Dana Marton - Broslin Creek 05 - Broslin Bride (24 page)

Brent gave him a dispassionate look. “We’ve seen plenty of battlefield action. I’m sure we’ll see more. We take each assignment as they come.”

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

Gabe had done three consecutive tours of duty in the Afghan mountains before he’d joined the FBI. Brent knew all of that. They’d done a comprehensive background check before they hired him. Gabe, on the other hand, had been told very little about the team’s previous missions.

“Both,” Brent said now.

“Army?”

“Started out as an army medic, but switched to private security pretty quickly. Pays a hell of a lot better than the government.”

Gabe understood that difference only too well. When his brother-in-law had died in a crash, leaving his sister with three kids, he got out of the army and in with the FBI so he’d be close enough to help. Then Penny, his youngest niece, had been diagnosed with autism. Promising treatment was available, but cost the heavens. His sister had never stood a chance on her librarian’s salary.

All his money had been going to North Village already, and he couldn’t abandon that project. Brent had come around, wanting to recruit him, at the exact right time.

Gabe left the man and stepped out into the hallway.

Troy stood bent over in front of his door, wiggling the key in the lock. “Wonder if people here ever heard of WD-40.”

He was the only other ex-FBI guy on the team, a pretty decent man. Scars from an explosion crisscrossed his face.

“So how do you like it so far?” His voice sounded raspy, his vocal cords having been damaged in the same explosion.

“Not a big fan of making war on civilians. I think Brent should rethink a couple of things,” Gabe replied honestly.

“This is the first op I’ve been on with the team where we have an American target. Given a choice, I prefer fighting foreign terrorists.”

Gabe nodded. “I’m looking forward to this op being over.” Hurry up, buddy. The man stood right in line with his door and would get a full view of Jasmine if Gabe opened it.

“Anyone waiting for you back home?”

He shook his head, pretty sure Troy meant a girlfriend and not his sister and nieces. He’d never done well with long term relationships. “How do you expect someone to put up with what we do? Right?”

“Takes a special woman,” Troy told him, sadness creeping into his voice. “One in a million.” His key turned at last and he disappeared into his room.

Gabe unlocked his own door and pushed inside, strode straight to the bed where Jasmine was sleeping like this was the last chance she was ever going to get.

She had the thickest, longest lashes he’d ever seen, flawless skin and lips that were sure to come back in his dreams. But now was not the time to linger and appreciate her beauty.

“Jasmine.” He bent low to whisper. “Wake up. We have to get going.”

Her eyes fluttered, but didn’t open all the way.

He shook her gently.

She didn’t even stir.

“Jasmine?” He pulled her into a sitting position. “You have to take me to Jake. Is your sister with him?”

She blinked one eye open.

Awake at last. He let her go.

She fell back onto the sheets.

He pulled her up again. “You have to wake up. Brent knows where your brother is.”

“You drugged me.” She tried to punch him in the face, but missed and fell into his arms. Pulled back. “Help me to the bathroom. I need to splash some cold water on my face.”

He dragged her over to the sink and leaned her against it, turned on the tap then went back to his desk. Finding out whether Brent was involved in something questionable wouldn’t hurt.

Gabe’s hand fisted. He made a point to relax it.

He’d just started with XO-ST. One of the smallest private security firms out there, they only had two dozen teams, each working separately under the supervision of someone like Brent on whatever contract came their way. Not easy work, but Gabe could do what they needed. He was good at this. And he needed the money.

He opened his laptop and typed in a URL, then his password when the small window appeared in the middle of his screen. The site that popped up held his digital tool chest from his FBI days. He downloaded one of the programs and, with its help, his screen was duplicating Brent’s in another minute.

He could see everything the man was doing. He could also take control and open files on his own, but Brent would see that. The mouse pointer would freeze on the screen while his laptop took Gabe’s commands. So Gabe simply watched.

And saw nothing terribly helpful. The man surfed porn sites for a few minutes before turning the Internet off. Then the screen stopped changing.

Maybe he went to sleep to rest up for the takeover. Or was taking a shower. Or just gone to the bathroom. What were the chances that he was sitting in front of the laptop, staring at the blank screen?

Gabe took control and opened the file directory.

Not as useful as he had hoped. Instead of names, the files were simply numbered. Not much he could guess from that. The first held nothing but dates, another listing a long string of numbers. The next held a detailed satellite map of a small village, showing every street, every house.

The name on the bottom was written in farsi, but he could piece it together after a minute.
Lahedeh.
Afghanistan.
 

“I don’t know what Jake discovered. All I know is that he discovered it in Lahedeh,” Jasmine had told him earlier.

A cold feeling spread in his stomach. He cut the link. Couldn’t risk keeping it open too long and getting caught.

Lahedeh could be the connection between Brent and Tekla.

Or it could be a coincidence.

He needed to find out what was going on, because like it or not, he was up to his neck in this mess now. He glanced at his watch as he pushed to his feet.

“Ready?” He stepped to the bathroom door and pushed it open.

Jasmine sat on the closed toilet lid, sleeping, her head resting on the edge of the sink. She looked incredibly young and utterly worn out, but he couldn’t give her a break. They needed to leave.

He turned off the tap, then pulled her up. “Is your sister in Venice? Is she with your brother?”

She opened her eyes. “No.” Swayed a little.

“This is not a good time to play games with me. Are your sister and your aunt here?”

She pressed her lips closed.

Which probably meant, yes. He didn’t know much about the aunt, but Tekla’s younger sister would be about high school age. A kid.

Jasmine collapsed softly against him and went back to sleep.

Dammit.
Of course, he had only himself to blame for her state.
 

He scooped her up and stuck her in the shower, turned on the water. Her eyes popped open as she sputtered, fighting to get out while he tried to keep her in, a task about as easy as bathing a cat. And as hazardous to his health.

He let her out when she looked like she was fully awake and when he thought he might lose an eye if he didn’t.

“Jasmine? Jasmine, honey.” He tried to make nice. “Where is your brother hiding?”

She was awake, but uncooperative. She simply glared at him. She didn’t look ready to forgive the tying down and the drugging. Or the forced waking.

Fine. He could get started without her. They were going to Soremo. And between here and there, he
would
get her talking.
 

Chapter Five

Despite his best efforts, she slept through the
vaporetto
ride, curled against him. At least she’d stayed awake earlier long enough to take off her own soggy bra and panties and put on the pair of boxer shorts he’d given her and one of his T-shirts. Then she’d passed out again, leaving the rest to him. Gabe had to tie on the sweatpants with a curtain tie. His sweatshirt just about swallowed her.
 

He helped her off the waterbus at the last stop.

“Left or right?” he asked, turning her face toward the cool breeze that came off the water.

She opened her eyes and looked around. “Where are we?”

Not exactly progress.

Her knees were folding. He picked her up into his arms. People smiled at them, probably thinking he was being romantic.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving you and your family,” he said under his breath, keeping a smile on his face for the onlookers.

“Mandy, has a fever.”

The younger sister. “We’ll take care of it,” he promised.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You’re just going to have to make up your mind about it, honey. I’m here to help.”

“You tied me up and drugged me.”

“To keep you safe.”

She managed to keep her eyes open long enough to pin him with a sharp look. “How do I know you’re not a murderous bastard like the others?”

He said nothing. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t.

She interpreted his silence correctly. “Don’t you have a conscience?”

“I do.”

She blinked. “Tell me one bad thing you regret doing.”

“We’re not getting into that right now. We don’t have time for this.”

“One thing,” she demanded.

Fine. Okay.
 

“I once led a team to eradicate a makeshift weapons factory in the Afghan mountains. Small place with an unpronounceable name. We called it North Village. Led the charge, shot the place to hell. We killed most everyone inside this one industrial-looking building. They were classified as enemy combatants in the attack order.”

He drew a slow breath. “They weren’t. The village was starting some grassroots truck part repair business. Most of the men worked there. Now the village is nothing but orphans and widows.”

He paused. “So no, I’m not a good person. But I no longer follow orders blindly either. And no more innocent people are going to get killed on my watch if I can help it.”

She looked into his eyes for the longest time, doubts and desperation mixing in her Bourbon gaze. Then she nodded to the right. “That way.”

The houses they passed were progressively worse and worse. They reached a ramshackle building at last and she insisted on being put down. She slipped inside through a broken window. He followed her in, the sight of garbage and scurrying rats getting to him for a second. Nobody should have to live in a place like this.

“Up there.” She nodded toward a crumbling staircase.

“I’ll go. Why don’t you stay down here? Rest a little.”

“I can handle it.”

He did believe that. She’d managed to escape from the roof. And, despite the inherent dangers, she had managed to get his attention and bring him here to help.

“So up the stairs, huh?” He took in the dubious structure with a healthy dose of reservations. “Are you sure?”

She stumbled forward without hesitation, and he followed a few steps behind her, far enough so their combined weight wouldn’t bring down the stairs, but close enough so he could catch her if she fell back. She didn’t. She reached the top and hurried down a dark hallway.

She stopped in front of the last door. “It’s me. I’m bringing someone. Don’t shoot.”

He went for his weapon but stopped halfway. The sight of a gun might provoke Tekla. Better leave his gun stashed under his shirt, Gabe decided. But he kept his hand ready to draw, not liking in the least that Jasmine stood between him and the man inside.

He glanced at his watch. They still had time before Brent would be here with the teams. Time to convince Tekla to send his family home to safety and give himself up, so nobody would have to die today. If he also wanted to tell Gabe what in hell his connection was to Brent, that would be icing on the cake.

“Okay, we’re coming in,” Jasmine called out her last warning. But when she pushed the door open, they found the cavernous, ramshackle room empty.

Chapter Six

Gabe looked closer at a suspicious lump of blanket on the floor among the stacks of wood, plastic crates and other rubble. The blanket rose and fell slightly then rose again as whoever hid under it breathed.
Ambush
, he thought, and drew his weapon.
 

At the same time, Tekla stepped from a column to the side, holding a gun in his left hand. A homemade cast covered the right one. His eyes narrow slits, the man leaned his back against the wall behind him, barely resembling the charismatic hotshot he’d once been.

His once chiseled cheeks were now sunk in. He looked twenty years older and twenty pounds lighter than the last time they’d met.

And a lot less friendlier. “What’s wrong with my sister?”

“I’m fine.” Jasmine stepped forward, swaying on her feet, which pretty much undermined her words.

“Where are her clothes?” Tekla demanded, then went on without waiting for an answer. “Come over here and get behind me,” he ordered Jasmine. “What did he do to you?”

Her response came after a long, uncomfortable moment of hesitation. “He drugged me a little. It’s okay. He’s here to help.” She rubbed her forehead. “I think,” she added.

Way to go with the endorsement.

Tekla had killed three innocent men, Americans. He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot now when his family was in danger and he was cornered. The situation had top potential for going real bad real fast, so Gabe held still. No sense in giving provocation if he could help it.

“Brent and his men are coming,” Jasmine said with exquisite timing.

Jake swore as he took the safety off his gun.

“I know about Lahedeh,” Gabe said the only thing he could think of to defuse the tension.

Tekla froze, a look of surprise replacing the fierce concentration on his face. “You do?”

“I know Brent was there.” He bluffed.

“Brent who?”

Oh, hell. Tekla had been to Lahedeh. Brent had been to Lahedeh. That
had
to be the connection between the two.
 

This op definitely meant something personal to Brent. He wanted Tekla dead too badly. And he didn’t care who died with the target. Sometimes he sounded as if he
wanted
the whole family to be eliminated.