Ignited (Titanium Security Series) (12 page)

“There’re only eight of us, so we’ll cover the most at risk areas and adapt on the fly if necessary. Which brings me to contingency plans.”

It took another two hours to go over everything that needed to be covered. Overnight he and Gage had tried to plan for every conceivable threat or problem, but the reality was they couldn’t predict exactly what, if anything, would happen out there tomorrow. Could be anything from nothing to a suicide bombing. If they were lucky, all their preparations would go unneeded. If not, then they’d already prepared for the worst. One benefit was that since most of them were ex-Spec Ops members, they were well versed in adapting during the chaos of battle.

After a few rounds of discussion for clarification and handing out assignments, the coffee had long since run out and he could tell the guys were anxious to secure their gear and get going. Hunter shook hands with everyone. The other team left, but Dunphy and Ellis hung back, clearly wanting to talk. “What’s up?” he asked them.

“We’re driving her in with Gage but we haven’t formally met her yet,” Ellis began. “You want us to introduce ourselves, go over the emergency contingencies and exit strategy with her?”

Hunter hid his instinctive reaction to outright reject anyone else going to her right now. Keeping his distance from her was probably in everyone’s best interest, but she trusted him and Hunter would be lying if he didn’t admit that he liked how it felt. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now and I don’t want to make it worse by giving her anything else to worry about. I’ll tell her what she needs to know tonight before I head out.” After he did what he could to ensure she had as many stress free hours as possible to unwind. Yesterday had left more marks on her than just cuts and scrapes. The bombings had been a brutal reality check for her, let alone that late night news from the State Department.

“Roger that.” Ellis and Dunphy filed out of the room to go over their gear.

Hunter began tidying up while Gage checked on the radios and batteries. Briefing Khalia was necessary so she knew what to do in case of emergency, and it couldn’t be avoided. When he finally told her, it would probably scare her shitless no matter how he worded it. He wished there was something else he could do to shield her from all this. He hated her being in harm’s way over here.

She was kind and gentle and only trying to make a difference. Not many people would go to these lengths to step up and do something to better the lives of complete strangers halfway across the world, let alone someone who’d just lost her father in such a horrific way and now facing a lethal threat of her own. Knowing those militant fuckers wanted to kill her filled him with a deep, protective rage he had to keep locked down if he wanted to be sharp out there.

“Sure you want to be the one to give her the heads up tonight?” Gage asked as he packed equipment into his ruck.

“I’m sure.” She was already scared, even if she tried to hide it. No, this had to come from him. He was head of her detail. And dammit, he wanted to put her mind at ease before he left. Tomorrow was going to be hard enough on her as it was without her losing even more sleep over things she couldn’t control. He’d make it short and sweet, to the point, then get out.

Glancing over, he caught the flash of Gage’s knowing grin before he masked it. “That’s one hell of a bedtime story for her, Hunt. Think you’d better stay with her awhile afterward, just to make sure you don’t give her nightmares. Maybe tuck her in. I promise not to wait up for you.”

He shot Gage a narrow-eyed look that warned him to mind his own fucking business. “Hey. Long walk. Short pier.”

Gage only chuckled and went back to packing his gear. Hunter scowled to himself and stalked across the room to check his weapons. He already cared about her on a personal level, and if Gage could see it too, he was in serious fucking trouble here. His reputation was on the line with this job, as was his chance of winning a partnership with Tom. With a sigh he pulled out his cleaning kit and SIG.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. At least then he’d be away from her, and able to do his job with a clear head.

Chapter Seven

The four men with her in the vehicle seemed relaxed enough once they passed through the final military checkpoint in their journey, but Khalia’s stomach was in knots as they drove deeper into the northern part of the infamous Swat Valley. Hunter had come to her room late last night to give her a brief rundown of emergency and safety procedures for the school. He’d listed them quickly and calmly, stressed he was only reviewing them all with her as standard procedure, and when she didn’t have any questions for him, he’d left. Surprisingly, knowing the procedures ahead of time actually made her feel more secure and she’d managed to sleep until her alarm woke her well before dawn.

Once known as the Switzerland of the region, it was easy to see why. If she hadn’t known it was Pakistan, she’d half expect to see Julie Andrews come running over the hill at any moment, dressed in a nun’s habit and singing her heart out. The high mountain peaks soared skyward, yet untouched by the coming snows, and lush, deep valleys nestled amongst the foothills. Tribal villages lay scattered here over the valley, yet less than an hour ago they’d passed the largest ski resort in all of Pakistan.

She shifted in her seat and gazed out at the scenery. Aside from the deceptive beauty she was all too aware that these were
not
the Swiss Alps. The Pakistani military had a strong presence in the valley but it was the Taliban who truly reigned here, forcing the vulnerable civilians to conform to their strict interpretation of Islamic Sharia law at the point of a gun or knife. It seemed surreal but here in these bucolic hamlets women were subjugated by men, forced into a state of near slavery and some sequestered in their homes without being able to set foot outside without permission from their husband or village elder. It was so hard to reconcile that reality with the breathtaking view outside her window.

“Another ten minutes or so,” Gage announced from behind the wheel. She was in the back sandwiched between Ellis and Dunphy—or Blake and Sean, as they’d told her to call them. She’d met them for the first time that morning when Gage had come to get her just before three. On the way here they’d stopped outside of Saidu Sharif to pick up the interpreter, Zaid. The late twenty-something Pakistani sat in the front passenger seat beside Gage, speaking only when spoken to and with the trace of a British accent. All the men were dressed in camouflage gear and ready for business. The silence inside the vehicle didn’t seem to be bothering anyone but her. Tension continued to build inside her, already bad enough that her stomach ached.

“There it is.”

At Gage’s words she leaned forward to peer through the windshield, heart beating fast and a nervous flutter in her belly. Seconds later her father’s legacy came into view. She’d only seen pictures of it until now. Seeing it in person put a lump in her throat.

By western standards the school wasn’t much. Positioned in a clearing between two small villages, the one story white cinderblock building sat in the midst of lush grazing land and held only three classrooms. It was still better than anything this area had seen for years, since the Taliban’s initial campaign against girls’ education.

Her father had chosen this location with care, making sure the playground was built at the rear of the building for added protection against snipers or other threats. Khalia squeezed her hands together in her lap and bit the inside of her cheek against the sudden rise of tears. This was the dream her father had died for. She wished he’d been here to see it made a reality.

You mean you wish he was here instead of you,
her conscience chided.

Yeah, a little, but Hunter’s final instructions to her last night were hard to forget. Even though he’d made it clear the contingency plan was only in place for an emergency, the need for its existence still weighed heavily on her mind.

“Here we go.” Gage’s voice and demeanor were perfectly calm. She wished she had half his confidence about being here. The vehicle rocked and jostled on the rough road leading toward the school. “Looks like Ray’s already waiting for you.”

She peered out the right rear window past Blake’s shoulder to see Ray standing out front of the school with a group of who she assumed were the staff members. He was smiling as he spoke to the middle aged woman beside him. Khalia expelled a slow breath, hoping none of the others noticed her anxiety. They were all experienced soldiers and probably already thought she was weak and helpless after her reaction to the bombings yesterday, so she didn’t want to prove them right.

Gage stopped a good distance from the school and pulled out his hand held radio that matched the one Hunter had given her earlier, stashed in her pants pocket beneath the robe. She had her own channel he would contact her on if necessary. “Hunt, we’re in position.”

“Roger that,” his familiar voice came back, creating a pang of yearning inside her. It bolstered her courage to know that he was out there in the cold somewhere, watching over her to make sure she was okay. “All clear.”

Setting his radio in his lap, Gage partially turned in his seat and offered her an encouraging smile. “Go ahead, hon. I’ll see you later.”

“Show time,” Blake announced beside her. He and Sean jumped out first, followed by Zaid. She gathered the unfamiliar long robe she’d changed into back in Islamabad—to avoid inadvertently offending anyone with her western style clothing and blend in more—and slid out of the vehicle, then followed the others toward the school. Again, the warm temperature was a shock after leaving the air conditioned interior of the SUV. Her battered feet were still sore, but not so painful that she couldn’t walk.

Ray met her part way to the building with the woman he’d been talking to. “Well, fancy meeting you here,” he teased and introduced her to the woman, who turned out to be the headmistress of the school and spoke a tiny bit of English.

“Salam alekum,” Khalia murmured, bowing her head slightly, extremely conscious of the scabbing sore on her cheek and temple. The woman replied the same in turn. Her face was weathered and worn, making her look much older than she probably was, but her deep brown eyes were clear and kind.

“Come,” the lady murmured once the pleasantries were over, gesturing for her and Ray to follow. When Khalia glanced back, Blake and Sean were nowhere to be seen and Gage was driving away to some undisclosed location. An awful sinking feeling took hold, like she had a bright red bull’s eye on her back. Though Ray was right beside her, she’d never felt so alone.

Pushing aside her worry, she entered the school with Ray and the headmistress. As she’d expected the interior was cold and sparsely furnished, with only a single bare bulb lighting each room. Still, it was clean and appeared to be well supplied. Each little classroom boasted a chalkboard along one wall and neatly arranged rows of desks for the students. The air inside was much cooler than out in the warm September sunshine. Khalia wrapped the shawl covering her hair and shoulders more tightly around herself as she walked through to the far side where the courtyard lay.

Outside, the sun chased away the worst of the lingering chill inside her. At the sound of hushed voices, she turned to find a group of girls assembled around the periphery of the playground. Twenty two of them in total, the oldest not more than twelve or thirteen. They wore very conservative and modest tribal clothing and they all stared openly at her. Seeing them, knowing they were risking punishment from the Taliban for being here—maybe even risking their lives—made goose bumps break out across her skin. Their bravery humbled her.

Raising a hand in greeting, she smiled and repeated the only phrase she knew in their language. “Salam alekum.” The words were hoarse but they did the job. Most of the girls broke into grins, no doubt because of her terrible accent. However, their smiles faltered when Ray and Zaid walked up to join her. Khalia wondered if they were worried the men would report them to the Taliban.

“The students are very excited to be here today,” Zaid translated to Khalia and Ray for the headmistress. “She says many of the girls walked for hours this morning to reach the school on time. Some came with their parents, but others left before dawn for fear of reprisal from local religious leaders.”

Khalia smiled at them again, outraged that they should have to worry about repercussions for pursuing an education. How could girls so young possess that level of courage? It amazed her.

Zaid gestured toward the group. “They have prepared a special song for you both today, to thank you for building this school and giving them the opportunity to learn.”