Targeted (FBI Heat) (21 page)

“Sounds flimsy, but I guess it’s all we’ve got. And what about the weapon? Did the clerk see anything?”

“Maybe. He saw some guy approach Pablo as he was putting his duffle bag in the trunk. He handed Pablo a plastic shopping bag, and Pablo reached in his pocket and gave the guy something the clerk couldn’t see. Probably cash. Of course, the clerk thought it was a drug deal.”

“And it could’ve been. Seems unlikely Pablo’s our guy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where do we stand?”

“We put out a BOLO to all law enforcement agencies with the plate number and full description of the Chevy Impala that Pablo rented. We also warned them that he’s armed and dangerous.”

“Let’s say we find this car, this guy. How do we determine if he’s Liban? He won’t have his real name tattooed on his ass.”

“We’re coming at it the other way, proving Pablo isn’t real by checking out the Rosarito Beach address from the driver’s license.”

“Okay. Now let’s hope some cop can find the damn car among the handful of vehicles on those deserted California freeways.” The agent choked on his laugh when Rawlings scowled at him. “If this is Liban, he’s got a good head start on us and plenty of time before the meeting with Ameen at the mosque. He could lay low in LA or take a more indirect route than I-5. Be sure everyone in the op knows about the Chevy Impala.” He sighed. “This is one helluva long shot.”

A
meen laid Marissa on the bed as gently as if she were a delicate, porcelain doll, an image that clashed so absurdly with reality that she would normally have laughed. But something about the tender gesture touched the loneliness and emotional turmoil which had been brewing inside her for two excruciating weeks. So tears flowed instead of laughter.

Still fully clothed, Ameen sat on the bed beside her, his eyes dark with desire but his face solemn with concern. “You are crying. I have offended you.” He reached for the sheet to cover her nakedness.

She caught his hand and laid it on her breast instead. “No, not offended. Touched. You’ve connected with me in a way… Living with the cell, I’ve felt so alone. I…I…” She shook her head. “Their hate is changing…” She gave up when her fractured thoughts refused to form a complete, coherent sentence.

His thumb wiped at her tears. “I understand, Baheera, more than you know, about the evil of their hatred.” He drew a deep breath and looked away. “When I was on a mission in Afghanistan, an IED hit my SEAL team’s vehicle. I was the lone survivor of four men, and the Taliban terrorists took me prisoner. They tortured me for five days before I was able to escape.”

“Oh God, Ameen.”

He shook his head at the memory. “The physical pain paled in comparison to the psychological torment. My hatred of them became overwhelming. When the opportunity to escape came one night, I hesitated—believe it or not. I almost wanted to stay for the chance to kill them more than I wanted to be free. Almost. Thank Allah, I came to my senses while I still had time to get away.”

His gaze returned to her when she laid her hand on his arm.

“You see, Baheera, I really do understand the emotional war raging inside you. And I know it is a factor in your need to finish this op. A factor that scares you. And it should. Just don’t let it become who you are.”

He sighed. “In my case, before dawn the next morning, I led a helicopter raid on the house where I’d been held. We blew the place to pieces, killing everyone inside. And the hatred left me, didn’t continue to dominate me.” He touched her cheek. “Finish what you must do and then move on with your life.”

He understands. He really does
. Another connection. One she’d never shared before with anyone, even Ben. And now she wanted more than anything else to make love with this amazing man.

“I want you, Ameen.”

“I want you too. But are you sure, Baheera? I’m afraid your emotions make you…vulnerable. I don’t want you to look back on this and regret it.”

“I won’t regret anything I’ve done with you. I believe in connections, and I think we are ready for the next one. A sexual connection.” Tears welled and overflowed. “Please, Ameen, I want…I need you to make love to me.”

Her pleading must’ve overcome the last of his reservations because he shed his clothes without another word and lay down beside her. The admiration shining in his eyes was almost embarrassing. He probably hadn’t been with a woman in a long time because of his vow of abstinence.

His vow. Oh God. What have I done?
“Ameen, stop.”

The hand caressing her breasts stilled instantly. He slowly dragged his gaze away from them to meet her eyes. “You have changed your mind?”

“No. Yes. Oh, Ameen, I’m so sorry. I forgot about your vow of abstinence.”

He hesitated. “My vow is your
only
reason for stopping me?”

She nodded.

“Then there is
no
reason to stop.”

Before she could voice another objection, Ameen covered her lips with his. While his tongue explored her mouth, his hands returned to her breasts, gently cupping and kneading them. Then his lips trailed kisses down her neck and across her breast to capture a firm, pink point. His tongue circled and flicked her nipple until a bolt of heat flashed through her. She moaned, and he shifted to her other breast to repeat the torment.

When her next moan signaled mission accomplished, his carnal attack moved south, fingers and tongue, touching and tasting, down her belly to the V of her thighs. He cupped her sex gently as his long fingers probed her opening. She gasped and pressed against his hand. He pushed her legs apart and leaned over her. As his finger slid inside her, his tongue stroked her most sensitive spot.

Marissa cried out and arched off the bed, riding the radiating waves of pleasure.

Chuckling, he raised his head to meet her eyes. “You are so responsive.”

Catching her breath, she smiled. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” She pulled him on top of her and wiggled until she was strategically aligned with his erection. She rubbed against his hard dick and watched his restraint ebb.

His head drooped, his eyes closed, and his forehead pressed against hers. “I want inside you, Baheera, but you can still say no.”

“I want you inside me too,” she whispered. “Now.”

He obliged with a slow, firm thrust. Her mouth formed an
O
of satisfaction as he filled her. He withdrew and thrust again, harder, deeper. His own pleasure produced a primal groan. His hips began a steady, accelerating rhythm, and his breathing turned ragged.

She looked up into his eyes and saw need and desire fill them. Pressure built, fire ignited. Her body tightened around his dick. With a soft cry, she wrapped her legs around his hips.

His eyes widened, and all restraint disappeared. He pumped with desperate urgency.

Their eyes locked a second before he sent her over the edge. A moment later, he tumbled after her.

Ameen felt her tears on his chest. “It cannot be a good thing that you cry before
and
after I make love to you.”

“I feel awful,” Marissa whispered.

“I was that bad?” he asked, feigning indignation.

“No, you were wonderful. But I’m so…so selfish for seducing you and tempting you into breaking your vow.”

He remained silent for a long time. “You mock me?”

She pushed up so she could see his face. “Mock you? Never. I’m crying, Ameen, because I’m ashamed of being so selfish.” More tears dripped onto his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

He wiped away the stream of tears while he contemplated her words. “I am a good Muslim, Baheera. Not as devout as some, but still a good one.” He exhaled. “But I am also a man, not a boy. And if you seduced me, it was not with your body but with your heart. This was not your decision. I chose to break my vow of abstinence…with you.”

“What if Allah punishes you for doing this? I’ll feel responsible.”

He chuckled. “I don’t believe Allah is vengeful. Especially for something like this, a very human weakness.”

“But you’ll never forget I was the one who—”

“I will never forget
anything
about you, Baheera.”

“Your words sound like I’m…already gone.” A grim look crossed her lovely face.

“I am practical, not foolish. I don’t believe you live here in San Diego, so you will be leaving.” His fingers traveled up and down her bare back.

She laid her head against his shoulder. “You’re right. I live in DC.”

He tried to ignore the emptiness filling him. “When you return home, will you also return to your lover, the one you broke up with?”

“No.” She cringed. “You must think I’m terrible to sleep with you so soon after breaking off a relationship.”

“I do not judge you. He was a lucky man to hold your heart, even for a while. I envy him.”

She rose onto her elbow to look into his eyes. “Ameen, at this moment, I feel more connected to you than I ever felt to Ian. Right now, you are my lover.”

His throat tightened. “Then Allah has truly blessed, not punished, me.” He drew her to him and kissed her passionately.

When she pulled away, her fingernails traced through his chest hair and teased his nipples. A trail of heat followed her touch, and he watched her every move. Her tongue toyed with his earlobe. Then her hand slid down the center of his chest, across his tight abs, and stopped just before the mass of curly black hair. His breath caught in anticipation before she grasped and stroked him. His erection swelled again, strong and demanding.

Marissa rolled her slender body up onto his. His chest rose and fell against her breasts with each breath, and his dick throbbed between their naked bodies. Sitting up, she straddled him and molded his hands around her breasts.

“Hold on. Now I’m going to make love to you,” she whispered.

She slid down on him. Her hot wetness swallowed him to the base.

Ameen moaned and closed his eyes.

The outside world disappeared.

For thirty wonderful minutes, they were simply lovers.

W
hen the engineers rushed inside, they found Fateen guarding the front door and Masoud the back. Khaleel thought their anxious faces looked haggard, evidence they’d hardly slept in the last two days.

While taking the partially assembled bomb out of the bedroom closet, Khaleel and Nadeem also armed themselves with semi-automatic rifles. Then they persuaded Fateen and Masoud to take a nap in the front room so they could work on the bomb in the back room alone. After some initial resistance, the two exhausted terrorists agreed to the suggestion and were soon asleep on the floor.

Even though Nadeem had left his scarf in his car, the oppressive heat in the house beaded his face with sweat. Khaleel’s scarf was already wet as he carried in the C-4 from his vehicle. To ease his discomfort, he removed his sweat-darkened shirt and wiped his eyes.

“Why do you insist on the scarf?” Nadeem asked as they studied the instructions explaining how to install the explosive. “We are all brothers.”

Khaleel’s eyes darted from the papers to the front room and back. He deliberately spoke in Spanish. “It is not the brothers who worry me.”

Nadeem leaned back on his heels, a perplexed expression on his face. “You do not like Baheera.”

He shot the other engineer an impatient look. “It is not a matter of like, but a matter of trust.”

Nadeem frowned. “Are you angry she is our new leader? If you prefer her role, maybe you should volunteer to be the bomber.” Annoyance tinged his tone.

Resentment burned inside Khaleel.
You are stupid like the others. The bitch has deceived all of you weaklings. Allah, help me.
He glared at his partner with growing animosity.

The men fell into a sullen silence as they concentrated on properly installing the C-4. Nadeem read the instructions, examined the diagram, and pointed out the steps. With trembling fingers, Khaleel inserted the material and configured the connections. They double-checked each step before moving on to the next one. The tedious work strained Khaleel’s nerves until he felt ready to snap.

When they needed a break, they stood and paced around the room, hoping to ease the tension in their muscles. Nadeem opened two bottles of water, and they settled back on the floor.

“Why don’t you trust Baheera?” Nadeem asked, warily eyeing him.

Khaleel listened for movement in the other room but heard only snoring. He took a long swig of the water before answering. “Some things don’t seem right.”

“Like what?”

His eyes speared Nadeem with a dark glare. “Why do you care? You worship her.”

“No, I respect her for the sacrifice she’s making. I think you’re jealous that she’s braver than you.”

His fists clenched. “No, brother. I agree she’s brave. I’m just not sure her bravery is for Allah.”

“What? You’re crazy. Why would you say such a disrespectful thing?”

“All right, I’ll tell you. First, I don’t believe her story about the night Samir and Omar were killed. Why didn’t the drug gang come back here and kill her? They wouldn’t have been afraid of one woman—even if she had an AK-47. And why didn’t they take any of the electronic parts?”

“Samir and Omar could have injured their attackers before they were killed, so the thieves couldn’t come back. The Mexicans were probably hoping to find guns or drugs hidden in here. Instead, they found a bunch of electronic parts they had no use for. Why risk facing a woman with a gun for something they didn’t want?” Nadeem answered, his voice rising.

“Quiet or you’ll wake those two idiots,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the front room. He wasn’t ready to concede the argument so he continued. “Baheera could’ve used the guns to go help Samir and Omar.”

“She was carrying Allah’s gift in her womb. Was that not more important?”

“Okay, so you’ve got an answer for everything. What about the nicknames she gave us?”

Nadeem shook his head and looked at Khaleel like he was crazy. “
We
chose not to tell her our real names. Why does it matter what she calls us?”

“The names Baheera chose are suspicious.”

“Suspicious? We described ourselves as friends. I think she was clever to pick Arab names that mean ‘friend.’”

“And she just happened to pick my
real
name as my nickname,” Khaleel said. “It wouldn’t be so bad if she’d called you Khaleel and me Nadeem. But she didn’t. That’s no coincidence.” He hesitated. “I think she knows who we are.”

“Would it matter if she does? Maybe Samir told her.”

“When we joined Samir’s group, he swore he’d never tell anyone our names, even Husaam. Remember? And why does Baheera ridicule our desire for anonymity?”

“Because we’re being cowardly.” Nadeem seemed to temper his anger. “Okay, let’s assume everything you said is true. What do you think it means?”

Khaleel narrowed his eyes and stared coldly at Nadeem. Should he trust his partner with his theory? He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I believe Baheera is a fake, an infidel. She has betrayed Allah, Husaam, and all of us. I think she killed Samir and Omar. Or someone killed them for her. And I don’t think she was here that whole night.”

Nadeem’s eyes widened. “You call the wife of our leader a traitor to our cause. You curse her as an infidel. You are crazy!” He sprang to his feet.

Khaleel leaped up and grabbed his arm. “Shut up, you fool. Maybe I am, but I don’t want to take any chances. I have a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Nadeem’s tone revealed his distrust.

“A way to complete our mission even if Baheera doesn’t do it.”

“She’ll do it.”

“Okay, so consider this harmless insurance.”

“What?”

Khaleel pulled two inexpensive cell phones from his pocket.

“What are those for?” Nadeem asked, his gaze darting in the direction of the snoring terrorists as though he wished they would wake up and support him in the argument.

“These are my insurance.”

“Who are you going to call?”

“The bomb.”

Nadeem’s engineering brain assembled the pieces. “To detonate it.”

Khaleel smiled with pride. “Right. All I have to do is connect the bomb to the phone’s ringer. When I call that phone, it detonates the bomb. Quite easy, really. Used all the time in Iraq and Afghanistan. Even in Bali. I did my homework. The Internet was very helpful.”

Nadeem stared at him, aghast. “This is wrong. You can’t do this to Baheera. She should be allowed to control her own death.”

“If she does her job, I won’t have to do a thing. But if she doesn’t, then—”

“No! I won’t let you do this.” Nadeem stepped back, putting his hand out in front of him. “I’ll tell Baheera and the others.”

You little fool. Why don’t you see her deception? Too bad.
Khaleel knew what he had to do. He shuffled his feet nervously. He peered at the bomb and sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t know where all those suspicions came from. I guess I’m being paranoid.”

“Yes, you are. Give me the phones.”

He hesitated before handing them over.

Nadeem jammed them into his pants pocket.

“Before we get back to installing the explosive, let’s load some boxes of parts in your car to take back to the plant. I’m sure Baheera wants them out of here today,” Khaleel suggested. Without waiting for a reply, he bent down, picked up a box, and turned toward the front room.

Releasing a loud sigh of relief, Nadeem lifted another box. He chuckled as they hurried past Fateen and Masoud, still dead to the world.

With the boxes on the ground, Khaleel waited beside the car while Nadeem pulled the keys from his pocket. After raising the trunk lid, Nadeem leaned in to rearrange the contents to make room.

In an instant, Khaleel yanked up his pants leg and extracted a knife from the sheath strapped to his leg. He plunged the blade into Nadeem’s side and yanked it out. The victim gasped in agony and shock. A vicious shove sent him into the trunk.

Khaleel rolled the man over and slit his throat from ear to ear. Then he rammed the knife into the center of Nadeem’s chest and left it there. Blood poured from the wounds and gurgled from his partner’s gaping mouth. Frantically, he grabbed the two cell phones from the man’s pocket, stuffed them in his own pocket, and ripped the knife free.

Nadeem’s lifeless eyes were fixed on him as he tossed the boxes on top of the body and slammed the trunk lid. He jerked the keys from the lock and slid into the driver’s seat in less than a minute. After zigzagging through three alleys, he parked the car behind a boarded-up house.

Nadeem’s scarf lay on the passenger seat. Khaleel used it to clean the blood from his hands and scrub the spots from his bare chest and abdomen. When he was done, he tossed the scarf and keys under the driver’s seat. Standing beside the car, he breathed slowly, deeply, to clear his head and slow his heart rate. He locked the driver’s door and then circled the car, checking each handle.

He cursed the heat with each stride as he raced back to the hideout. While he ran, he formulated his story. Reaching the house, he leaned against the wall, panting to catch his breath. A small puddle of blood on the dirty asphalt caught his eye. Panic ripped through him until reason returned. Quickly, he started his car and moved it to cover the incriminating evidence.

Opening the front door a crack, he listened. Loud snoring.
Perfect.

He slipped silently inside. Barely breathing, he tiptoed past the two sleeping men and into the back room. He needed to hurry if he was going to finish before Fateen and Masoud woke up.

He dropped to his knees beside the bomb. His heart pounded as he studied the diagram, and his hands trembled as he wedged the final piece of explosive into place. Sweat ran down his sides and back. He wiped the stinging drops from his eyes with the edge of his scarf. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Finally, all the C-4 was installed.

Khaleel jumped up and crept to the doorway to check on the men. They hadn’t moved. Pulling one of the cell phones from his pocket, he moved back to the bomb.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully opening the phone casing with a screwdriver. The instructions and pictures on the Internet had been detailed. He easily identified the mechanics for the ringer. He anchored the phone with duct tape and connected the ringer to the detonator.

He chuckled. No wonder the procedure had been so successful with IEDs in the Middle East; it was so easy it didn’t really require any engineering skill to install.

While Khaleel admired his handiwork, car doors slammed outside. He closed the bomb briefcase and latched it.

He smiled. Baheera was no longer in control.

Voices filled the front room when the four arrivals woke their sleeping brothers. As Khaleel waited for the six men to join him, he rehearsed his explanation of Nadeem’s absence, then stood up to greet them.

Rashad led the group into the back room. With his arms fully extended, he carried a small case. Fear etched lines in his face. He marched directly to Khaleel and pushed the case into his hands, obviously eager to be free of it.

“Allah’s gift,” he said gravely and stepped back.

“
Allahu Akbar
,” Khaleel murmured, staring at the ominous object. “How is Baheera?”

“It was a terrible ordeal for her. She screamed in pain many times, and there was a lot of blood. She is recovering at the hotel with Dr. Jabbar.”

His gaze jerked to Rashad’s face. “Who is Dr. Jabbar?”

“We had never met him before, but he’s very dedicated to our cause. He’s the brother who removed that,” he said, pointing a shaky finger.

Khaleel slowly unlatched the case and opened it. His eyes widened at the sight of the bloody tube.
Could I be wrong about Baheera? An infidel would not be willing to carry a tube of radioactive material inside her body to do Allah’s work.
Thoughtfully, he snapped the case shut and looked away. “When will Baheera be here?”

“The doctor said it would take several hours for her to recover, but she’ll come as soon as she can. Her orders are for all of us to wait here for her.” Rashad glanced around, noticing an absence for the first time. “Where’s Nadeem?”

Khaleel bent down and carefully placed the case next to the bomb. Apparently, he had plenty of time to install the radioactive material. He straightened and addressed the entire group. “I don’t know where Nadeem is. We needed a break and decided to load some of the boxes in his car. When I came back inside for another box, he drove off and hasn’t returned. I’m afraid he is a coward and has abandoned us.”

The other men stood speechless for a long moment.

“He seemed so devoted to our mission…and to Baheera,” Fateen finally said.

They all nodded agreement.

“I thought so too. And he may yet return. But, in the meantime, I must continue to prepare the bomb.” He looked down anxiously at the case. “I need complete focus, so you must all stay in the other room until I am finished. Understand?”

Again, they nodded in unison and headed to the front room to discuss the shocking cowardice of Nadeem.

Khaleel sighed with self-satisfaction. He knelt beside the bomb and opened the small case. He smiled at Allah’s gift, whispered a quick prayer, and began his deadly work.

Ameen lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His arm embraced Baheera, who snuggled against his side. To his great relief, she had not cried before
or
after their lovemaking this time.

He wrestled with a secret desire to tie her up in the hotel room to prevent her from completing the operation. But she would never forgive him, and he couldn’t live with that. Besides, it was illegal to interfere with a law enforcement action, and he didn’t want to end their relationship by being thrown in jail. He hated to even end the moment, but he had important business to take care of.

One of Baheera’s long, smooth legs was draped between his, her hand rested on his abs, her midnight hair fanned across his chest, and her breasts pressed against his side. Those sensations ignited another erection, which he attempted to fight off. He blew out his breath as if to deflate that other part of his anatomy. Additional pleasure would have to wait until tonight.