Out of Sight (16 page)

"Why won't you hurry?" she demanded, almost sobbing as she tried to squeeze her hand between their hipbones to get to his fly. Although his body parts and her body parts desperately wanted to party, it wasn't happening.

"Slow down." His hands swept to her behind and he stroked and kneaded her flesh until she whimpered. "Ka-aaane!" She wanted him. Now. This instant. More than she'd ever wanted anything or anyone in her life. They were practically glued together. And she wanted that. Desperately. But first she had to get this man out of his pants, and into her.

"Off. Off. Off!" she muttered thickly, frantically. "That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am."

She laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside her. "Nice salute." Her laughter mixed with the yearning need to have this man inside her. It was different, incredible, this mix ofn joy and red-hot desire. "Let's not waste it."

Her fingers encountered his roller-coaster-shaped zipper. His body immediately reacted to her touch as she sought the zipper tab by touch. "Hells bells, Wright." She tugged, then tugged again. "Is there a padlock on this thing that I don't know about?"

He laughed shortly. "Protecting the family jewels."

"Oh," she said dryly, "you are a funny, funny man." She yanked at the stupid zipper again, with no success. "These pants didn't look this tight when I saw you earlier. What'd you do, shrink-wrap them when I wasn't looking?"

"Think of it as unwrapping a Christmas present."

"Yeah?" she warned, leaning in close to his mouth and taking a little punishing nip from his bottom lip. "Well, when I really want my present, I rip it open. Sometimes small working parts of my toy might get damaged. Sure you want to see that happen here?"

"On second thought," he said with a hoarse laugh, "why don't you let me unwrap it for you." He shifted, and she heard the happy rasp of the zipper teeth opening.

She couldn't get his clothes off fast enough, and trying to finish unzipping his pants while she was lying on top of him, with his erection pushed against the zipper, suddenly seemed farcical and made her laugh. Breathless, and semihysterical, but laughter nevertheless.

"You find this amusing, do you?" Kane asked. Easy for him to say. She was naked, while he was still fully, and annoyingly, clothed.

"Hell, yes," she said, still laughing under her breath. "Not exactly a graceful moment." She fumbled with his damn zipper again, eventually succeeding in getting it tugged all the way down, then slipped her hand inside. Kane groaned as her fingers closed over him. His thick penis, smooth as satin, jerked in the warm glove other fingers. "Gimme."

"Good things come to those who wait, Angelica Japonica." He rolled her over onto her back, his body welcome and heavy against hers. Camera bags and boxes toppled and scraped together as they shifted in the small cargo area. She heard him shove things out of their way. AJ raised her knees to cradle his body, and he rocked against her heat while his mouth devoured hers. She felt fire crackle in her veins, saw fireworks behind her closed eyelids.

She groaned, and arched her back as one large, calloused hand slid up her side and closed over her breast. The sensation was piercingly sweet. "Ahhh…"

His strong, beautiful hands slid up the inside of her arms, sending goose bumps skittering across the surface of her skin. He wound his fingers between hers, pressing her hands up above her head and flat against the carpet.

And he kissed her. Her mouth. Her neck. His lips lingered for several minutes on each breast as he laved her nipples with his hot, wet tongue. His chin brushed her midriff, her belly… and lower.

He spread her knees with his broad shoulders, then buried his face against the damp curls.

AJ tried to free her hands to grab his head. "Kane! Wait—Stop—You can't—"

He could. He did. His avid mouth pressed against her, making her hips rise from the floor as his hot, competent tongue laved her.

He released the shackles of his hands to scoop up her hips and draw her more firmly against his mouth. Holding her against the heat and insanity-causing action of his very clever tongue.

AJ couldn't think, she could only feel. And God, what a feeling. She brought her hands down and grabbed hold of Kane's hair, helpless to stop herself from arching her back and making little whimpering sounds from deep in her throat.

The corded muscles in his arms bunched under her thighs as they flexed and shifted, moving her hips, holding her as her body bucked and rolled through the tempest of sensations.

This was more than sex, AJ realized as her body shuddered and shook with the onslaught. Oh, God. This was
way
more than uncomplicated sex. She tried to shift her hips away from his mouth. Too much. More than too much. "Kane. I—I—"

She came in a tidal wave of sensation, her body shuddering and quaking. Her mind completely, utterly blank.

She came back to earth as lightly as a feather. Limp as a piece of overcooked spaghetti. Kane still between her legs.

"Ah…"

He raised his head, then trailed a burning, damp path up her stomach, up her rib cage. With strategic stops at her breasts and nipples along the way.

Then he took her mouth, and as he did, his body slid into hers so swiftly, so completely, she gasped with the overwhelming sensation of fullness. Before AJ could catch her breath, he moved inside her, pushing her, stretching her body wide to accommodate him. Her nails dug into his back as she shuddered at the intoxicating sensation of him filling her.

Pleasure drenched her as she rocked against him, until he drew in a ragged breath.

Her climax came hard and fast. Her body clenched around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders and clung to him with a vicious grip as she sobbed with the sheer perfection of it.

"Sometimes hard and fast is good," he said softly against her ear. "And sometimes—Are you asleep?"

Her head was heavy on his shoulder, her long hair clinging like hot silk filaments to his damp skin. Her leg thrown across his body. Kane ran his hand lightly down her arm and slid his fingers to the curve of her hip. Her skin was unbelievably smooth and soft, damp with their exertions.

The next time they made love, he wanted to see her. Wanted to look into her face and watch her eyes darken and go hazy with desire. He wanted to feel her nipples peak as he sucked on them. He wanted to see her blush when he buried his head between her legs.

Her reactions to his lovemaking made Kane suspect her past lovers had been a selfish lot of asses. There was a lot to be said, he thought smugly, feeling the weight of her head on his chest, for savoring the moment.

The ringing of the Sat Comm link woke them. They'd managed to grab four hours of sleep. Better than nothing. Naked, Kane climbed over the seats to grab the link.

AJ searched around in the thick darkness for her clothes, pulling them on as she listened to his terse questions, and surmised the answers. Jesus God. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Things moved in slow-mo while she raced to dress.

She listened intently to Kane's tone as she grabbed a handful of his clothing, and slipped between the seats and into the passenger seat of the cockpit, then turned on the overhead light.

Kane's face was frighteningly grim as he disconnected from the call. "It's a viral agent," he said flatly, taking his clothes from her and starting to dress. "Raazaq's got enough to annihilate a small town and infect countless others. Apparently it kills as many as it infects. Some die within days, others are fine, except they're carriers. It's highly contagious."

"Holy shit."

Kane finished dressing and cranked the engine. It was still dangerous to drive. Sand replaced air, and visibility was zero. It was pitch-dark, and winds whipped past them at upwards of eighty miles per hour. But they had no choice.

She buckled her seat belt, then reached across Kane as he drove, grabbed his belt, and clicked it into place.

The sharp, metallic tang of fear filled her mouth, and her heart beat irregularly. Something this toxic in the hands of a sociopath terrorist like Raazaq was enough to give Mother Teresa, as dead as she was already, a heart attack.

AJ squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She wanted backup, goddamn it, and she wanted it now. But they'd just have to do what they could.

"Two degrees south." AJ checked the GPS on the dash, absently correcting Kane's heading. "There's not a damn thing this far south," she mused, gripping the dash in both hands as the wind threatened to turn the vehicle over like a turtle.

Mentally, she nipped through maps of the area, trying to figure out where Raazaq could possibly be headed. "He could be going to Bawiti," she mused, thinking out loud. "But I doubt it. Not populated enough. Why waste something that could kill thousands on a few hundred 'peasants,' as he calls them? Maybe farther south? The Sudan?" She shook her head, discounting that notion. "Then why not fly? Hell, why not take the river?"

They skidded and skated down the incline as the heavy winds tried to force them back. Even nature was working against them. Kane's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. In the dim dash light, AJ studied his expression and gave thanks that she wasn't the focus of his anger.

It was going to be slow, agonizingly slow, progress, made worse by the sense of urgency nipping at their heels. It was like being in a dream and trying to run while your legs wouldn't move.
Keep busy,
she told herself.
Keep talking. Stop thinking so damn much.
"There are a few settlements. A couple of decent-size oases out here. Not much more." She braced herself as the Humvee bounced convulsively, broadsided by the gale. Her gaze shifted from the wash of sand beyond the windshield to the man behind the wheel. "We need that team. Here. With us, to contain this when we catch up to the bastard."

"Don't panic yet. Believe me, I'll let you know when it's time to panic." Kane spared her a quick glance, then looked back at the outside world as it tried to claw its way in. "The team'll be there when we need them. There's only so much anyone can do in this weather. Even Raazaq can't beat the storms. Right now we're the closest to him.

"The second this storm backs off," he said, each word bitten off, "the skies will be filled with aircraft and more backup than anyone will know what to do with. In the meantime, we go as fast and as far as we can and ride his ass."

"I'll alert the others." She grabbed the comm link and connected with Hawk, instructing the men to catch up and stay close if they could. AJ used a simple series of T-FLAC code words to briefly fill in the others about the danger and the ramifications of Raazaq, and within seconds the convoy was once again in motion. She couldn't see them, but she knew the team was back there, covering their ass, moving up to join them in T-FLAC solidarity. She and Kane weren't alone, despite the isolation of driving in this storm.

Hell, just driving was a potentially lethal business as the winds gusted and the sand whirled in a blinding, beige wall. The road, not that great to begin with, was obscured by moving sand. They could have been about to drive over an oasis full of happy villagers and they wouldn't know it until the wheels made a thumping sound over their bodies. Jesus.

AJ glanced at Kane in the lights from the dash. The muscles in his arms bulged as he fought for control of the wheel, and strain bracketed his mouth as he took the Humvee to dangerous speeds. They didn't speak as he concentrated on keeping the heavy vehicle on the road.

At times they almost seemed to levitate in the raging wind. AJ bit her tongue, swore, and pressed a hand to her somersaulting stomach. The wind was actually trying to push them backwards. Was Fate trying to tell them something?

No.

The only fate was the one you made, AJ thought. And she'd be damned if she'd let that madman Raazaq continue holding the world hostage.

She grabbed the Sat Comm when it rang—grateful for the interruption. "It's Hawk," she shouted over the raging storm. "He wants to talk to you."

"Put him on speaker."

AJ flicked the switch and adjusted the buttons to bring in the other operative more clearly. She turned up the volume as high as it would go so Hawk's voice would carry over the thundering roar surrounding them. The satellite communicator crackled like an old-fashioned radio. "Shit!" she shouted as some sort of flying vegetation—Was that a palm tree?—came right for the car. "Watch out!"

The vehicle slewed across the nonexistent road, bounced convulsively as Kane wrestled the wheel to get the car back in the right direction.

"The—broken dow—" Hawk's voice broke up.

"Say again," Kane demanded.

"—two—sand—engine—" The other vehicle's engine had seized in the sandstorm. Hell. There was a pause as they all contemplated this news. "Have—back—them."

"No," Kane said flatly. "Raazaq is already in the wind. They'll have to wait. Radio in and have the others pick them up when they come through."

There was a long pause. "Cou—three da—or more."

"Could be," Kane told him flatly. "I need you more than they do. Get your ass in ge—" He swore. "The line went dead."

"I'll try again." AJ used the satellite communicator, she tried the land line, she tried both cell phones.

Nothing worked.

All communications, satellite and otherwise, were suddenly, inexplicably, dead.

They were on their own.

"Raazaq is approximately eighteen miles ahead of us." Kane flicked a grim glance at the blip on the screen. "Which places him… where?"

"The oasis," AJ said triumphantly. "If we gun it, we can be there in twenty minutes. Tops."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Have a heading?"

"We're on it. Just keep going. We can do this."

Forty-five minutes later, Kane knew they'd arrived. The front bumper of their vehicle and a very large palm tree suddenly came eye to eye. He slammed on the brakes. The Humvee vibrated, its back end swinging wide in the sand, but it stopped dead just inches away from the trunk.

"Well done, bubba." AJ let out the breath she appeared to have been holding for miles, and started braiding her long hair. Hair as soft as the finest silk and smelling of roses and cinnamon.

"Raazaq better be here." AJ dropped her hands. "If not, where?"

"Wish to hell I knew." Kane squinted through a veil of swirling sand and observed the black tents and staked animals of the nomadic Bedouins.

She searched the bag at her feet. "What do we want to take in?"

"I'll take the Sig, thanks, and my knife." AJ handed him the weapons. Not much if things turned to shit. But they couldn't go in armed to the teeth and look friendly, either. He strapped the knife to his calf, then tugged his pant leg down over it. He leaned forward to secret the gun in the small of his back under his T-shirt. Wouldn't bear close scrutiny, but in the dark nobody would notice. "Take something small and discreet. Ready?"

"I'm weaponed up, if that's what you mean. Are we getting out, or do we sit here until the wind blows us to Oz?"

"Out, wiseass. Grab the canteen first."

They both wet large bandannas, squeezed out the excess water, and tied the damp cloths around their noses and mouths to keep out the sand. They looked like outlaws.

He held out his hand. "Grab that bag of supplies behind your seat. Give it to me. Here, I'll take it." He tucked the small leather sack inside his shirt.

AJ grabbed his hand and slid across the console, exiting beside him on the driver side. Instantly, she was battered by the never-ceasing wind. Kane put himself between her and the blast, but it was like trying to hold off a tornado with a screen door. The sand was everywhere. Living, breathing, an entity all to itself. It surrounded them, pelting against her skin like thousands of needles at once. Digging, stinging, slapping.

The wind wrenched the door handle out of Kane's hand and slammed the car door hard enough to shake the vehicle, missing her by a breath. Kane grabbed her hand and steadied her, pulling her toward the largest tent, in the center of the small encampment. A faint glow of a lamp within shone like a beacon, guiding them in out of the storm. The rest of the world was darkness and gale-force-driven sand.

Despite the wet cloth covering their faces, both choked and coughed on powder-fine dust particles as they leaned into the wind, weaving on unsteady feet like Saturday night drunks. Sand gritted between her teeth and coated her nose, despite the bandanna.

The narrow squint of their eyes made walking hazardous, and the damp cloths over their faces quickly clogged with sand, making breathing damn near impossible. He held on to AJ's hand tightly enough to crack her slender bones. And she was glad of it. He was the one stable point in this night filled with sound and fury and little else. Every step was torture. Every breath painful. She clung to Kane, a part of her terrified that she'd be plucked from his grasp and carried away on a wall of sand.

Christ. Kane'd never experienced anything like this. Particles stung his skin like microscopic shards of glass. He felt as if he were being sliced to pieces by an enemy too small and too numerous to fight. So much for this storm passing in eight hours. It'd been seven, and it didn't look as though it would let up anytime soon.

There was no sign of Raazaq's entourage. He had four vehicles, at least. But the fact that Kane couldn't see them didn't necessarily mean anything. The cars could be hidden behind the tents, or between some of the small mud huts scattered about the oasis. Hell. They could be sitting right in front of him and he wouldn't be able to see them. Impossible to tell in the dark with the sand blowing up a screen that covered everything unless they tripped over it.

There was a strong possibility that Raazaq wasn't here. That he'd somehow managed to ditch the tracking device. If that was the case, finding him now would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Or, in this case, one particular grain of sand in the middle of a khamsin.

The hot wind buffeted AJ smack into him. Hard. They staggered before Kane caught her and wrapped a strong arm about her waist, supporting her weight against him. Their booted feet sank into ankle-deep sand, which moved and shifted beneath them like quicksand.

The cluster of tents, which had seemed so close when they left the Humvee, appeared much farther away now. Almost as if the camp were slipping away from them. Hell, they wouldn't be the first people to get lost and die when safety lay a few feet away. The desert was alive and malicious. A killer with no compassion. Very much like the monster they were tracking. The only way they'd stay alive would be to remember that.

Kane called out a greeting in Arabic as they came within feet of the tent—fortunately they'd managed to arrive at the front door. More by accident than design. He pushed into the tent, dragging AJ in with him.

A man, reclining on the ground in a nest of blankets, looked up, startled, from the book he was reading.
"Salaam Aleikum."

"Aleikum es Salaam,"
Kane replied, drawing AJ inside. Still supporting her with one strong arm, he reached up and pulled his bandanna down to lay around the base of his neck. God, it felt good to draw a breath that wasn't filled with sand grinding its way down his throat.

"Assef. Ma-batkallamsh àrabi."
It would be expected that he didn't speak Arabic, but a wise man didn't plead too ignorant. A tourist would pick up a smattering of the language in his travels.

"I speak your American," the man said in deep, if halting accents. He waved them forward.
"Marhaba,
welcome, travelers."

After much
salaaming,
greetings, and offers of food and lodging, Kane and AJ found themselves seated on a pillow-strewn rug as the man woke his servants and ordered food prepared.

AJ slumped against Kane, yanking her bandanna down and scraping one hand across her dirty face to push her sand-encrusted hair back and out of her way. She looked gorgeous.

Kane was so damn glad to be out of the wind and sand that he grinned at her before turning his gaze to their new surroundings.

The goat- and camel-hair-paneled tent was large, and well insulated against the storm. Seven feet high, and held up by nine poles, the large space was divided into a women's side and a men's side, with rugs on the ground, and facing away from the worst of the winds. The raging sand screamed outside, and they had to raise their voices to be heard, but they were sufficiently protected from the worst of it.

Kane introduced himself and AJ, found out their host's name was Jafar Shaaeawi, and politely refused the first offer of food, as was custom. Their host politely insisted, which was also custom. Kane explained he was a photographer, AJ his model, and they were on their way to the Siwa Oasis. Of course, they were going nowhere near the oasis, but it was in a somewhat southerly direction and could explain why they were heading this way.