Firethorn (Discarded Heroes) (14 page)

“Did they put you in that vent?”

Aladdin shook his head.

“What were you doing in there then?”

Another small smile. “A lot of people want me dead. When I heard the commotion and flash-bang, I didn’t know who was coming. A nurse who was soft on me helped me in there, then she escaped.” His gaze drifted to Kacie, and he studied her for a long while. Something shifted in his expression.

Noises drew them out of the reprieve. “We’d better move,” Griffin said.

“That way.” Aladdin drew himself straight.

“He’s right,” Kacie said. “It’s a back route that should be less populated.” She looked at Griffin as she nodded at Aladdin. “Help him. He’s emaciated and dehydrated.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I’m fine.” Aladdin stiffened. He took a step, and his leg gave out.

Hooking an arm around him, Griffin’s awareness of how bad Aladdin’s situation was hit him full force. “You know—“

“This changes nothing.” Aladdin swallowed, sweat dotting his upper lip and brow.

“You’re learning, assassin.” Griffin took a few steps, heading toward the exit. Ahead, Kacie opened the door. She checked the passage, then gave them the all-clear. He aided Aladdin into the tight corridor. Two-deep, their shoulders nearly scraped the cement walls as they shuffled on. Aladdin’s right side dipped and his foot dragged.

He jerked himself upward and shook his head. Coughed.

Though Griffin wanted to ask how he was doing, he wouldn’t put him on the spot. Wouldn’t embarrass him in front of the girl. Heck, even he was embarrassed at the way she moved through the tunnels while they both labored to keep going.

“Where is everyone?”
Scritch. Scritch. Scrrrritch.
Aladdin stumbled. Caught himself. Straightened and continued.

“Same mess like you.” Griffin frowned at the sloppy gait—the man had been the epitome of stealth in their earlier days, so whatever was wrong, whatever happened to him here, he would need some serious medical treatment. Griffin trained his gaze and attention on the door at the end of the hall. Though roughly twenty feet, it felt like half a mile.

Aladdin grunted. “I’m sor—“

“Quiet.” The guy didn’t need to expend energy talking when walking seemed to take every ounce of effort. He’d offer to do a fireman carry and get them out in double-time, but the humiliation would do the guy in. Still—it was humiliation or dead.

Kacie stood at the end, watching. She looked at the door, then back to them, clearly torn.

“Find a vehicle,” Griffin hissed as they made the halfway point.

Eyes wide, she nodded. Then disappeared out the door.

Shouts spiraled from their six.

Aladdin’s grip tensed.

“Just keep moving,” Griffin mumbled, his focused trained solely on making it to the door.

“Stop.”

“No time.”

“Stop,” Aladdin growled. When Griffin hesitated, Aladdin shifted around behind him, used a strap to tie his hand into Griffin’s vest, then hooked an arm around his chest. “Go.”

Surprised at the man’s quick thinking, Griffin shifted his M4 into both hands. He pivoted with the assassin strapped to his back and trained his weapon on the opening they’d just come through. A few feet farther and two men manifested in the hole.

Griffin eased back on the trigger. Once. Twice.

One guard dropped. The other jerked out of sight.

Griffin bent forward, arching his spine and lifting the assassin off his feet. Hurriedly, he back-stepped toward the exit, toward the route Kacie had disappeared through. His heart hiccupped at the thought of sending her off to find a vehicle. What would keep her from running and saving her own hide, leaving them to get killed?

Why’d he trust a spy? She clearly had no compunction against breaking someone out of a maximum security prison. She didn’t even know—or care!—whether he was guilty. What kind of person doesn’t care?

Aladdin drew in a sharp breath. Slapped a hand on Griffin’s vest and yanked hard. The move spun him around. As his body pivoted, Griffin saw the muzzle of a weapon poke toward him.

It was too late. He knew as soon as he lifted the weapon that he’d never get a round off before the gunman.

Crack!

The man stumbled forward.

Griffin stilled, his mind ablaze. Then he saw the red splotch spreading over the uniform as the guard slumped to the floor at his feet.

Blond hair flashed into view. “Move. Now. We have a truckload of trouble coming our way.”

Half dragging Aladdin to safety was slowing them down to the point of detriment. With a roll of his shoulder, Griffin reached back and hooked a hand under Aladdin’s thigh. He hoisted him onto his shoulders. Let the guy hate him for embarrassing him.

Hustling sideways was the only way to avoid banging Aladdin’s skull against the walls, but they made quicker time. When they broke out into an alley, he stopped short. Darkness enveloped them. Where was the car? He looked around, his vision adjusting to the lack of light.

Kacie stood to the side, holding something.

No. Not something. A piece of junk motorbike.

“Are you crazy? Three people won’t fit on that.”

“I know.”

Griffin scowled. So, she was going to abandon them?

“Take the road out of town. Two klicks east there’s a house, half blown. Meet there.”

“Where are you going?”

She flashed her eyes at him, the light from the side of the building catching the whites. “Get him on there and move!”

Griffin clamped his jaw tight as he shuffled to the bike, then eased Aladdin to the ground.

“I’ll kill you for that,” the assassin hissed.

“It was my pleasure.” Griffin bobbed his head. “Get on.” He held the bars as Aladdin drew a leg up over the back. Then Griffin straddled it. He glanced around.

A Muslim woman flitted past them, long fabric billowing like phantoms of the night. Blue material wrapped her head.

Griffin ducked.

“One hour,” said the Muslim—no, it was
Kacie.

How—how had she done that?

“Wait.” Griffin grabbed for her. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

She scurried into the darkness, the shadows eating her form and blending her into its darkness. Everything in him ordered him to stay, protect her, not leave her side till they were all safely out of the city.

“She’ll be okay,” Aladdin said. “She’s made for this stuff.”

Surprised at the man’s words, Griffin probed the shadows, the alleys, the buildings for a sign of her. But she was gone. He cranked the engine on the bike, skimmed the shadows once more, then raced into the night.

“I’m not leaving you.”
Sweet sentiment.

A lie told by every man she’d met.

Yeah, should’ve known this guy wouldn’t be any different. Regardless, it was the best choice they had. She couldn’t find anything but the bike for transportation, and Aladdin had to be transported to safety.

Phase one—complete. Now to give Lambert an update.

Kazi slunk through the dark alleys. As she hustled, she kept her head down but her gaze out. A woman out after curfew meant death, no matter who she was or why she was out. Which was why Kazi had to hurry, get to Tariq’s before being spotted or before the swarm of police descended on the facility where she’d just freed a man wanted in a dozen countries.

Lights, people, and cars grew in number as she neared the hub of the city. That was good. She could hide better. Yasir had the great fortune of being held captive in a city familiar to her. She’d been able to work her channels and dig him out of the muck.

But that was also part of the problem—here people knew her. Knew her face. Could recognize her and remember her comings and goings. So, getting back to her objectives could put those very same people in grave danger.

She crossed the street and entered the hotel.

Tariq looked up from behind the counter, and his eyes widened. “Noor!”

“Salam,
Tariq.” She inclined her head in respect.

“It’s been awhile.” He reached under the counter and retrieved a key.
“Eshtaqto elaiki.”

“And I have missed being missed.” She clutched the key, thanked him, and hurried for the stairs.

“We are having falafel in the morning. Don’t be late for breakfast.” He winked and went back to his computer.

Kazi took the steps two at a time, her heart racing. Tariq’s reference to the falafel warned her that someone was looking for her.
Already?
How did they know? There was no way…. In the room, she locked the door and bolted it. Then she hurried to the far corner where a desk hugged the wall. With great care and quiet, she moved it aside. On her knees, she used her mostly broken fingernails to dig in between the plaster and the molding. She pressed harder and finally—
click!
She pried the wood back. It opened like a stiff drawer. There she retrieved a wad of paper and three passbooks.

Kazi stuffed the panel back, returned the desk to its place, then lifted the chair and carried it to the other side of the corner. On it, she reached up and loosened an air vent. She tiptoed up and stretched, her fingers coiling around nylon straps. With a tug, she freed a bag. It flopped into her arms.

In minutes, Kazi had changed into jeans and a black T-shirt. She strapped the HK USP Compact around her waist, then donned the jacket. She lifted the brick-of-a-phone and dialed.

“Tell me you have good news.”

“I do not.” Kazi ignored the hiss on the other end of the line. “I have Aladdin. He is not good.”

“Just get him back here.”

“That will be impossible. He is more dead than alive.”

“Then I guess you do not want your money.”

She ended the call, a winter storm moving over her heart. She’d been played and manipulated all her life. If men wanted something, they bought it. Roman wanted the farm. He bought it. With her soul.

She swung around and dropped hard on the bed, the springs creaking. How did one get a half-dead assassin, wanted by just about every EU and Middle Eastern country, out of one hostile country into another?

Shouts preceded feet pounding the stairs.

Kazi punched to her feet. Nothing was ever easy, but just once, she’d like a break. And not in her back. Pack slung over her shoulder, she hoisted up the window and climbed out. Clinging to the ledge, she toed the window closed and then inched along the facade and around the corner. To her left, she spied a truck. And grinned. It belonged to the police—but unmarked—and they’d left the door open and the engine running.
It can’t be that easy, can it?

She hurried along, fingers digging into the cement, which tore at her flesh, then eyed the spot and stepped off. As she did, light ripped through the alley. Kazi landed in a crouch. Shoved herself into the shadows.

Three men burst out a side door to Tariq’s.

Gauging whether they spotted her and their distance from her, Kazi knew she had little time. And less luck. Even if she could get into the truck, which she needed to get Legend and Aladdin out of here, she could never escape without being shot at or killed.

But they hadn’t seen her yet. That was her advantage. All she had to do was sneak into the truck and voilà!

Of course, she knew better than to believe it’d be that easy. She’d lived too long and seen too much. Nothing ever went as planned. Which is why she had to be quick on her feet in more ways than one.

Nimble and low, she scuttled around the vehicle.

Crunch. Crunch.

Kacie dropped and rolled under the vehicle. With the engine running, the heat radiating from it felt like a warm sauna. As she waited, the darkness from the hotel vanished.

Feet crunched. The two men conversed.

Oh no.

They’d given up. Decided she wasn’t there.

She watched, her stomach in her throat, as both men came to the vehicle and climbed in.
Thunk. Thunk.
The underbelly of the SUV dropped closer. The engine revved.

CHAPTER 10

Abandoned House, Outskirts of West Bank

U
nnerved didn’t come close to what churned through Griffin’s chest. Alone with a former assassin who looked to be Death’s best friend right now and dependent on a covert operative with serious issues—
what
was he thinking?