Final Vow (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bridget followed Mo down the steps of the
plane and was met by Agent Woodbury, his men, and Bridget's father. Barking broke out and she grinned as she saw her father let go of Marko’s leash.

“Marko
,” she cried as her dog leapt into her arms and covered her face with kisses.

Mo raised a brow and whispered, “What is your dog doing here? I thought he was with your parents.”

Bridget smiled as she stood up and saw her father in his uniform striding toward her. “Daddy!”

“Daddy?” Mo said in astonishment. “Does Ahmed know?”

“I don’t think so,” Bridget said with a smile before taking a couple steps forward and being enveloped in a bear hug.

“Pumpkin
.” Her father chuckled.

“Pumpkin?” Brid
get heard Mo mumble behind her.

“Daddy, I’d like you to meet His Royal Highness Prince Mohtadi Ali Rahman. Mo, this is my father, General Richard Ward
. He’s the chief of staff of the Army here in D.C.,” Bridget said with a grin at Mo’s surprised face.

“Ahmed is really going to wish he’d done the background check on you,” Mo whispered to her before he held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet Bridget’s father. She’s a wonderful woman.”

“Yes, she is. Now tell me about Ahmed.”

“Dad
.”

Mo s
miled quickly, but it faded as he transformed into the prince he needed to be. “After you help me save my country, then I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Rahmi is an ally to the United States. What can we do to help?”

“I need to talk to the president as soon as possible,” Mo stated instead of asking.

“And I need to get on a military flight to Rahmi,” Bridget added. Her voi
ce left no room for argument.

“We have a cargo jet heading with humanitarian supplies to
Africa. You can deadhead on that flight and jump into Rahmi. Or you can do the smart thing and wait for His Royal Highness to get approval for troops and go with them.”

Bridget just looked at him. “My wife
gives that same look,” Mo said with sympathy.

“Mine as well.” Her father shook his head and then called out. “Woodbury, take my daughter to Andrews. The pilot is expecting you. Your Highness,
please come with me. The president is expecting you.”

Her father grabbed her up into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

“Tell Ahmed and my father help is coming. Take care of him,” Mo said as he pla
ced a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Right this wa
y, Miss Ward,” Woodbury said with a slight look of shock on his face.

Bridget smiled. Maybe being who she was born to be wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d proven herself
repeatedly and she really didn’t feel the need to anymore. “Thank you.”

Woodbury shook his head, “Man, I know a lot of guys
who are going to be really embarrassed about the things they said about you. And to you."

“Funny. I don
’t feel embarrassed at all for the things I said about them.”

* * *

Mo sat next to General Ward as the SUV raced through the streets of Washington, D.C., heading for the White House. All he could think of was the night before Ahmed was married all those years ago. The way a scared boy had accepted his duty. The way his best friend had told Mo it would be okay, that he would make this marriage work.

Then flashbacks of Ahmed in the hospital battling for life entered his mind. The sleepless nights Mo
spent next to the bed begging his one and only friend to please wake up. When he finally did, he wasn’t the same. It didn’t mean Mo loved him any less; it just meant he was a shadow of the man he used to be. What was being back in Rahmi now doing to him? What was it doing to his whole family? He didn’t know if the country had actually been attacked or if his family was still alive.

As they pulled through the iron gates of the White House
, Mo decided he would do whatever it took to seal this deal for aid. He was met by multiple men in dark suits as he stepped out of the SUV. Some were Secret Service, some were aides to the president, but they were all shooting off question after question as his own security force stepped in closer to protect him.

With a wave of
Mo's hand, his security stepped back with the exception of one man who leaned forward and whispered, “Package has been delivered safe and sound.”

Mo didn’t acknowledge his man as they walked through the White House to the Oval Office.
Dani and his boys were safe. Now he could really focus on saving his country.

“Presi
dent Nelson, it’s so nice to see you again,” Mo said with a bow of his head.

“The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. Now General Ward told me this was a matter of urgency so I hope you don’t mind
that I brought my advisors in order to streamline anything we need,” she said with a gesture of her hand to the numerous men and women lining the room.

“Of course. Gentlemen. Ladies.” Mo nodded to the group as he sat down in the chair next to the President of the United State
s and began to plead his case.

* * *

Ahmed and Jamal flanked the king, who was dressed in desert camouflage and armed with a knife and gun that Jamal had trained him to use over the years. They made their way along the palace grounds showing the king the security they had in place. They were a small country and it was only now Ahmed realized it had been a miracle they hadn’t been overthrown before.

“It has to be Sarif, m
y good-for-nothing cousin.” The king slammed his fist into his hand and took the stairs, where Fatima was waiting stoically.

“What is the news?” s
he asked.

“We
received radio confirmation that fishing boats have been moving toward our shores. I think they are carrying rebels sent from Sarif, but I have no direct evidence. Just a hunch,” Jamal told her.

“What did
the minister tell you, Ahmed?” she asked pointedly. Ahmed might have smiled if the situation wasn’t so bad. Fatima had been quiet and only worked behind the scenes before. But after she started spending time with Dani and the new Ameera, Fatima had become more outspoken. Surprisingly, the king seemed to appreciate the support and was giving his wife more and more duties.

“It’s strange,” Ahmed started. “He just seemed relieved
that I was there. He didn’t say anything except that he was sorry. Although, he kept glancing at one of his guards. I think that guard was there to make sure the minister didn’t say anything else.”

“Very strange. I do
n’t like it.”

“I didn’t either, wife. I stopped
to talk to him and asked him to give me a tour of solitary. I had Jamal shove the guard in a cell and lock the door. If he was working with someone, then he won’t be able to communicate with him now. Ahmed is heading back to talk with him now.”

Fa
tima smiled. “Very good. Let us know what you learn.”

Ahmed bowed his head
respectfully and headed back to the prison. He made his way down the brown-tiled floor to the interview room holding the oil minister. “I’d like to have a word with the minister alone,” Ahmed said as he sat down. The two armed guards walked out of the room and closed the door.

“Where is my guard?” t
he older man asked in a shaky voice.

“In solitary. He i
s working for Sarif, isn’t he?”

“What?” The man looked wildly around as
if someone might be listening.

“We’re alone and please save us the time of pretending you don’t know anything,” Ahmed said as his patience wore thin.

What he wasn’t expecting was the minister to break down in tears. “I am so very sorry. It wasn’t Sarif, but his man Sergei. They have my family.”

“Sergei is back with Sarif, of course
. But why were you to ask for me?”

“Sergei wanted you here. He’s coming to kill you during the rebellion. Please, save my family
. They were taken on a fishing boat. They . . .”

Ahmed cut him off as he stoo
d up. Sergei was here. “I can’t promise, but I will look for them after we secure Rahmi. What else do you know?”

“Nothing, that’s all I was able to overhear. Please
. . .”

Ahmed didn’t wait to hear the rest. He hurried from the room and ran across the palace grounds.
Jamal was with the king and queen as they rallied their troops against the impending rebellion.

“It’s Sarif. He’s leading the rebellion,” Ahmed said as soon as he reached them. “Come, we need to get you
to safety.” Ahmed reached for the queen’s arm as the ground shook and the world crumbled around them.

* * *

Bridget checked the straps of the harness that held Marko tight against her body. He was completely relaxed as he waited for the jump. “Two minutes,” the pilot’s voice rang out in her headset. The cargo ramp of the plane slowly opened. Bridget stood up with Marko in her arms and walked closer to the ramp.

She looked out and saw
the blue ocean. She’d be able to see Rahmi in less than a minute. She knew jumping into the palace would be risky, so she was aiming for the village surrounding the palace instead. Rahmi came into sight inch by inch. The bright blue of the ocean mixed with the sandy coastline full of boats. When the palace finally came into view, Bridget couldn’t hide her surprise as black smoke swirled upward.

“Are
you sure you want to jump into this?”

“I’m sure,” she answered as she secured her weapons and prepared to jump from thirteen thousand feet.

“Then get ready.”

Bridget took a breath and moved closer to the end of the ramp. The wind whipped her cheeks and pushed a
t her, yet Marko stayed as relaxed as if he were hanging his head out the car window.

“Jump!”

Bridget held Marko tight against her and was freefalling toward Rahmi at one hundred twenty miles per hour. Marko was wrapped tight against her body as they fell almost nine thousand feet before she pulled the parachute cord. As she grew closer to landing in the village surrounding the palace, Bridget just prayed Ahmed would still be alive. She could see multiple columns of smoke across the beautiful island. Buildings had crumbled, pipelines had been damaged, towers were down, and oil was burning. Panicked people ran around the streets not knowing if more explosions were coming.

Marko stayed relaxed in his harness as they approached the ground. With a thud, her feet hit the ground
at a run. Marko began barking as people screamed at them. Bridget detached the parachute and unhooked Marko from his harness before she peeled the goggles from her face.

She ignored the people staring at her in fear and
swung her gun around into position. She found the palace and looked to see which streets she needed to take to get there. “Let’s go,” she said to Marko as she took off at a jog in the direction of the palace.

Ahmed tucked Fatima’s head under his arms as a piece of stone fell from the palace and hit his shoulder. The multiple blasts had rocked the palace, sending decorative pieces of stone falling on them. When the rumbling stopped, he raised his head to see Jamal helping the king up.

“I am safe, Ahmed,” Fatima’s voice
said from where she was buried beneath his body. He stood up and pulled his queen to her feet.

“You two need
to get to the safe room. Now,” Jamal ordered. Fatima nodded, but the king shook his head.

“My wife, go. Please. But this is my cousin and I will take care of him.”

“Your Highness, I can’t work with you here. I need to make sure you are safe in order to be able to defend your crown,” Jamal pleaded as one of his guards ushered Fatima into the palace.

“No. I am king and I will fight with
my men. I have plenty of heirs now, so do not worry about the crown. I must find Sarif—if that coward even had enough guts to come himself.”

Ahmed s
aw the rebels pouring in a massive hole in the wall toward the coastline. He quickly shoved the king behind him. “Fine, just stay behind us. Come, brother.”

Jamal stood shoulder
to shoulder with Ahmed. He wasn’t the same boy he was the last time Sarif tried this. And knowing Sergei was leading this charge angered him so much that he was having trouble controlling his beast within. This moment was what he’d spent the last eighteen years preparing for.

“Colonel
,” Jamal yelled. “Flank from the east. You . . . take your team from the west.”

“What are we going to do?”
the king asked as he peeked over their shoulders.

Ahmed looked at his brother and they both smiled. “Go right
up the middle,” Ahmed answered.

Ahmed and Jamal strode into the crowd of rebels while unloading their firearms. The Rahmi soldiers had joined the fight on all sides, forming an effective barricade to the palace. They were systematically pushing the rebels into a tight group close to the wall and away from the palace. Smaller skirmishes had broken out on all sides of the palace, but Jamal’s troops were doing their job and suppressing them.