Out of Sight (3 page)

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Authors: Cherry Adair

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Terrorism

BOOK: Out of Sight
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"Just a reminder, Cooper," he reminded
himself,
"when you're with me you're not a woman, you're an operative."

Struben snorted, forgetting, or not, that every word was transmitted on his mic. "The cold son of a bitch must be deaf, dumb, and blind."

Kane ignored Struben's comment. For now. The man had just punched the last hole in his ticket home. One more off-color remark and he'd be in the cargo bay on the transport Stateside with Escobar and Cooper.

AJ's mic clicked off. Kane glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her mouth was moving.

Smart of her not to let him hear whatever she was saying. Hell and damn.

In the midst of the pissing contest being played out in the car, he'd been keeping an eye out for the vehicles that had been following them. The white car wasn't behind them anymore—not anywhere Kane could see it, anyway. But it was there. Somewhere.

Cars, trucks, horse-drawn carts, and livestock vied for position on the roads. It was early evening, and the streets were crowded. Fiats and Hondas hemmed in plodding wooden carts, tinted-windowed BMWs vied for space with flocks of sheep and boys driving camels.

The sidewalks were Disneyland-packed with crowds of people from rich to poor. Mingling, chatting, and drinking coffee in outdoor coffeehouses, they were a moving, shifting tapestry.

The air was thick with the smell of days-old produce, smoke, diesel fuel, and the pervasive, dank odor of the Nile. The river ran through the concrete jungle as a sewage system as well as the city's water-supply and laundry.

Kane took familiar, and unfamiliar, side arterials, swooped up onto a busy freeway, shot over another bridge, the one remaining chase vehicle tight on his ass.

He took a turn, cornering without slowing down. Skipped lanes to avoid a flock of sheep, made another right. The other maniacs on the road separated the chase car from them. But it was still there.

Most of the streetlights had been shot or burned out on these narrow side alleyways. Zebra-striped pockets of light and shadow slashed across his vision. One part of his brain concentrated on losing their tail. The other tossed the problem of AJ Cooper around like worry beads through nervous fingers.

If her reputation was accurate, she could do the job. Given the situation she'd been briefed on, she
could
do it. But was the last hour an indication of how she'd behave under pressure? Kane didn't know the woman well enough to make the call. And there was no room for another mistake.

Could she do her job given the right set of circumstances?

He had to be sure.
Probably
wasn't going to cut it. He had to be 100 percent convinced, without a moment's doubt, sure that when face-to-face with Raazaq, AJ would pull the trigger.

Because no matter what the hell he said, or how strongly he felt about sending her home, AJ Cooper was the only one available who could eliminate Raazaq. If there'd been any other choice, she wouldn't have been here in the first place. Like it or not, Kane was stuck with her. He might be a master of disguises, but even he couldn't duplicate a drop-dead-beautiful, five-foot-eight-inch, well-endowed, green-eyed, redheaded female.

There were many reasons he'd wanted to get Raazaq before the man started his trek into the desert. One of them being keeping AJ Cooper as far the hell away from the sick son of a bitch as was humanly possible. That opportunity was lost.

Now he was about to hand her to the terrorist on a silver platter, with an apple in her mouth.

AJ Cooper was Fazur Raazaq's designated assassin.

AJ felt sweat pool at the base of her throat and between her breasts. She almost wished they
would
shoot her and get it over with. Filled with dread, she was poised to jump out of the car the moment Kane told her to.

Clambering over rooftops was going to be a piece of cake compared to waiting for a bullet to hit her in the back of the head, smashing it like a dropped watermelon on a summer day. Ah, Jesus God…

Earlier in the day, they'd left town from the ritzy Hotel Ra, in a completely different direction as they'd circled into position above Raazaq's camp. AJ didn't recognize this area at all. Escobar and Struben had gone directly to the safe house in Imbaba and picked them up at their hotel downtown before they'd headed out.

They traveled a few more blocks before she recognized their location. Thanks to Kane, and his detailed debriefing reports from an assignment a few months ago. Like all his other reports, she'd pored over that one as well, studying his style, his modus operandi. Learning him. Absorbing his techniques.

The Khan al Khalili bazaar should be coming up soon on their left—Yes. There. The smell of roses, cinnamon, and dozens of other sweet and savory fragrances hung in the air. The stalls were crowded with late-night shoppers. If this were a movie, Wright would plow through the vendor stalls, fruit and veggies flying. A: It wasn't a movie. B: Kane Wright had more control than that. He'd circle and twist through the old
suqs
and capillary alleys until he lost the tail. Then he'd abandon the vehicle and make it on foot and take to the rooftops.

"Two seventy-five," AJ told him as the bad guys got close enough for her to count. "Six noses."

Wright spun the little car into a tight one-eighty, and slipped down a narrow side street. She hit her shoulder sharply on the empty window frame, but ignored the pain. There was another sharp jog about… now. Moonlight didn't reach into the constricted, dank canyon. The pungent stink of burnt rubber filled the air as the car skidded around the corner.

The chase car was too wide to follow them, but if the bad guys were smart, they'd block both exits.

"Struben, you and Escobar take the fire escape to the left. Cooper, with me. We'll go down a bit farther, then to the right. Cooper and I will take to the rooftops. She's too important to let them see her now."

"They already saw me," she pointed out, her voice flat and raspy with fear. Fear or not, she had a job to do, and damn it, she was going to do it. If she could just swallow this acidic lump in her throat and stop her heart from beating so damn fast.

Damn. Damn. Damn. How could she want to do this so badly and still be scared out of her mind? How did the others do it? None
of them
were sick to their stomachs. At least not so's anyone could tell.

"They saw what they expected to see. Four men in dark clothing. Get ready, you two. Cooper, stick to me like crazy glue. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." She turned and hooked the straps of the Dragunov andAK-47 over her chest, bandolier-style, and tucked the Sig into the front of her belt. "Ready," she repeated more firmly. Her stomach lurched up into her throat to join her erratic pulse.

Fear into anger, my ass.
This was so not working.

Fear was fear was fear.

"Now!" Kane told the men in back.

The car jostled as the two men lunged for a fire escape on a brick warehouse. One of them grunted as he hit with the full force of his body. Manny's arm. AJ bit her lip, but didn't turn around.

There was barely enough room for the car as it hurtled down the narrow lane.

"Hand me that water bag behind you," Kane instructed.

AJ flipped her weapons against her back and out of the way, then twisted to reach down onto the floorboard. Her fingers closed around the bag. Getting a better grip, she hauled it up and handed over the heavy water bag they'd brought, but had never used.

"Three." Kane took it, and put the pedal to the metal. "Two…" He wedged the canvas sack against the accelerator pedal. Removed his foot, checked to see that it would hold at that speed. "Go!" He stood, crouched on his seat, one foot beside her hip. "Up! Up! Go! Go! Go!"

There wasn't room to open the doors in the alley, good thing there was no top to the car. AJ shot to her feet and lunged for a fire-escape ladder as they shot past it. Her weapon slammed hard against her back as she climbed the wonkie ladder like a monkey.

She felt a large hand on her butt, and appreciated the extra burst of speed with a little help from the man behind her. The ladder abruptly ended. She jumped up and caught the next one in both hands, then swung her body up and over and started climbing again. The two large guns were heavy on her back. The building was Mt. Everest. The ladders were rusted and barely adhered to the crumbling brick. Damn good thing she wasn't afraid of heights.

Climb. Hand over hand. Leg up. Jump, grip, climb. There was nothing else. Heat. Pounding heart. Climb. Climb. Climb. Faster, damn it.

She sensed rather than saw the presence behind her. Kane. Knowing he was with her made her feel better. More confident.

A massive blast from the street below lit the night sky with a demonic glow. Flames and thick black smoke flared high. Their vehicle had made it to the end of the alley.

The noise, and the brilliance of the fire, pulled people from their beds. Raised voices floated up on the still air. A bomb? Who? Where? Contrary to popular belief, Cairo was a very safe city. People were startled and frightened by the explosion. Hopefully, a panicked, curious crowd would slow down their pursuers.

AJ hung by one hand for a second when her sweaty palm began to slip off the rung. The warm metal creaked under her deathlike grip. She swung her body for momentum and managed a solid two-handed grip before swinging up to the next rung. The muscles in her arms screamed. She ignored their SOS.

Shouts from below. The clatter of booted feet on metal.

AJ climbed faster.

A bullet ricocheted off the building, missing her left hand by inches. Okay. Maybe she could manage it even quicker if she stopped thinking about the feeling of…
Never mind, damn it! Climb. Climb!

This was nothing like training exercises.
Nothing
.

Ten stories. She'd tackled more in boot camp, but she was out of breath, her chest heaving when she finally saw the flat surface of the roof at nose level. Thank you, God.

The sudden sensation of a large hand on her butt propelled her the last few feet. She flew up onto the roof, and staggered to keep her balance. "Tha—"

"Go," Kane ordered, even as he crouched low and raced across the roof, weapon drawn. Panic rose inside her like bubbles in boiling water. She stared at his back for an instant. He didn't look either scared or sweaty. AJ gave a small inward sigh, but didn't waste time wondering how long it would take her to be that good. That in charge. That in control. She started running, emulating his movements, as she pulled her Sig from her belt and hurried to catch up.

No amount of training could've prepared her for this reality. Her heart raced with equal parts exhilaration and sheer, unadulterated terror. The buildings were relatively close together—close if one was a flying squirrel or a bird.

A canyon opened up ahead. She caught up with Kane, and they ran hell-bent for leather across the heat-sticky rooftop. At the exact same time they raised their arms, flung themselves forward doing the splits. Their momentum hurled them across the ten-foot-wide, ten-story-deep cliff separating the buildings. AJ slammed into the wall with enough force to jar her from head to toe. Kane was already standing as she threw a leg over the small lip of the roof.

He reached down and grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto the flat surface. Without missing a beat, he hauled her up, then dived behind a small square structure—probably an air-conditioning unit for the building—and pulled her down beside him.

"Scared?" he asked, still holding on to her hand. His was dry and firm; hers, slick with sweat.

"Shitless," AJ panted. She could barely hear over the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

He chuckled low under his breath. "Scared keeps you sharp."

"Then I'm a razor."

The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Something else flashed there as well. Anger? Pain? Empathy? Masked as quickly as it had floated to the surface. AJ had the irrational urge to reassure him. Silly. He was the man of steel. She resisted the impulse, but left her hand in his. Just for the moment.

"Courage is mastery of fear," Kane told her, smile gone. "Not
absence
of fear. You were sent in because they know you're ready. You have the skills. Trust your training. Focus and breathe. We have a straight shot to the next roof before they get up here. Ready?"

"You bet." She let him haul her to her feet again. The voices were getting louder. They ran side by side. AJ suspected Kane was dragging her with him, and was grateful when he didn't release her hand. He was the Energizer Bunny pulling her along. She needed all the help she could get. They were flying.

The men behind them shouted to one another in Arabic. AJ didn't speak much Arabic, just a word here and there. But she used their voices to pinpoint where they were. Close. Too close. The minute their heads cleared the roofline they'd start firing, and there was nowhere to hide up here. The roof was flat and endless. Its blackness melted into the dark night.

Her booted feet bit into the slightly sticky surface even as she scanned the area for shelter. Nothing. Just the next roof. And the next. And the next.

The flash of weapons-fire. Not even close. They couldn't see them. Not dressed in black as they were, and not against the unrelieved darkness. They were shooting blind. AJ didn't return fire. The muzzle flare would alert them to their exact location.

"Take a running jump, and spread wide," he ordered, releasing her hand.

"I'm with you. Go. Go. Go." There wasn't time for ladies first. It was every man for himself. She knew that. They started running together, but his legs were longer. And stronger. And, damn it, surer.

Wright took an upright, running jump. She shot a sideways glance as he almost levitated across the gap and cleared the fifteen-foot space between two buildings.

AJ mimicked his every move. Hot air rushed past her face as she lifted off, her legs in a splits position, her body forward, arms windmilling to keep her momentum. She hung, suspended for a lifetime, above the yawning maw of the street below before landing in an ungainly sprawl on the other side. Safe. Not a great landing by any stretch of the imagination, and she was damn grateful that Wright was yards ahead and hadn't seen her foot slip. Still, a bad landing was better than no landing at all.

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