Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) (23 page)

“Channel two. Got it.” He locked eyes with Mel, who attempted to hide her worry with a shaky smile and lift of her chin. All he could do was touch her arm, the pads of his fingertips lingering briefly before he turned away.

****

He has a job to do,
Mel thought as she watched the back of Ric’s form disappear from the room. If the attackers weren’t identified…if an explosion happened and he was in the street… Mel forced the devastating thoughts from her head, unwilling to contemplate what the loss of Ric’s life would mean to her. As far as she knew, he was alive
now
. Until it was otherwise confirmed, he was coming back to her.

After Ross finished his brief conversation with the sheik — gaining nothing — he mentioned interrogating Qamar again. “She’s got information, and we can get it from her.”

“What if I spoke to her?” Mel offered.

Ross snorted. “You’re not trained for what I’m talking about. You catch runaway prisoners — this is the front line of the war on terror. Let the big boys handle it.”

Mel bristled at the patronizing condescension. “You might have better luck if a woman talks to her. She says she’s in love, right? I can reach her on that emotional level.”

Ross eyed her knowingly. “You sure can, can’t you?”

“Ross, do you want another punch in the face?” Daniels growled. “Let Ms. Lewis have a try. Besides, I don’t see her ’fessing up to you.” Daniels regarded Ross with a smirk. “Go with her, though. If Qamar doesn’t start talking in five minutes, you’re authorized to use alternative interrogation techniques,” Daniels said gravely.

Mel glanced about the room to see whether Daniel’s orders had any effect on anyone. Everyone seemed oblivious — dutifully and diligently doing their jobs. Mel hurried from the room and down the staircase.
She’s got to talk. They won’t give her asylum and a happily ever after if my man gets blown up in the street!

The sound of gunfire had her and Ross crouching down, even though the sound wasn’t coming from the stairwell. Ross removed his gun from his holster, positioned himself in front of Mel, and led the way down the stairs. When they reached the door that would lead to the security office, Ross put his arm out to block Mel from proceeding with him through the door. “We don’t know if the guards have secured the floor. Stay back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.” Mel acknowledged him with silence.

Ross eased open the door with his right hand and held the weapon with the left. He looked through the slight crack of an opening. “Looks clear. We go on three. One, two, three.” He pushed the door open the rest of the way and two shots from an automatic weapon rang out. Mel stifled a cry at the thudding sound of bullets as they hit Ross in the chest. He grunted from the impact and slid against the doorframe. His left arm landed in the stairwell; the gun slipped from his hand. Mel immediately picked it up and put her back against the wall opposite the hinges of the door. Although the stairwell door was still propped open by Ross’s lifeless body, she was out of the shooter’s line of sight.

Mel knew exactly who the shooter was without having eyes on her. They were prepared for Qamar Sadiq to perhaps blow herself up trying to gain entry into the compound, but to take out one guard at a time from the inside?
She must have overpowered the guards somehow.
The woman was beautiful and probably used to charming her way out of situations.
There goes your asylum. I bet that boyfriend in Germany isn’t even real!

Mel steadied her breathing and remained absolutely still against the cold brick of the wall behind her. Soft footsteps grew louder. Mel’s grip on the gun handle tightened. An explosive boom rocked the complex. Mel’s free hand pressed flat against the wall; her body shuddered from the shock of the sound. She heard faint car sirens and realized the explosion had occurred
outside
the facility. Mel stifled a gasp.
Ric!

Qamar skidded to a halt in front of Ross’s body. Her eyes widened when they locked with Mel. Mel’s eyes dropped to the gun in Qamar’s hand. Before Qamar could lift the weapon, Mel let out a cry and with a high kick, knocked the gun from Qamar’s hand, and sent it sailing across the hallway.

Qamar was barely fazed, her attention on Mel’s rising right shooting arm. Qamar closed the distance between them and cut off Mel’s angle by ramming her hard in the chest. Both women fell into the stairwell. The gun jolted from Mel’s grasp. They wrestled on the ground; Mel attempted to get a few blows into the woman’s abdomen, while Qamar tried unsuccessfully to reach for the loose weapon.

As she released a guttural groan, Mel rolled onto Qamar’s stomach. She fisted Qamar’s abdomen in rapid succession. When her hair was yanked to one side, she cried out at the stinging pain in her scalp. A fist to her face caused Mel to fall back, leaving her own stomach exposed and allowing Qamar to land a solid kick. Mel groaned and her arms went around her midsection. Qamar scrambled for the gun and Mel barely tumbled over Ross’s fallen body when a series of shots rang out from his weapon.

Cover was her first priority. Mel ducked into the security office as a bullet struck the door. Two guards lay dead on the floor, one with gunshot wounds to the chest and the other a shot to the side of his head. Mel eyed the weapon on the guard with the head wound and quickly released the magazine to check for bullets. He hadn’t gotten a round off. The scene appeared to be an execution-style killing.
No time to call for back-up.
Mel locked the door and scanned the room for the phone. She called the operations room upstairs. “Come on!” she shouted as the phone continued to ring. Either they were having their own encounter with Qamar or everyone was busy with the situation outside.

Mel refused to allow her mind to wander to Ric. Her life was in danger and if she didn’t do what she had to to keep herself alive, then thinking about Ric would be the last thing she did. When an analyst finally answered, she quickly explained the situation. “You need to alert the rest of security!”

When she didn’t hear the voice again, she almost hung up the phone when Daniels came on the other end. “Ms. Lewis? Stay where you are. We’ll be sending men to you.”

“I doubt she’ll sit here and wait for me to open the door or for someone to come and shoot her. She’ll probably be heading for the exit.”

“Just stay there!”

The line went dead. Never one to follow instructions to the letter, Mel glanced at the camera monitors on a nearby table. One gave her the view of the hallway and Ross’s deceased body. Qamar had disappeared. “I’ll take my chances,” Mel breathed and marched to the door.

****

His ears were ringing. The tone itself was deafening and no matter how tightly he covered them, Ric couldn’t get it to shut off. The skin of his lower legs burned and in his back what felt like daggers stabbed him again and again. Ric let out a breath from his strained lungs and attempted to open his eyes. Everything was hazy. Or was he staring into the sky?

Ric rolled off his back and immediately the pain lessened. So he wasn’t being stabbed. He was lying on a bed of large chunks of gravel. The lower half of his pants was shredded and his legs were bloody. As long as he had the use of his legs, skin would grow back. His hearing, however…
Gracias a
Dios.
At least he was alive.

Gradually, the sounds of people and cars around him filtered back through his pained eardrums. Women screamed, children cried, and men shouted in confusion. Police sirens were off in the distance, but close enough were the constant blaring of a few car alarms activated by the intensity of the blast.

He and the ground crew had swept numerous trucks in the vicinity, verified the identities of the drivers and their cargo, and asked the drivers to move their vehicles for their own safety. Ric was near the back of one nondescript truck, approximately ten meters, when a force blew him off his feet and into the pavement. He could’ve swore he had hit something before landing on the ground; something just as solid but with a much different feel. Almost like metal.

The dust from the debris of the explosion still lingered in the air; Ric’s eyes watered as he blinked rapidly to clear them. When he rotated his head to the street, he saw what had broken his fall: a small, older model hatchback, by the looks of the round dent on the side of the hood.

With a groan, Ric rolled to his knees and nearly cried out. A sharp pain in his tailbone halted his progress. He breathed hard to fight through the intense throbbing. So he hit the car butt first. Thanks to his mother, all the Santiago brothers had admirable backsides, which often drew subtle glances and pleased grins from the ladies…and he was never more grateful for that asset.

He crawled over to the side of the vehicle, grabbed the side mirror, and used it as leverage to hoist his weight. The stabbing pain worried Ric.
I hope I didn’t break it. The entire agency will hear about it and I’ll be the most laughed at agent. Ric Santiago...field officer...injured in the line of duty with a broken...butt.

Chaos surrounded him on both the sidewalk where he had landed and in the street at the site where the truck had been moments before.
I’ve got to get back inside. I’m too vulnerable in this condition.
No telling where Abdul or any of his other men could be in the growing throng of onlookers and emergency personnel. The vehicle — or what was left of it — was still on fire, its twisted metal pieces charred beneath the heat of the flames. Was anyone inside during the explosion? Ric couldn’t remember whether he’d seen someone in the side mirror as he approached. The memory returned to him in glares and shadows. There could’ve been someone inside, but a remote-controlled vehicle explosive device would spare a human life to be used for other things like—

Boom!

A second explosion thundered in the air, drawing louder screams and shouts of fear and panic. The aftershock was felt through the air and Ric surmised it was very close. He moved into the crowded street and focused his gaze above the heads. Northeast of the embassy, he saw a plume of black smoke.
A second bomb. How many more are there?

Ric pushed and shoved his way through the tightly packed throng. He wasn’t doing any good out here stuck in the middle of the mass. When he reached the sidewalk that circled the embassy, he spotted another field agent who blended into the group near him while he scanned the crowd. Their eyes briefly met before Ric resumed his course toward the security entrance. The other agent hadn’t appeared to be identified by anyone and Ric wasn’t about to blow the man’s cover. His boss would want as much information as possible from the men on the ground whose job it was to monitor the situation and intervene only when absolutely necessary.

While the people looked at the wreckages, Ric slipped back into the embassy. Once inside, he took a moment to lean against the secured door. His hand rested on his lower back. The injury was more than just a bruise. The bone was most likely broken.
It’ll have to wait.
Right now, he planned to report to his boss for further instructions. His eyes darted from the elevator to the hallway that led to the staircase. Ric started for the elevator.

Faint sounds of pinging occurred just as the doors to the elevator closed. His hearing hadn’t fully returned, and his equilibrium was more than slightly off as he pushed the button to the fourth level instead of the second one. The pinging morphed into crackling, and Ric hit the emergency stop for the elevator. The door opened to the second floor. Another crack in the air and Ric covered his sensitive ears. His drums burned at the sound. It wasn’t
that
loud, was it?

Gunfire. A succession of shots rang out and Ric painfully sprinted from the elevator to the nearest room door. Who was shooting? Before he had a chance to open the door, he heard a woman cry out followed by a thud to the floor.

Melody!

He glanced down the hallway where she’d fallen, a gun still in her hand. No. It wasn’t her, but her darkly beautiful doppelganger. How had she gotten out of the security hold? Ric knelt, grunting as he did, and pulled the concealed nine-millimeter weapon from his ankle sheath. He had just risen to full height when Abdul came running around the corner. The man halted mid-stride, and then stumbled a couple of feet. His eyes grew wide in apparent shock.

For you, Hakeem.

Ric didn’t wait for Abdul to regain his composure for a high noon draw. Abdul thrust his weapon forward but it was too late. The shot rang out; the bullet snapped Abdul’s head back and sent him to the floor.

He expected to feel something — a sense of relief, a weight lifted from his soul — but seeing Abdul’s lifeless body on the floor of the embassy did little to erase the pain of Hakeem’s passing or the anger he still harbored toward the man who abducted Mel. He ignored the fact that if Abdul never had the audacity to snatch a United States federal officer off the streets of the UAE, he would have never met his future bride.

Bride.

Where was Melody?

From around the corner, the woman who would soon be his fiancée came into view, weapon first. Ric raised his arms in surrender, and hoped she wasn’t the type who would shoot first and verify later. She gave him a questioning look, much like Abdul’s before he shot him dead.

“Ric?” Her shooting arm dropped.

“
Oyé, morena
. How good you look to me right now,” he whispered. He hoped she heard him because he barely heard himself with his ears still ringing.

“Is it really you? You’re alive?”

He nodded. “It’s me. Were you expecting someone else?” he teased.

“I heard explosions…”

“Yeah, I was in one of them.”

Her gaze still held disbelief. It traveled to the floor. “Abdul…”

“Melody.” Her eyes drifted up to him. “Come here.”

Her eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled; she rushed forward. Ric nearly cringed at the speed she moved toward him, and set one foot back to brace for impact. It wasn’t enough. He grunted loudly when she practically jumped on top of him, and it took every bit of his strength to hold her to him and not let her slip to the floor. She immediately noticed his reaction and leaned back slightly; her legs went limp and allowed him to set her on her feet.