Final Vow (8 page)

He shook his head and let his hand drop. Sergei was aft
er her, and if he lost his focus, he knew what would happen to her. He had to keep his distance. Whenever he touched her, he forgot about Sergei and the danger they were in. The darkness faded and emotions he’d buried long ago tried to make their way out.

Instead of going to her
, he turned his back on the door and walked to the bed. He lay down with his hands behind his head and stared at the door. With the deal between Saudi Arabia and Sarif dead in the water, Sergei would get busy with a new cause. Fortunately, Ahmed was pretty sure that new cause would be him. Ahmed had left enough evidence of his visit to the embassy that it would be easy for Sergei to find out it was Ahmed who had killed Sarif’s chance for the throne. He’d done it on purpose, hoping it would cause Sergei to turn his full attention to him. It was time the two of them ended this. He wasn’t sure why Sergei had decided to come after him eighteen years ago, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was time for it to end, and the only way that was going to happen was for one of them to die.

* * *

Sergei swept the table with his arm, sending the phone, papers, and a laptop flying. That bastard had done it again. He’d somehow turned the Saudis against them. Sarif had just come into the room in the embassy Sergei was using to plan the takeover of Rahmi and told him that it was Ahmed who was spotted at the Saudi embassy meeting with the sheik’s personal representative this morning. Minutes after the meeting, Sarif had received the phone call that the sheik had decided to support Rahmi. In fact, the sheik was going to be visiting Rahmi to meet with his friend, King Ali Rahman, next month.

To make matters worse
, one of Sergei’s men had been abducted last night and then tossed on the street in front of a group of Secret Service agents. There was no telling what the man told the Americans. It really was hard finding reliable men.

“Come.
Pack everything up. It’s time to leave this place. It’s too dangerous to stay. There are too many questions about why I cancelled my speech this afternoon. We’ll leave for home in the morning,” Sarif ordered.

“Are you
wishing to terminate my contract?” Sergei asked. With a flick of a wrist, some men started packing up the room.

“No. I think I need you more than ever now,” Sarif said crypticall
y as he walked out of the room.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Bridget worked for the government
, she reverted back to military time. She was awake by zero five-hundred and dragging Marko out from under the covers to go for a walk. When she stepped outside in the dark of the morning, delivery trucks were roaring past the hotel, taxis were lined up, and people were trudging down the sidewalk with coffee in their hands.

Bridget walk
ed past the embassies near the United Nations as Marko kept his nose to the ground and sniffed every tree they passed, deeming them too inferior to lift his leg on. A cold wind swept down the street and Bridget buried her chin into her scarf and shivered.

“Come on, Marko
, or you’ll have to hold it all day. Our first assignment starts in an hour.” Marko just grunted and walked to the end of his twenty-foot leash to investigate the next tree.

“So, you’re the one he’s chosen.” Bridget shivered at the sound of the
voice that exuded pure hatred.

She turned and s
aw a man standing near her in a black overcoat and hat. A scar ran the length of his cheek and his black eyes reminded her of a rat’s. “And you must be Sergei.”

“And you will be dead soon.”

Bridget smiled to hide the fear that was pummeling her body. “We’ll see about that. Personally, I’m putting twenty on it being you. What can I do for you this morning?” Sergei studied her, clearly trying to intimidate her with his silence. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, maybe you can pick up that poop. It’s always hard to do with a leash in your hand.” She saw Marko kicking at the small patch of grass out of the corner of her eye. But the reaction she got from Sergei was worth it. He looked pissed.

“American women,” he spat. “You think you’re our equals. You think we’re here to serve you. I don’t know how he can even tolerate you after he had a real woman.
It’ll be such a pleasure when I finally come for you. I will enjoy it greatly. Too bad today is not that day. But soon.”

Sergei turned and started walking down the sidewalk when Bridget called out to him. “You’re wrong
, you know. I don’t think I’m your equal. I think I’m better than you. Marko,
stellen
!” Bridget dropped the long training leash and Marko took off as soon as she gave the attack command. She smiled at Sergei’s shocked face as he took off running.

Bridget ran after them, but Sergei
slammed a gate to an embassy and disappeared on the grounds before they could get to him. “Good boy,” Bridget said as she scratched behind his ears and looked up at the embassy. It was for a small Middle Eastern country near the Persian Gulf called Surman. Interesting. Very interesting, indeed.

* * *

The last day at the UN was exhausting. Half of the people had left early and the remaining were annoyed that the others didn’t think they needed to stay. It turned into one big political whine-fest.

Bridget had
kept her eyes open all day but hadn't heard a thing about Sergei or his men. She also noticed that King Sarif was nowhere to be found. Finally she saw Agent Woodberry and flagged him down. “Woodberry,” Bridget called as she headed toward him. She cringed when she saw Sweeney standing with him, but it was a small price to pay for the intel she wanted.

“Springer. You’ve done a great job this week. Thank you. I’m glad you joined us. Anytime you want to again, we’d be happy to have you.”

Sweeney grinned as if he had just learned a great big secret and leaned over to the agent next to him. “I think we just found out how she got assigned here,” he whispered.

Woodberry ground his teet
h and Bridget just glared at Sweeney before turning back to Woodberry. “Thank you, sir. I was just wondering if you had learned anything about Sergei from the man you captured.”

“Unfortunately not.
The CIA learned he left the country this morning. Unfortunately they didn’t find that out until an undercover operative saw him this evening in Rome.”

“What’s in Rome?”

“My guess? A meeting between the king of Rahmi and the Italians. They’re meeting to discuss oil exports. The joke is a trade between oil and wine—you know the king loves nothing more than a good red wine,” Woodberry said.

“That he does. Lu
cky for him his son married his favorite winemaker’s daughter. I think it’s made him partial to Italy.” Bridget smiled as she remembered the king with Dani’s father.

Sweeney nudged the agent next to him again and looked behind Bridget. Woodberry
straightened up and Bridget just prayed it wasn’t another sniveling diplomat. She didn’t think she could take any more of them.

“Hey
, Springer, here’s your chance to sleep your way up another level,” Sweeney laughed before straightening up and assuming the cocky-gent appearance.

“
Go fu . . .”

“Miss Springer,” the deep voice
interrupted from behind. Bridget stiffened.

Sweeney’s eyes widened and his face turned red with a
nger. “I guess you already have,” he hissed and turned toward the newcomer. “Sir, Banks Sweeney. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“
It won’t be when I’m through with you. Woodberry, you’re the head of this unit, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir
.”

“I want a formal investigation o
n this man. From what I just heard, we have a serious problem with professionalism, and I’m willing to bet there are women agents all over with complaints just waiting to be taken. Sweeney, is it? Remember one thing, women are to be respected. If you can’t do that, you have no place representing the United States government. Springer, we need to talk,” he said to the back of her head.

Bridget shrugged at Sweeney’s outraged face
. “What? He has a point.” Sweeney lunged at her, and Bridget lashed out with a right cross that sent him to the ground. “Thank you, I’ve been wanting to do that all week.”

“She hit me
. You all saw that. She can’t get away with that.”

Woodberry grabbed him by the jacket
and hauled him up. “I saw you trip over your own feet and fall flat on your face. What about you men?”

“That’s what we saw
, too, sir, “ the men surrounding Woodberry said with smiles on their faces. Apparently men didn’t like Sweeney either.

Bridget said goodbye to Woodberry and the others before making her way over to the man who had come to see her. He stood in his uniform
beside a black town car. “Hi, Dad.”

Her father smiled and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “It’
s good to see you, pumpkin.”

“It’s good to see you
, too.” She smiled, and Marko leaped up to rest his paws on her dad’s stomach as he rubbed Marko’s head.

“And it’s good to see you
, too, Marko.”

“What are you doing in New York? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I just wanted to see my daughter. Has that Sweeney guy been bothering you? You could report him, you know.”

“Dad, if I reported every guy like Sweeney
, I would never be able to work because I’d be filling out paperwork every day. I can handle them. I’m a big girl,” she said, smiling up to her dad.

“I know. But no matter how big you get
, you’re still my little pumpkin. And, I have news for you that your mother insisted I give you.”

“Mom did?”

Her father let out a tortured sigh. “Your mother can ferret out information better than most of my men. Anyway, she discovered I knew Ahmed left for Rome this morning and told me I had to tell you.”

“Rome. He followed Sergei.”

“I made the mistake of telling your mother you stood up to me about Ahmed, and she said for me to make arrangements for you to fly to Rome. If I don’t, then I’m on the couch with no dinner or dessert. She threatened me as she made her homemade apple cobbler.”

“What could a man do?” Bridget grinned.

“Exactly. There’s a New York Air National Guard plane waiting for you at Stewart Air Force base. They have a pit stop for refueling in Rome and can take you when they leave in the morning.”

“What about Marko?”

“Your mother wants to see her granddog and I want regular updates. If I don’t get them, then I’m sending in the Marines . . . literally.”

Bridget flung her arms around her dad and hugged him
tight. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Her father grunted as he hugged her back. “He better
treat you right. I’ll kill him if he hurts you.”

“
I know and I appreciate it. You’re the best.” She kissed his cheek and hugged Marko before preparing for her trip to Rome.

* * *

Ahmed kicked the stand to his Ducati and slid off his helmet. He looked down the packed narrow street as he walked down the gray cobblestone sidewalk toward a small café. He took a seat and brought out his phone to call his brother as the waitress poured a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Ahmed. Thank you for taking care of Sarif for us. His Royal Highness is very relieved since we’re leaving tomorrow for a meeting.”

“Of course. But I fear it’s not over. Sarif flew out with Sergei and his men. They made a stop in Rome on their way home. Interestingly, Sergei and his men stayed in Rome.”

“Sarif took Sergei to Rome?”

“Yes. What is it?” Ahmed asked as he sat forward in his chair at the worried tone in his brother’s voice.

“The
king and I are to arrive in Rome tomorrow morning for a meeting. I do not think this is a coincidence.”

“So that is
why he is here. You need to cancel the trip. I think Sergei is here to assassinate the king.” Ahmed tossed down a couple of euros and headed for his bike. “Where is the meeting?”

“At the Quirinal Palace. But, Ahmed, His Royal Highness will not cancel this trip.”

“At least try. If all else fails, then I will see you here tomorrow and help you protect him.”

Ahmed revved the engine of his Ducati and tore off down the street toward the
palace. He had a lot of surveillance to do and would, he hoped, be able to figure out how to prevent Sergei from putting his plan into action.

* * *

Bridget smiled at the waitress as she set the cappuccino on the small bistro table. “
Grazie
.” Bridget breathed in the aroma of the little coffee shop and took a sip of her drink before closing her eyes in satisfaction.

The sound of
a metal chair scraping the cobblestones interrupted her brief moment of bliss. “You’re late,” Bridget said smugly as she took another delicious sip of her drink.

“
You’re following me,” Ahmed said grimly. “I told you to stay away from me. How did you find me this time?”

Bridget smiled sweetly. “And if you remember
, I told you I don’t care what you say. This involves me and I’m going to help. I also think I already told you I have my own sources. Those sources not only told me you were in Rome but that Sergei is also here, most likely to assassinate King Ali Rahman.” She didn’t even blink as she saw his hands tighten around the armrests of his chair. Instead, she took a sip of her cappuccino and smiled serenely at him.

It had hit her while she was sitting in the back of a National Guard cargo plane that Ahmed was so used to using his reputation to scare people away from getting close to him that only Mo had been truly allowed in. Bridget knew she wasn’t the
smoothest with men. She tended to speak her mind and had discovered some guys didn’t appreciate that. Additionally, she didn’t have much experience with men in a romantic way, but was going to fight for the love she felt for Ahmed the only way that made sense—by being herself. She would love Ahmed no matter what. She just wished he could return her feelings.

She had a feeling there was so much more to Ahmed and
if anyone could understand his dark side, it was she. He just had to trust her enough to tell her. He wasn’t the only person to see or do horrible things. When Bridget had been hired as personal security during the war, she’d fought right alongside the men on the front lines. In fact, her convoy had been ambushed and she had spent three hours fighting off insurgents. She understood what it meant to fight for her life.

“So you picked this café, why?” Ahmed asked as he
relaxed his hands and shooed away the waitress who was approaching them.

“I’m scopi
ng a spot for an attack on the king. I think I found it, too.”

“The top of the café,” they both said at the same time, never taking
their eyes off of each other.

Bridget’s lips
twisted as she tried not to laugh at Ahmed’s frustration with her. In a quick, unguarded moment, he looked both ticked off and impressed. She lifted her little white china cup and took another sip of her drink. A gentle breeze rippled through the air and her napkin floated to the ground. Bridget leaned forward to reach for it as something pinged off the table, shattering one of the beautiful tiles and sending a shard into her bicep.

“Get down!” In one fluid movement
, Ahmed was out of his chair and had pushed Bridget under the heavy metal table as little pings bounced off the top. “You’re hit.” Ahmed grabbed at the blood on her arm and Bridget realized he had gone white.