Breaking Through (Book 2 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers) (35 page)

“Thank you, Amira.” He rose to his feet and offered Levla his hand.

Her fingers were cold and she was trembling.

He rested his hand against her waist as they left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the formal living room where they received visitors. The only time he used this room was to entertain guests. The less formal living area for the family was next door. He eyed the stiff, formal furnishings without interest.

The tall man who rose to his feet looked imposing because of his height and the intensity of his expression. His bright red hair and beard looked so
American
. Another man, an Iraqi, stood beside him.

“I am Yasin al-Yussuf. This is my wife Levla.”

Both men shook his hand and tipped their heads to Levla.

The red-haired man said, “My name is Ian Kelly and this is Ahmed Hannah, a reporter for Al Zaman.”

“Please sit down.” Yasin motioned to the two large chairs and guided Levla to the long couch positioned against the interior wall of the room away from the windows. How long would it be before they no longer had to live in fear of a bomb blast or stray bullet? “What do you wish to ask?”

“We have been all over the city and have learned about many missing boys, just like your son, Mr. al-Yussuf,” Ian said.

Yasin had heard the rumors, but had not believed Sanjay was one of the boys. “Yes?”

“Ahmed and I want to bring enough attention to this issue that the American military will become involved and help find the boys. They have the technology and the resources. I’ve already been to the Iraqi police and spoken with several members of the government.” His features creased in a frown. “I’m afraid this may not be one of their top priorities. They are overwhelmed.”

“But the American military may be more helpful?” Yasin asked. Was that hope he heard in his  own voice?  Was he actually allowing it to grow in his heart as well?

“It would be in their best interest to help because they are trying to build a cooperative relationship with your people and your country. It would also be good international public relations. No one, no matter what their nationality, likes it when children are abducted and hurt.”

“That’s how we are trying to approach the story,” Ahmed Hannah said.

“Where do you think they are taking the boys?” Yasin asked.

Ahmed spoke. “There have been reports from witnesses that men have forced the boys into pickup trucks at gunpoint. But who these men are isn’t clear. Perhaps Taliban.  Perhaps al-Qaeda. We do not want to speculate about who they are or where they may be. But we all know where the training camps have been destroyed in the past.”

“When your son disappeared, did anyone see him on the street? Has anyone come forward with any information?” Ian asked.

Yasin looked to Levla. At the anguish in her face, he shook his head. “No one has come forward.”

“Do you have a picture of your son we might have? It will help in our hunt for him, and the military’s.”

“Levla?” Yasin gestured to her, and she quickly rose to her feet and left the room.

“Do you believe your son may have been abducted like the others? Or is there a possibility he may have left home for some other reason?” Ian asked.

Would it make a difference if he told them of the fight Sanjay and Levla had had? Would they think he might have run away? “Sanjay had no reason to leave our home.”

The two reporters looked at each other. “What direction would he have gone if he had arrived home, then left again?” Ian asked.

“I thought perhaps west,” Yasin offered. “That would have been toward his friend’s house.”

“What is his friend’s name?”

“Gabir Abbas. But I have already spoken to him, and he did not see Sanjay.”

“So Sanjay may have been taken somewhere between here and the Abbas’ house,” Ian said.

“If you would be so kind, we would appreciate it if you could call the Abbas household and ask if we might talk to Gabir when we leave here. It will smooth the way,” Ahmed said.

“Certainly.”  Yasin nodded. Levla returned with a five by seven photograph of Sanjay. Her eyes grew wet with tears as she handed it to him and he patted the sofa cushion for her to sit down again. He’d hired a photographer the year before to take pictures of his wife and children. Living on the edge of a war zone had given him the idea that he wanted some kind of representation of them, should the unthinkable happen. He paused to study the color photo. Sanjay was short of stature and thin, but the image captured the intensity of his personality. His brown eyes, so much like Levla’s, looked alight with concentration. Yasin extended the picture to Ian. “I have had some contact with the base commanding officer here.”

“Captain Morrow?”

“Yes. He is already aware of Sanjay’s disappearance.”

“We intend to see him tomorrow and give him the information we’ve compiled. We need to know if your son has any birthmarks, moles, distinctive features, that kind of thing that could help identify him.”

“He has a small overlap of his front teeth that is not evident in the picture, since he is not smiling, but no marks.”

After he had given them information about Sanjay’s height and weight, and answered a few more questions, the two rose to leave. “I will call the Abbas’ house and encourage them to meet with you.” He handed each of the men a business card with his contact information on it and closed the door behind them. His muscles shook from the release of tension that followed their departure. Would they be able to find Sanjay?
Please, Allah.

Would they investigate him? Would they find some evidence of his contact with Tabarek? Surely not. No one knew they had met, and the phone he used to speak to Tabarek was anonymous and untraceable. Wasn’t it? He was safe, for now.
But was Sanjay?

***

Russell knocked on Brett’s apartment door and glanced up and down the hall. The idea that Clara had actually come here alone to clean the apartment in preparation for Brett’s coming home was mind-boggling. What had she been thinking?

He heard steps approaching the door and a pause. At least she was checking through the peephole.

The door opened and a young man, vaguely familiar, stood in the doorway. Russell’s gaze moved past him to Clara standing just behind him. The tension in his back and shoulders relaxed somewhat.

The bruise along her jaw had turned green and was only faintly visible. The brace they’d given her was absent.

“Good to see you, Captain Connelly,” the man said and offered his hand.

Recognition struck Russell. He’d met him at the hospital during Brett’s stint as his patient. “Ensign Rivera, isn’t it?”

“Bowie.”

He shook the hand Bowie offered. “I appreciate you keeping Clara company.”

“No problem, sir.” Bowie smiled flashing dimples and white teeth. His swarthy skin appeared darker than the last time Russell had seen him. He remembered he was a member of Hawk’s team.

“How was the desert?” Russell asked as Bowie stepped back to allow him to enter the apartment.

“Hot as hel-Hades.” He glanced in Clara’s direction. “Sorry, Mrs. Weaver.”

“For what?” She shot him a smile. “What can I do for you, Russell?”

“I thought you might have come over here alone, and I was concerned.”

“Bowie came over to keep an eye on things while I cleaned up and packed Brett a suitcase. I’ve tried to talk Brett into staying at Hawk’s house, but he insists he’s going to a hotel. Hawk’s security system is state of the art, and he’s even put in cameras around the exterior of the house.”

“You know why they’re staying away from each other, Clara.”

“I know, but I don’t have to like it. He’s hurt, and he’s so vulnerable right now.”

“He’s still a SEAL, Clara. And hurt or not, he knows how to handle himself. You know that.”

She compressed her lips. “I have to finish this.” She turned and went into the bedroom.

Were they getting ready to have their first fight? Russell glanced at Bowie.

“She’s already heard the same thing from me, Doc. She’s got her momma bear vibe going.”

“So I see.”

“I can hear every word you two are saying,” Clara said from the bedroom.

Bowie grinned.

“I’ll just talk with her.” Russell pointed at the bedroom.

Bowie lowered his voice. “Good luck.”

Russell strode to the bedroom. “Can I help with anything?”

Clara shook her head. “He said casual and about a week’s worth of clothing. I’ll put in a couple pair of dress slacks, just in case.”

“Brett is just as worried about you as you are about him, Clara. Why do you think he suggested you call Bowie to come over?”

“How do you know he did?”

“Because I know how independent you are. And I know how protective he is.”

She bit her lip.

“Evan needs to go back to San Francisco to see his doctor. He wants you to go with us,” Russell said.

“I can’t go, Russell. I can’t leave Brett.”

“This would be the day after tomorrow. Brett’s out of the hospital and back on the mend. I’ve examined him myself.”

“I can’t leave him, Russell. If something happened, I’d feel like I’d abandoned him when he needed me.”

Russell sat on the bed and took her hand. “I’m not asking you to choose between our children, Clara. Brett wants you to go with us. He asked me to get you out of town for a few days until this guy is caught. I want you to go with us.”

“He really asked you to take me out of town?” Her tone fell somewhere between hurt and exasperation.

“You can identify the shooter, Clara. You got a close look at him. Brett’s afraid for you. I’m afraid for you, too.”

Her gaze shifted away. “I need to talk to Brett first.”

“Okay.” Russell rested his cheek against her palm then turned his lips against it. “I know Brett needs you. He’ll always need you. He’s your child. But I need you, too.”

Worry drew her brows together. “Is Evan all right?”

No he wasn’t. He was losing ground every day. And it was killing him, knowing there was nothing he could do. “Evan is doing as well as can be expected. But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve been afraid to come over.”

“I know. But if you go out of town with us, you’ll be out of harm’s way, and that will be one less concern for Brett to deal with. It will leave him free to concentrate on himself. And you’ll be safe because no one will know you’re with us.”

“But Zoe will be here alone.”

“Hawk’s got that covered. They’re going to stay with friends a few days.”

“It seems the three of you have it all worked out.”

Was that a note of pique in her voice? “If you all go in different directions, they’ll have a harder time figuring out where you might be. It’s just for a few days.”

He could see she recognized the logic of it. “I’ll take you home in my car just to be certain you’re safe.”

“Hawk dropped me off and will be back to pick me up.”

“I want to spend some time with you, Clara.”

Color flooded her face and then she smiled, her expression seductive, yet shy. A tight knot clogged his throat. She was so much what he needed and wanted. If anything happened to her—He couldn’t go through that again. He had to keep her safe. She had to go to San Francisco with them.

CHAPTER 29

Hawk stood before Captain Jackson’s desk as he pulled a folder toward him. He’d seen the man be a total asshole under pressure, but he’d never seen him sweat. And he was sweating now. His expression remained so controlled that his features looked wooden.

The muffled sound of someone walking down the hall at a quick clip traveled through the door then receded. The smell of the industrial wax used on the floor lingered. Hawk remained at parade rest rather than take the hard-backed seat Jackson had pointed to. If this were bad news, he’d take it standing.

“There’s someone high up the food chain who’s been pulling reports about every mission your team participated in while in Iraq. Those you led in particular,” Jackson said, finally breaking the silence.

“What do you think they’re looking for?”

“Any instance that you or your team may have screwed up.”

The words
fuck you
hung on the tip of Hawk’s tongue. “We didn’t screw up.”

Jackson raised a brow.

Hawk’s temper fired and he mentally counted to ten. “If you really want to start pointing fingers, we can do that. I have copies of every report I made in Iraq and the ones I’ve filed since. That includes my conversations with you about Derrick Armstrong before and after his meltdown. I’ve followed protocol in every situation. Nothing we’ve done can be considered a fuckup.”

“You’d better hope you’re right, Lieutenant.”

Hawk took several deep breaths and forced the angry tension from his muscles. It was counterproductive to punch your commanding officer. “It might be helpful if we knew who gained access to our files.”

“I don’t know who specifically, but they’re using the reach of the Senate Arms Committee to gain access.”

Rob Welch. Who were the other two Tess had mentioned? Brett had spoken to him weeks ago about Tess’s suspicions that they were using the negative situations that had happened to their team to put pressure on the committee to cut funding.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“No, I’m not. Brett said there are three members of the committee who have a record of unsupportive behavior toward the teams. Three who don’t have significant populations of military personnel in their state.”

“How would he know that?”

“His girlfriend, Tess, is a reporter for the San Diego Tribune.”

“He’s dating a reporter?”

“Yes, he is.” Should he tell Jackson about Ian and the story he was pursuing in Iraq? No. It would point Jackson toward Brett and open him up to questions he wouldn’t want to answer.

Jackson’s lips compressed. “You could approach her and see what else she’s found out.”

“I can do that.”

“I believe this same entity may be responsible for the investigation into your last mission in Iraq, as well as the Iraqi boy’s disappearance. And I’m certain they’re putting pressure on the Justice Department to bring charges against you and the other men for subduing Ensign Armstrong.”