Freefall (7 page)

“Isn't Dagan the one who tried to overthrow the government three years ago?”

Brent nodded. “We have to assume they have troops there, but we can avoid the main thoroughfares.”

“Sounds like a better bet than risking dehydration. And like you said, no one realizes we're even here,” Amy pointed out. “How far is it to the village?”

“About fifteen miles. We can make it before morning,” Brent said as he folded up his map once more.

“Let's go then.” Amy stood up, preparing for the next workout. Thankfully, her shoes were holding up so far except for a little hole in the toe where she'd stubbed it on a sharp rock a couple of miles back.

Brent wasn't moving quite as fast as he had the first two nights, but his stride was long and he didn't appear to be struggling. The minutes passed by in silence. Amy recognized that he had clicked back into work mode and his senses were working overtime as he scanned the area for any perceivable threats.

The trees in the distance told her they were getting close to the river. She could even smell the water from almost a mile away. Brent slowed down and took her hand in his for a moment. “If anyone sees us, just keep your eyes on the ground. Let me handle it, okay?”

Amy nodded, oddly disappointed when he released her hand. Her mind turned to Jared, the man she had briefly considered marrying. She expected the next time she saw him he would pull the I-told-you-so routine. Repeatedly he had told her that she shouldn't take this assignment, that it was too dangerous. Little did he know that she had taken the job as much to get away from him as to satisfy her own sense of adventure.

She could admit now that she also needed to put some distance between her and her friends back home for a while. After she broke things off with Jared, she had watched many of them move into marriage while she remained firmly in single adulthood.

Maybe that was why she had been so eager to get out on her own. She didn't want to be part of the singles scene, and the few times she had attended the singles ward at home she had felt like everyone expected she was just there to find a husband. She glanced over at Brent and wondered if he had the same problem. Perhaps he just wasn't interested in a relationship at this point in his life. His life was certainly exciting enough without adding any other elements to it.

Still lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed Brent slow his pace. He reached out and touched her shoulder to get her attention as he approached the riverbank. He then signaled for her to be quiet as they moved slowly forward.

She expected that he would find a spot to leave her so that he could scout out the village, but instead he motioned for her to follow behind him. The village was primitive, made of simple huts. Even though the sun was now visible, they couldn't see any sign of life in the village except for some livestock near the river. A goat stood on the bank drinking water and a few chickens were pecking the ground outside the nearest hut. Three horses were grazing just beyond it.

The dock that gave the village access to the river was void of boats, an oddity in itself. From where they stood, sheltered by a few trees, Amy could see a watchtower that was twice as tall as the huts surrounding it, but it too appeared empty.

Brent studied the village for several minutes before finally turning to Amy. He signaled for her to be quiet and then drew his gun and motioned for her to follow him. He moved to the first hut, peered inside, and then led the way to the next one. Slowly, meticulously, he checked out each of the huts, over twenty of them, before moving to the watchtower in the center of the village.

“Stay here,” Brent whispered before starting up the ladder. He reached the top, staying low so that he couldn't be seen by anyone in the distance. With his binoculars he scrutinized the countryside before descending the ladder to where Amy was waiting.

“Did you see anything?”

Brent nodded. “There are signs of a battle in the town a couple of miles upriver. The villagers must have deserted their homes and fled for safety.”

“They can't have been gone long since they still have animals grazing here.”

“The boats are all gone, but those horses look domesticated.” Brent stared down at her a moment. “You can ride a horse, can't you?”

“Yeah, I can ride.” Amy looked around the eerily quiet village. “Are we staying here for the day?”

“Actually, if you're up for it, I'd rather start for the coast. If anyone comes along today, those horses will be long gone before we would be able to set out tonight.”

“Isn't that pretty risky?” Amy asked hesitantly.

“I think it's riskier to stay here.” Brent pushed open the door to the hut where he had seen some of the locals' clothing left behind. “If it was safe, the villagers would have already returned.”

Amy took the robe Brent handed her. “I don't suppose you saw any bridles anywhere.”

“There's some rope beneath the watchtower.” Brent moved to look beneath the two-story platform. Suddenly he jumped back and aimed his weapon at the dark space in the corner.

Instinctively, Amy moved back. Fumbling, she retrieved the pistol from her bag just as Brent kicked another weapon out into the dirt in front of her. She didn't know much about weapons but she recognized the gun in front of her. It was the same kind her captors had used.

A moment later, Brent pulled a motionless man out from beneath the tower. He wasn't dressed like a local but instead wore some kind of uniform.

“Is he—?” Amy left her question dangling as Brent checked the man's pockets.

“Yeah, he's dead, but he hasn't been for long.” Brent stared down at the face for a moment. Surprise crossed his face, followed by disbelief. “I think this is Rashidi Re. He's Namir Dagan's chief military advisor.”

“What would he be doing here?”

Brent shrugged. “He probably tried to escape the battle and got shot in the process.” He checked the man's pockets, tossing various items onto the ground: a handful of coins, a torn photograph, a cigarette lighter. The last item he fished out was a Palm Pilot. Brent studied it for a minute, punching various buttons. He let out a sigh when his first attempt to bypass the security failed.

Amy averted her gaze from the man sprawled on the ground, instead looking at Brent. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to bypass the security codes,” he said. “My Arabic is a little rusty. This may take a few minutes.”

“You speak Arabic?”

“Enough to get by.” Brent glanced up long enough to see her confusion. “All SEALs have to learn at least one foreign language, but the more we know the easier it is to do our job.”

With a shrug, Brent turned his attention back to the computer. He continued to punch buttons as the sun rose higher in the sky. Finally, he hacked his way through the computer's security systems. His eyes widened as he scanned through emails and notes.

Amy felt Brent's tension level rise. “What's wrong?”

“I'm not sure.” Brent continued reading. “There are schematics and photos in this email. It looks like an assassination attempt, but I can't tell who or where.” He glanced down at his watch to check the date and then scrolled through to where a date was listed along with the photo of a building. “Whatever is going on is supposed to happen two days from now.”

“Can I see?” Amy let him come to her rather than moving closer to the body. She looked at the building photograph and recognized it immediately. “That's a picture of the hotel in Cairo I stayed at on my way here.”

“Are you sure?”

Amy nodded. “It was only a few weeks ago. In fact, that's probably where the U.S. embassy staff was evacuated to until it's safe to return to this country again.” She turned to look at him. “Do you think the ambassador could be the target?”

“Not the ambassador. The DCI.”

“What?”

“The Director of Central Intelligence was supposed to be coming here for a meeting with the ambassador. The hostage situation might have been part of a bigger plan to get the ambassador out of the country. Here in Abolstan the DCI would have been invisible, arriving by helicopter at the embassy and leaving the same way.” He shook his head, turning back to retrieve the rope he had started to get a few minutes earlier. “I don't know why the DCI was coming, but it must have been pretty important for him to decide to come here instead of just having the ambassador come to Washington.”

“Oh my gosh.” Amy dropped onto the ground, tears swimming in her eyes.

Brent leaned down beside her, tentatively laying a hand on her shoulder. “What?”

“When I told my dad I was taking the assignment here, he just about came unglued. One of the things he said was that Abolstan has been trying to develop biological weapons. The day we were taken hostage, the intelligence officers and the ambassador were in meetings all day. Something big was going on, but no one knew what. When I was dropping some papers off for the ambassador at his office, I heard one of the intelligence officers tell him that there was no way to get the proof to Washington safely.”

“You think they had proof that Abolstan was developing biological weapons?” Brent's eyes widened.

Amy nodded and took a deep breath. “That's not all. The ambassador had a map on his desk of the Washington DC subway system.”

“Right before we shipped out, the alert status in DC went up to red. That might be why.” Brent shook his head.

“If someone released a biological weapon in DC . . .” Amy trailed off. “I can't even imagine what kind of chaos that would cause.”

“Especially if someone managed to assassinate the DCI right before a terrorist attack. It would be cutting off the right arm of the intelligence community.” Brent nodded toward the river. “We've got to go catch those horses, and then we have to find a way to get a message out.”

“How are we going to do that?” Amy asked skeptically.

“We have to get to the port city tonight,” Brent decided. “An aircraft or a boat would have some kind of communication device we can use.” He dropped the Palm Pilot into one of the pockets of his combat vest and reached out his hand to pull Amy to her feet.

“Let's go then.”

“Why haven't we heard anything?” Charlie raked his fingers through his hair.

“Charlie, any number of things could have happened to slow them down,” CJ told him, knowing from experience just how true her words were.

“I hate not being able to do something.” He turned to face CJ, who was calmly rocking her little girl to sleep. “Do you realize I'm always the one in this position?”

“What do you mean?” She ran a hand over her daughter's soft curls before looking up at her brother-in-law.

“The two times you disappeared, I got a message that something was wrong and then all I could do was wait around for the phone call.” Charlie leaned against the arm of the sofa. “Now here I am again, waiting for a phone call.”

“Would you rather be the person we were all worrying about?”

“I don't know.” He glanced over at the television, where the news was on mute. The other hostages were recovering, and already the situation that had taken his sister from him was old news. No one even knew that she was still caught somewhere behind enemy lines. “I just know I'm sick of waiting.”

“That makes two of us,” CJ agreed. She shifted the toddler in her lap, hoping she could put her down for the night. “As strange as it sounds, maybe we should get out of the house tomorrow and do something.”

“Wake me up when you go swim in the morning,” Charlie told her as she stood up. “Maybe I'll go pump some iron and see if I can work out some of this frustration.”

“It can't hurt.”

* * *

Brent followed Amy along the riverside. After circling around an occupied village a few miles back, he had her take the lead in case anyone followed after them. So far they had made good use of the daylight hours, but in front of him he could see Amy beginning to tire. She rolled her shoulders as though that might erase the aches and pains from riding for the past eleven hours. He didn't have the heart to break it to her that they still had at least six more hours to go, most of which they would have to travel at night.

Their horses were both Arabians, and while they were clearly domesticated, they were also high-strung. Without the aid of bridles, Brent and Amy had struggled to keep their horses in check during the first several miles. Now that the horses were tiring, they had settled down and were much more cooperative.

Though they could have made better time by riding along the nearby road, they had stayed in the trees by the riverbank, partially to remain out of sight and partially to help them battle the desert heat. They had already stopped once midday and had taken the opportunity to go for a quick swim to cool themselves down. Their clothes had dried within an hour, but it had helped them survive the worst of the heat.

As they approached a sandy spot along the riverbank, Brent rode up beside Amy. “Let's stop for a few minutes and water the horses.”

Amy nodded in agreement and guided her horse to the river. She dismounted, and her legs nearly buckled underneath her when her feet hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” Brent slid off of his own horse, his legs not in much better shape than Amy's, but still he moved to her side.

“I'm fine. Just a bit tired.” She took a tentative step forward, and her knee gave way. Before she could regain her balance, Brent caught her by the waist.

“You need to sit down,” he said, but instead of moving he just stood there staring down at her. The weariness in his own body dissipated as he felt the warmth of emotions rush through him. Amy's hair was hidden beneath the headpiece she wore, and her robe was at least a size too big, nearly managing to hide her feminine curves. Yet as he looked down into her piercing blue eyes, he knew he would never mistake her for a man, even from a distance.