Bodyguard Lockdown (15 page)

“Impressive, McKnight.”

“You’ve yet to see impressive.” Booker shoved the gun barrel a little harder. “I want to know how you found me and where Trygg took Sandra. Or a bullet will go through your head and the floor will match your tent.”

* * *

“W
AKE
UP
,
Doctor Haddad.”

Sandra heard the voice, felt the thumb and finger clamp down on her chin.

She opened her eyes, forced them to focus.

Trygg smiled at her, leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on her lips.

Sandra tried to shove him away, but didn’t have any feeling in her arms. She looked up, saw the handcuffs looped through the chain. Bile slapped at the back of her throat.

“I see you remember being in this exact situation in Taer a few days ago.”

“You ordered
me to be restrained this way.” The words came out in a dull disbelief.

“I guess I’m not the father figure type, after all.” Trygg stepped back and laughed. A dry, wicked laugh that left Sandra’s insides tight, nauseated.

“You disgust me.”

“Lucky me,” Trygg added. “Otherwise I might have found myself flying out of a helicopter. Isn’t that what you did to your last lover?”

“McKnight
isn’t my lover, General. My reaction was instinctive,” Sandra lied. Hoping to distance herself from Booker. “Pitman was going to shoot McKnight at point-blank range. On your orders.”

“So you saved him, by kicking him out of a helicopter going forty miles an hour and a hundred feet in the air?”

“I don’t like the sight of blood,” she quipped. This man deserved no more of her fear, only
her contempt. “Except maybe yours.”

“Not very doctorlike, Sandra.” Trygg’s own anger surfaced.

“We both know what kind of doctor I am,” Sandra observed. “And what kind of man you are.”

“And yet...” He pointed through the tent window. “We are on the precipice of
my
success.”

The airplane sat in the flats of the Sahara. A makeshift runway, a long snake of asphalt, lay in its
path. The white hull gleamed in the sun, its netting now piled in a mound nearby.

No camouflage meant Trygg was no longer hiding. “I won’t help you kill innocent people,” Sandra insisted.

“Jim Rayo gave Lewis Pitman the cylinders,” Trygg replied. “And the doctor has had five years to study up on CIRCADIAN.”

“It would take him five lifetimes to understand my equations,” Sandra scoffed.

“He barely has one lifetime, actually,” Trygg responded dryly.

She understood then. “You’re going to kill Lewis, too, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, I have the cylinders. And there are many greedy research doctors in the world.”

Instinctively, she pulled against the handcuffs, strained away from the pole.

“You’re hurting yourself for no reason.”

Harsh red rivulets trailed
down her arms. The pain was minimal, her arms numb.

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Trygg grabbed her arm, smeared the blood with his thumb. “How would the nanites react to your organs, Doctor Haddad?”

Sandra jerked her arm away. “I’m smart enough to know you won’t get away with this, Trygg. Booker will stop you—”

“Not before I kill your family and your friends.” The glint
in his eye, the insanity of it, made her sick with fear. “You see, I don’t fear death, Doctor Haddad. I’ve been at war long enough to understand that I might end up a casualty.”

“This isn’t about the serum, is it?”

Trygg put his thumb and finger together, leaving a small space between. “It is a little bit.”

“This is about me. And revenge.”

“You betrayed me.” The evil filled
his features, slanted them into ugly fury before sliding into a wicked smile. “You and your father. I cannot let that go unpunished.”

“My father?”

“Your father was my associate. He arranged for you to work with me on the project. He helped Senator Harper obtain the supplies and equipment for Lewis Pitman.”

“No, he would not have—”

“You have no idea what your father is capable
of,” Trygg mused. “Right now, I find it more satisfying not to enlighten you. Maybe later.”

“I’ll make sure you never live that long,” Sandra promised through tight teeth. “So help me, God.”

“You forget, I pretty much am God,” Trygg reminded her. “You and Booker McKnight will never change that fact.”

“I don’t need him to stop you.”

“Brave words,” Trygg mused. “Of course, McKnight
could have died falling out of that helicopter. So you might be on your own. Not something you’re unfamiliar with, correct, Sandra?”

“He’ll be here.” The jab hit deep, like it was meant to. “It would take more than that...or you...to kill him.”

“I hope so, Doctor Haddad.” Trygg’s smile cut across his face in a vicious twist. He took out his knife and grabbed her hair. “I hope it takes
the whole Sahara Desert.”

“What do you mean?” She pulled away until he tightened her hold, made her cry out.

“I think it’s time to play a little hide-and-seek with your boyfriend.” He jerked her head forward, then dug the tip of his knife in at the base of her scalp.

Sandra bit her lip, refusing to cry out at the hot, searing pain.

“This tracking device will help.” Trygg held
up the bloody microchip. “You might be surprised to learn that I found a similar tracking device in my plane. Of course, I left it at my old camp.”

Trygg’s gaze narrowed on hers. “I don’t suppose you know who planted it there, do you?”

“Pitman,” Sandra lied. “He wants the glory. I’m guessing he made a deal with the Al Asheera.”

Trygg’s mouth twisted into a vicious grin. “Clever,
Doctor Haddad. But you and I both know Lewis doesn’t have the courage or intelligence to take me on.” He placed the microchip in his pocket. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, I’m jamming both signals.”

“Booker will come, Trygg.”

“But will he find you or the plane?” He tipped her chin, his gaze locked with hers. “My bet’s on you.”

* * *

“I
WANT
TO
know how you found us, Sabra.”
Booker stepped back and motioned with the pistol for Aaron to stand.

“So you can go after Sandra half-cocked and get yourself killed?” Aaron rubbed his jaw and got to his feet. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot of money tied up in your survival, McKnight.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Read this.” Aaron grabbed a file from the bar and tossed it at Booker’s feet. “Then
decide if you want to do this on your own.”

Booker dropped to the papers to the ground. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because it holds the truth.” Quamar stepped through the opening in the tent. “I have read the file.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Aaron demanded. “You were supposed to find Sandra’s father.”

“Omar Haddad is nowhere in the city,” Quamar answered, his tone
matching Aaron’s. “He has gone rogue.”

“Why don’t you both enlighten me, Sabra?” Booker held the gun steady. “And we’ll move this meeting right along.”

“Let us treat this as a civilized meeting.” Quamar walked over to his friend and placed his hand on the gun.

“I love Sandra as I would a sister. You are not the only one who is afraid for her safety, Booker. But you need to hear
everything,” Quamar stated. “Then you can react with anger.”

Booker forced his body to relax. He lowered the gun. “I’m listening.”

“About thirty years ago, Omar Haddad inadvertently started the chain of events we’re dealing with today.” Aaron walked over to the bar, poured himself two fingers of whiskey, then turned back. “With one bad decision. A decision he based on the death of his
eldest son, Andon.”

“The doc told me about her brother. How the Al Asheera forced Omar to watch while they killed him.”

“She told you that?” Quamar asked, surprised.

“Yes. She found out when she was ten. Why?”

“She never told me or Jarek or anyone else, for that matter,” Quamar responded. “I find that interesting, considering she does not like you, Booker.”

Aaron snorted,
but made no comment. “Andon Haddad’s death started a series of events that included the death of Jarek’s parents and Quamar’s mother.”

“And now Sandra’s life is in jeopardy.” Booker glanced at the giant. “How long have you known?”

“I read the file several hours ago,” Quamar answered. “But it makes no difference. Omar is not my enemy. The Al Asheera killed my mother. No one else was responsible.”

“Explain that to Omar.” Aaron downed the whiskey in one gulp. “Omar hired Trygg over thirty years ago to kill the head of the Al Asheera. The man responsible for Andon’s death. In return, he promised Trygg government secrets. Trygg agreed and killed the man.”

“Unfortunately, my youngest uncle, Hassan, wanted Taer’s crown. He secretly stepped in as the new Al Asheera leader,” Quamar explained.
“Once Hassan established himself as the leader, over the next several years, he arranged for the murder of Jarek’s parents. And many others loyal to the crown.”

“Omar blames himself for their deaths,” Aaron explained.

“And the government secrets Trygg gained from Omar?” Booker asked, but he already knew the answer. “What were they?”

“Everything the United States had on rapid healing
serums.”

“Super Soldiers,” Booker commented, understanding. “Omar introduced Trygg to the concept.”

“Exactly,” Aaron replied. “Which only adds your men to the list Omar feels he is responsible for.”

“At some point, after my mother, Theresa Bazan’s, death, Omar came clean to Jon Mercer.” Quamar crossed his arms. “Jon was the Director of Labyrinth at the time. He convinced Omar to
become a double agent.”

“But Trygg turned out to be a slippery bastard,” Aaron added. “Mercer couldn’t get anything on him—not without implicating Omar—until Trygg got himself placed on the research committee for CIRCADIAN several years ago. By then Trygg had maneuvered himself into a four-star general position and accumulated enough money for leverage to get what he wanted.”

“And Sandra?
Why would Omar agree to her assignment to the research?”

“When Trygg heard about Sandra’s research, he called Omar and threatened him. Omar called Mercer. Mercer convinced Omar that Sandra’s research could bring down Trygg. Omar had no choice. Not after Jon managed to keep Omar’s involvement under wraps. Mercer promised Sandra safety from Trygg by placing Kate MacAlister-D’Amato in charge
of the research. At the time, Mercer had considered bringing her on board with Labyrinth.”

“But Kate didn’t stay assigned long enough to even be briefed on the situation,” Booker guessed. “Trygg wanted her removed almost immediately.”

“To make matters worse, Omar helped Trygg cover up the death of Jim Rayo’s wife several years before.”

“It was part of the original deal,” Quamar
added. “Omar would offer his medical services, off the radar, for Trygg whenever he needed them.”

“Trygg contacted Omar and hinted at the possibility he might need him to sign another death certificate.”

“Kate’s,” Booker guessed.

“Right,” Aaron answered. “Mercer had Kate reassigned. And protected. Trygg brought in Lewis Pitman.”

“And eventually Sandra turned on Trygg,” Booker
concluded, understanding.

“Yes,” Aaron responded. “Once Trygg went to prison, Mercer found me at Leavenworth. I was to get on Trygg’s good side, join his ranks. It took me a long time, a couple months, but I managed to earn Trygg’s trust. Then one day I got jumped in the yard by a stoned-out psychopath with a homemade knife. I spent six months in the infirmary recovering. My opportunity was
lost. Trygg didn’t want anything to do with me afterward.”

“So Mercer sprung you and set you up as the Al Asheera leader?” Booker asked the question.

Aaron shrugged. “Wasn’t hard. A few years ago, King Jarek destroyed the tribe, brought down the last leader, a woman, who was trying to take over Taer’s new oil supply. Jon Mercer arranged for me to have money. From a private source. The
Al Asheera were near poverty, in hiding and desperate for help.”

“Private source?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aaron explained. “With the money, Mercer helped me get government equipment to Trygg—equipment Keith Harper couldn’t get his hands on without putting him under suspicion.”

“Aaron has been working with Senator Harper and Colonel Rayo for over the past year,” Quamar added. “As Minos.”

“How is this history going to save Sandra now?”

“I received the frequency codes to the tracking device Rayo’s men planted on Sandra.”

“Madu and Boba found us at the helicopter through the doc’s tracking device,” Booker acknowledged.

“Madu would’ve been there earlier, but the storm slowed them up. Also, we didn’t have access to a helicopter. Trygg does.”

“Where did you get
the frequency code?”

“I found Senator Harper, dead, in Omar’s private office.” Quamar sighed, then placed his hands on his hips. “And he did not die quickly. Omar tortured him.”

“Harper went there to kill Omar. The man had no combat skill, easy pickings for someone with Omar’s experience,” Aaron inserted. “He got the frequency code for Sandra’s tracking chip. Left it with Keith Harper’s
body.”

“Did Harper know that Trygg captured Sandra in the cave? That he has the cylinders?” Booker asked.

“No,” Aaron said after a moment. “Harper had a meeting scheduled with Omar last night. I warned Omar that Harper might try to kill him. And that Harper had the frequency codes. He’d given me the one to Trygg’s camp. But the frequency has been jammed. And the camp has been moved.
The men I left to watch were discovered and killed.”

“Why didn’t you just kill Trygg when you had the chance?” Booker demanded. “You’ve been dealing with him since his escape.”

“I was under orders from President Mercer. I wasn’t allowed to take him into custody until I had evidence that the cylinders were contained and not left somewhere to detonate,” Aaron answered. “I wasn’t about
to let my people get caught up in this mess, either.”

“Your people.”

“You have a problem with that statement?” Aaron demanded. “Because they are the same people your girlfriend cares for.”