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Authors: Rachel Grant

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BOOK: Covert Evidence
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It happened so fast, she didn’t even have time to blink. One moment she was zipping up her jeans, and the next she was flat on her back on the pallet, pinned under Ian, his eyes blazing with anger. “Are you working with Todros?”

C
ressida pounded against his chest, but he didn’t feel the blows in the wake of the kick to the nuts she’d delivered with nothing but words.

“Jesus, don’t you understand sarcasm? How can you possibly believe I’d work with the man who lured me out for a violent mugging? What is
wrong
with you?”

What
is
wrong with me?

How about that he wanted her more than air, and just hearing her say the name Todd caused a blinding burst of jealousy? Or maybe he’d been warped by years as a covert operative forced to keep emotions at bay? But most of all, he figured he was broken by the need to gouge a hole in his heart before she got too deeply inside, because it was the only way he could do his job.

They needed an emotional firewall if he was going to complete this mission.

He pushed up to his knees, straddling her, and rubbed a hand across his face. Cressida was right; he was an asshole. But he couldn’t change that. Wouldn’t apologize. Wouldn’t do one thing to ease the rift he’d created, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn’t be the operative he needed to be if he allowed himself to care. He couldn’t have her. He couldn’t fall in love. Not now. Not ever.

“Finish packing,” he said. “I’m going to pay respects to our hosts, then we’re leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re sure as hell not going anywhere without me. You can hate me all you want, but all roads out of Turkey go through me.”

“W
here are we going?” Cressida asked for the dozenth time in the hour since they’d left the nomad camp. She was pretty damn sick of his silence and kept asking herself why she’d stayed with him. But she knew the answer to that one: without him, she’d probably die.

“Same plan as before. We’re going to see if T. E. Lawrence really did find a Roman aqueduct in 1914.”

She glanced askance at him but stopped after only getting a glimpse of his chin. That sexy, stubbled chin that she’d nibbled on while they’d made—no.
Had sex
. Hot. Intense. But only sex. Because Ian claimed he didn’t do emotions. Well, except jealousy. That was one emotion he had no problem exhibiting. “As I’ve told you several times in the last hour, we’re going the wrong direction.”

“It was important the nomads see us head in this direction. We’ll go south after dark.”

“We’ll need to cross the Tigris at some point.”

He snorted. “I’m former Delta Force. I can get us across the river.”

Why did cocky have to look so good on him?

“So what are the odds we’ll be able to find this tunnel entrance?” he asked.

She shoved her various irritations aside. She’d made the decision to stay with him, and they had to work together. “Lawrence’s map indicated a crumbling stone house was extant over the first tunnel entrance he found, but he capped that one, and there is no way you and I could lift the capstone. He found another entrance to the south. My guess is five hundred meters, but without a scale it’s hard to be sure. If we find both, we’ll know we have the tunnel. There’s even a chance—if we had the proper tools—we could open the second entrance. If the stone house is still there, finding the tunnel will be easy. If I’m wrong, we’ll never find it in this landscape. Not without Lidar.”

“Does Todros know about the stone house?”

She caught the edge in his voice as he called Todd by his Jordanian name. His jealousy hinted at feelings he denied having. Was she deluding herself? Hearing only what she wanted to hear? She’d be better off listening to his words. Like the ones he’d said right after sliding from her body.

She shook her head to wipe the memory of his callous rejection from her mind. He’d made the rules clear. He hadn’t rejected her body. Just her heart.

“Cressida?”

Right. He’d asked a question. She’d gone to DC for Erica and Lee’s wedding at the peak of cherry blossom time—in early April. While there, she’d popped into NHHC and studied the map key again. That was when she realized Lawrence had marked the stone house ruins and deciphered his notes on the subject. But Todd had been arrested in March, before her DC trip. “No. At least I don’t think so. I didn’t zero in on the location of the house myself until over a month after he was arrested.”

“This could get rough. We’re heading toward the Syrian border, which is heavily patrolled these days, and refugees overrun some sections—but mostly that’s to the west. If Todros and Zack are looking for the tunnel, we’re heading straight for them. If I could tuck you away someplace safe, I would, but I need you to find the tunnel.”

I need you.
Words she’d waited her whole life to hear. Hell, words she’d hoped to hear from
him
. But not in the context she would have liked. He didn’t say he wanted her. He didn’t even say he liked her. No. She could lead him to the tunnel and nothing more.

She shrugged. “So it gets rough. It’s not like I have anything else to do today.” She felt his gaze but didn’t look up. She had trouble looking at him and not searching for signs he’d lied in the tent. “I know Hejan said they chose me to be the mule because Todd told them I could find the tunnel, but I don’t see what the benefit was for them. Why me?”

“The usual courier either joined ISIS or was killed by them. Hejan wasn’t certain. All I know is he hadn’t surfaced in months. You were the perfect replacement, really. Out here, they could easily kill you after they had the chip and the tunnel location. There would have been far fewer questions if you’d died here, so close to the Syrian border.”

She shivered. That part might still come true.

“I will do what I can to protect you, Cressida.” The words were softly spoken and carried emotion he couldn’t hide. “But first and foremost, my mission is to get the data to the CIA, FBI, or US Army. The intel is more important than you. More important than me. If it comes down to a choice between saving you or delivering the microchip, I
must
choose the chip. And you must do the same.”

She nodded. What was one life versus thousands? The microchip would give a terrorist group access to enough money to finance a major strike.

Was this the sort of choice Ian had to make often? Was this where his harder edges came from? Was this why his face had said one thing after they made love, but his mouth said another? Because he needed to be prepared to choose the microchip over her? If this was the sort of thing he faced on a regular basis, then his life must suck. So he’d hurt her feelings. Boo-fucking-hoo.

She kept her face forward and back stiff as she cleared her throat. “Is that what you’re afraid of? Because if so, you needn’t be. I understand. I get the stakes. I know how important I am versus the data on the microchip—which is to say, not at all.”

She studied the landscape ahead, refusing to look at the man to her right. “I know how volatile the Middle East is, and I know ISIS and al-Qaeda and probably a dozen other groups would like to bring that volatility to US soil. I would never expect you to put my safety first, not when there’s so much at stake.”

Next to her, Ian made a soft sound low in his throat.

His hand found hers; he intertwined their fingers. She came to a dead stop, forcing him to halt or let her go. He turned, and finally she met his gaze.

His jaw tightened. There was an inferno of banked emotion in his gray eyes.

All at once, he dropped her hand and resumed walking. “Don’t start getting ideas. You know the rules.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I
t was well past midnight when they stopped for the night after crossing the Tigris River, which had been easy, just as Ian had promised. Dams built in the last century meant the Tigris was no longer the raging river of the ancient world, making it easy to find a shallow, wide stretch to wade across.

They continued for another mile south of the river before finding a spot that was remote yet sheltered. “We’ll camp in the lee of the hill,” Ian said, “and refill our water bottles from the oxbow lake.”

Cressida stared at the hard ground without enthusiasm. After walking for over eight hours, she just might be tired enough to sleep on the wafer-thin camping mat with only an emergency blanket for warmth and her backpack as pillow, but she doubted it.

Ian stepped away to empty his bladder, leaving her to prepare dinner—which would be beef jerky, with trail mix for dessert. He had tablets in his pack to purify the lake water. She had to marvel at the supplies to be found in his backpack, the ten essentials, plus weaponry. She pulled out the sleeping mat and set it aside—wishing he’d thought to pack two—then rifled through the bag to find the purification tablets and thin Mylar blanket. Instead, her fingers landed on something smooth and rectangular.

The deep thudding of her heart pulsed down her arm, extending to the hand that clutched the object. She slowly pulled it out of the pack, trying to get a grip on her emotions, unsure what she was feeling. Hope? Fear? Anger?

Her breath caught when the dim moonlight glinted off the flat screen.

Ian has a cell phone.

Anger. Definitely anger.

Anger at him, but also at herself, because really,
of course
he had a phone. Stupid of her not to realize that days ago. One may have blown up, and he may have tossed another out the window, but a Boy Scout who had cash, food, the ten essentials, and a stockpile of weapons would certainly have another phone.

She could have called Trina days ago, when they were holed up in Siirt. Trina would have gotten Keith to send a Raptor team in to extract them. Raptor operatives wouldn’t shoot to kill, not with Cressida standing in front of Ian, blocking the shot.

She would be back in the US by now.
Safe
. Not on the run in a country where she didn’t speak the language. Not stuck with a heartless spy who’d helped get her into this situation but hadn’t once let her make a decision about how to get out of it.

She hit the power button, and the screen lit. They were probably out of range now, but still, she could hope. Her heart pounded as she waited for the antenna bars to appear. But none came.

She turned off the phone. Tomorrow, when they neared the aqueduct, they’d pass within a mile of a decent-size village. Odds were there’d be an antenna.

“We’ve been out of antenna range since we left Rajab’s house.”

Cressida startled, causing the phone to pop out of her hands. It bobbled in the air, but she caught it. She shuddered, imagining missing and watching their salvation hit a rock and shattering. She turned to glare at Ian. “You complete and utter bastard!” Her eyes burned with the intensity of her outrage. “I could have gotten us out of Turkey before we even went to Rajab’s if you’d let me use the phone.”

“I couldn’t let you call your friend before I was burned, because I wasn’t certain Keith Hatcher would confirm my Raptor credentials. And after… I couldn’t trust you wouldn’t turn me in.”

BOOK: Covert Evidence
5.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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