kid?
Being the hero, saving the day.
Wasn’t this her chance to prove her worth?
And couldn’t she fill a niche that none of the others could?
In this foreign place on this unusual mission, she felt her heart beat with rare excitement at the possibilities.

Lisa Bee sighed and thought about her real home. She hadn’t been back to New Orleans in a while now, and she hadn’t seen her parents or any of her brothers in over a year. She needed to make a trip back as soon as this was all over. She tried to imagine Jackson in her hometown. He’d fit in pretty well, with his kooky sense of humor and flirty ways. Above all, that’s what was most important to her: She wanted to be with someone who could hang with her friends and family, become a real part of her world. The last guy had turned out to be a jerk, and she hadn’t been with anyone in two years. She had walled up. Blocked it all out. Protected her heart and her body and thrown herself into her work. But now she felt herself coming alive again, wondering about the possibilities with Jackson. Could it be a real thing? Sitting in this foreign bar while life shifted around her, she vowed to allow herself to be open to whatever might come.

‡‡‡

JACKSON WALKED BACK IN
and saw Lisa Bee sitting with a shot in front of her, Madonna blasting from the stereo. She looked at him and smiled, and he felt his heart grow so big that it almost leaped right out of his chest. God, she was gorgeous! All that curly red hair and creamy, freckled skin. And her petite form made him feel like such a man when he was next to her. He wanted to kiss her right now, right here in the bar where he grew up. But they had work to do. Hassan had heard something on the streets a while back that could be a lead. Jackson had been right: Throughout Morocco were terrorist cells that operated almost like small gangs, with a main contact controlling all of them. It was thought that BS was this contact. So if they could find someone who knew something, that could lead them to the mastermind they hunted.

Jackson had decided that he and Lisa Bee would use the info to do a little recon, posing as boyfriend/girlfriend tourists, hoping to find his friend and get some more leads. Jackson was pysched about it, even if the relationship would just be their undercover identity. He thought it would be a wonderful beginning step to be “playing” lovers. Maybe it would be the beginning of the real thing. He was getting lost in fantasies when, suddenly, he was next to her again.

“What now, another bar?” she said. “The street where you had your first kiss? What?”

“The street where I had my first kiss is now a parking lot, but I’d be happy to park in it with you,” he said, moving a bit closer.

“Treat me like a lady or don’t treat me at all,” she reprimanded him.

“Sorry, Bee. That sucked. It was stupid of me.” He knew he had made a wrong move; he had to change his approach to her, and fast. “I know the way you are. I know what you want from a man. You’re a romantic, babe. And you need someone who is as romantic and strong and cool as you are. Sorry about all the dick jokes and all the flirty shit. It’s just what I do when I’m nervous, like a habit. But that kind of talk is too casual, and you’re not casual to me. I’m sorry if I made you think that’s all I wanted. It was me being stupid, that’s all.” He paused, taking her in. “We cool here?”

She smiled at him. He liked that she looked surprised and pleased by his honesty. He’d have to do it more often if that’s what she wanted to see. “We’re cool, Jackie. And nothing about you is stupid—you’re just a clown sometimes. But I will say it’s awfully nice when you’re real with me. I think I just need some time to process this, that’s all.”

“Great,” he said. “How ’bout a five-hour moped ride to some amazing caves down south? Hassan had a lead that may pan out. We’ll have to dress like tourists, though. How does that sound?”

“How’s that different from how I’m dressed now?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, looking at her pale pink jean skirt with a sheer pink-and-white-checkered top, “not that different, I guess. We just need some stuff we can do some climbing in. I’ve got a friend who’s got a bunch of spelunking gear—we can swing by his place first. And I think it’s best if we act like we’re on a romantic trip. It’s a better cover. Cool by you?”

“Cool by me,” she said. “When do you want to go?”

“How’s now? We can check things out late tonight. Or we could sleep on it and get started first thing in the morning.”

“Awesome,” she said, invigorated by the chance to do some real legwork. “Let’s shoot a quick email to the Boss and get going. I’m ready to rock!” She stood up and realized she was a bit drunk. “Actually,” she said, “maybe we should eat something first. I think I drank too much whiskey.”

“Sounds great,” Jackson said. “We’ll get a firm plan together and leave ASAP. And I’ll cook you dinner at Mahmoud’s place. Homemade falafel is one of my secret weapons.” She laughed loudly, and he reveled in it. “And Bee?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I know you’re still processing, but I’m in with both feet. This is only the beginning. I’m gonna woo you like you’ve never been wooed before.”

“
Rockin’
,” she said, and hiccupped. “I can’t wait to see you try.”

‡‡‡

CHAS AND SUSANNAH
had landed in Johannesburg and were now in the northwest suburb of Melville, near the university, at the door of the safe house that Mahmoud had sent them to. Chas knocked on the door three times, and a small slat opened in the middle of the door. A low soft voice asked, “
Qui vous a envoyé
?
” and Susannah, who knew French through her father’s side of the family, answered: “
Nous venons de
Mahmoud Assouline.” The door was quickly opened, and a woman wearing a veil welcomed them in. “Chas! Susannah! I am Amal, welcome.” She closed the door before taking off the veil. Susannah saw she was stunningly beautiful, small, curvy, and exotic-looking, with olive skin and dark eyes. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said.