Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8) (5 page)

Victoria swallowed and nodded, and Mendez let his gaze slide across everyone there.

Ryan’s pulse thumped as he waited for the colonel to single him out next. But that would mean Mendez somehow knew about Ryan’s relationship with Emily—and he was pretty certain no one knew. He’d been careful. She’d been careful.
 

Or so he’d always thought.

Mendez turned back to the screen and called up another slide. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the colonel moved on with the planning. He informed them they’d be on a plane tonight and on their way to the zone. They would arrive in the city of Al-Izir and make contact with Ian Black and his mercenaries. Hopefully by then Black would have information about the hostages’ location. If not, HOT was going to bunk in the compound with Black’s mercenaries and wait for the coordinates.

Ryan didn’t like that option. A quick glance around the room told him that no one else did either. Especially Iceman, who’d fought with Black when it appeared the man was responsible for trying to kidnap Grace Campbell.

After an evening involving a dunk in the Tidal Basin and a jail stay for both Ice and Black, they’d learned the mercenary was actually on their side. He’d been embedded with the group seeking to kidnap Grace Campbell, but he’d been working with Mendez when it came time to rescue Grace.

That didn’t mean a damn thing to Ryan. So Black had been on their side
that time
. There was no guarantee he would be this time. His loyalties were unpredictable at best and traitorous at worst. He didn’t care about people. If he did, he never would have recruited Emily.

That’s what killed Ryan every day. Not knowing if she was okay or scared out of her mind. Wondering where she was. Who she was with. Wondering if Black was touching her the way Ryan had touched her.

He dipped his chin to his chest and studied the floor beneath his boots. Anger rushed through him, filled him so full he felt like he would burst at the seams with a single touch to his body. It was too much like when he was a kid and he’d been angry and hurt because his mother had left. He’d been fucking helpless to fix a damn thing, and he’d hated it.
 

He’d given her so many chances, kept expecting her to turn up at his games or for the weekends he was supposed to spend with her, but she didn’t. Or if she did, she was high or drunk or just manic. Self-medicating when she should have taken the meds the doctors gave her instead.
 

He could still see his dad’s sad face. Still hear his dad’s voice. “She’s not coming today, buddy. She’s not feeling too well.”

That had been code for she was too fucked up, but he hadn’t known it at the time. His dad, God bless him, had never said a bad word about his mother. It had taken getting older and losing the rose-colored glasses he’d viewed her with to make him realize the truth.
 

Maybe he’d had rose-colored glasses with Emily too. Maybe her vulnerability and sadness had masked the truth from his eyes.
 

His belly tightened at the thought even as his heart rebelled.

Just like when he’d been a confused kid wanting his mother to care about him.

Not the same thing. Not the same.

But it felt remarkably the same deep inside, goddammit.

“I know you don’t like this,” Mendez said after he’d finished with the logistics. “I know you don’t want to sit in Al-Izir with Ian Black, but time is of the essence with this one. We have to be ready to act the minute we know the location of the hostages.”

The faces around the room were stony, determined. And then they all spoke as one.
 

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Mendez nodded and looked at his watch. “Six hours until go. You know the drill.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE KUMA DESERT WAS A WASTELAND, and Al-Izir was right in the middle of it. The sand stirred up in whirlpools as something too dry and hot to be called a breeze scoured the desert floor.
 

Emily wanted to stop and pull down her abaya so she could take a drink from her waterskin, but she had to keep going. It wasn’t that far to Ian Black’s compound. She just had to tough it out. Lately, no matter how hydrated she was, how rested, the second she got out into the heat, she wilted. The heat of Acamar was taking it out of her, which was surprising considering how long she’d dwelt in Qu’rim’s climate. They were the same, for heaven’s sake.

The scents of burning meat wafted on the air, and her stomach rebelled. She put her hand to her mouth and hurried past the street vendor. When she reached a door on a side street, she took out her key and slipped it into the lock. It looked like a simple key lock, but she knew it was actually wired to a security system. Someone could steal her key, and they could use it to enter, but they wouldn’t get very far with the cameras trained on the entry. She looked up into the camera, making sure it captured her face, before she passed into a shaded inner courtyard and leaned back against the wall. She searched beneath her abaya for the tube of her waterskin, sucking on it gratefully when she located it.

The water was warm, but still welcome.
 

“You okay, Emily?”

She looked up to find Rascal staring down at her. Rascal was a big man, bald, and about as gentle as a kitten. Or at least he was with people he liked. She suspected he was quite scary when he didn’t like someone. He was, like many of the men here, a former soldier of some sort. She just wasn’t sure for whom. Sometimes he had the trace of a foreign accent, but just when she thought she had a handle on it, it disappeared again and she was left wondering if she’d imagined it.

“Yes, fine, thanks.”

He shook his head. “You look green.”

She felt green, but she wasn’t going to say it. “Not used to the heat, I guess.”

He snorted. “You used to live out here.”

“Been away too long.”

He sniffed. “Looks like we’ve got company coming. Boss man says we’re working with someone on this thing with the archaeologists.”

Her stomach twisted. “Did he say who?”

“Nope.” Rascal picked up the case he’d been carrying—guns, most likely—and slung it over his shoulder. “Got to get this stuff sorted. You go on inside and get some cold water, Em. Lie down a while and you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks.”

Rascal tipped his head and kept on going. Emily made her way deeper into the inner courtyard and entered the main dwelling. She’d quickly learned once she got out here that Ian Black had quite the network of spies, soldiers, and equipment. He was set up as well as anything she’d seen when the Hostile Operations Team had rescued her last year. Except his guys were a little on the rawer side. A little less polished and a lot more… mercenary.

Or maybe that was just her imagination. But they weren’t quite like the HOT guys. A picture of Ryan flashed into her head, and she had to bite back a whimper. That last night with him… God, what a beautiful night that had been.

He didn’t know it, but he’d fixed something for her. He’d made her less afraid. She didn’t know why, but since she’d left his side early that morning, she hadn’t been as scared of anything as she had been before. The only thing she’d been afraid of was leaving him. Having him hate her.

Her heart flipped and she swallowed. She’d wondered how he reacted when he got the news. She’d made Ian promise to send a message to Colonel Mendez. She didn’t want Victoria and Ryan wondering if she’d been kidnapped or snatched by a serial killer or something. She needed them to know she was alive and had gone of her own free will.

But how had they reacted? Victoria would have been furious, of course. But what of Ryan? Was he angry, or disgusted?

She hated the idea that he might despise her, but there was no going back now. She only hoped that when this was all over, he might forgive her.

“Emily.”
 

She stopped at the sound of Ian’s voice. He came out of the shadows of his office door, his eyes raking over her. Dark eyes. Eyes filled with things she couldn’t begin to fathom.
 

She liked Ian. She felt like he was a kindred soul somehow.

“Mustafa didn’t show,” she said, getting down to business. “He said the last time he might not be able to get away.”

Ian blew out a breath. “Dammit. We need to figure out where they’re holding those hostages.”

“I know.” She gritted her teeth. “Why haven’t you sent me yet? I should be inside the cell, getting the information for us.”

“You aren’t ready.”

Anger surged inside her. And frustration. “How much more ready can I be? I’ve been here for two months, Ian. I speak the language. I am the Light of Zaran,” she spat, hating the name as much now as she did then. She hadn’t been his light at all. He’d used it to mock her, mock that she’d come to mean nothing to him.

“It’s not as simple as that. There’s groundwork to be done. If you walk in there and they aren’t prepared for it, they’ll kill you. They have to believe that you’ve returned willingly, that you escaped the Americans and want to help their cause.”

She snorted. “I was a part of their cause for three years. I think I can fake it well enough.”

“We don’t know who’s in charge now. Since Al Ahmad was taken, things have changed. Your husband was slaughtered with his own knife, his men were overrun, and you disappeared. How do you think that looks?”

She felt herself pale, but she didn’t shrink from his stare. Ian didn’t know that she’d been the one to shove that knife into Zaran’s gut. Or maybe he did and he just hadn’t told her.
 

“It looks like I was kidnapped when they killed my husband and his men. How else is it supposed to look?”

“Like maybe you betrayed them?”

Her stomach roiled. “How it looks hasn’t changed in the past two months. You knew this from the beginning, but you still brought me here. For what, Ian? To meet with Mustafa and pass on information someone else could have gotten?”

His gaze hardened. “I brought you here to do a job, which is what you’re doing. You know these people. You know what they’re like. Filtering the information from Mustafa—who wasn’t nearly as forthcoming with anyone else as he has been with you, by the way—through the lens of your experience is invaluable to us. When the time is right, I’ll send you in. Not a minute before. Besides, this situation with the hostages changes things a bit, at least for now.”

Emily put her hand over her eyes and pressed against the tears threatening to fall. For heaven’s sake, why was she so emotional? Did she really want to walk into a den of terrorists and pretend to be one of them? What she was doing now was dangerous enough. She met with her contact at a location of his choosing. She went alone. If he decided to grab her or if he fed her wrong information, how would she stop him?

There was always someone from Ian’s group watching, but that didn’t mean they could stop the man if he tried. He wasn’t precisely trustworthy. Hassan Mustafa was a jaded warrior who’d grown tired of the promises and ideals of the group. He hadn’t grown tired of the possibilities of padding his own pockets, however.
 

So he sold information to Ian, and then he went back to the group. How did she or Ian know he was telling them the truth? They didn’t, not really, but it was true that a group of archaeologists had been kidnapped in the Lost City of Maz recently. The Freedom Force hadn’t released any videos yet, but she knew it was coming.

She desperately needed Mustafa to tell her where they were being held so someone could get them out. She’d tried before, but he was reluctant to talk about it. He was afraid. She understood that, but her duty was to get him to talk. Maybe if they offered him more money. Everything was about money to Mustafa.
 

Emily straightened as a wave of weariness washed over her. “Rascal said something about company coming to help us with the archaeologists.”

Ian’s gaze darkened for a moment. “Hostage rescue, yes. The government is sending in a military team. Once we learn where the hostages are, they’ll go in and extract them.”

Her heart thumped.
A military team
… “Why can’t we do that?”

He had enough men here. Enough equipment and expertise. Ian Black pretty much had his own army, so they didn’t really need another one showing up.

“Not our mission. It requires too many resources and shifts focus off what I need to accomplish out here.”

Frustration hammered her. “And just what is it you need to accomplish, Ian? I’ve never been clear on that.”

“But I
am
clear, and that’s all that matters.” He shook his head. “You’re exactly like Victoria in some ways, and nothing like her in others.”

Her skin prickled. She’d spent her life wanting to be as strong and confident as her big sister. She never had been. She’d been the weak one, the one who’d caused more trouble than she was worth. Victoria had always picked up the pieces for her. This time Emily wanted to pick up the pieces. She wanted to prove she was worth all the trouble and make her sister proud for a change.

She also wanted to make Ryan proud, though she knew that was probably a tall order considering how she’d left him.
 

“Victoria is the most amazing woman I know.”