Ethan was fighting for his life. There were two of them, he’d spotted them instantly when he’d entered the large stadium. His eyes had scanned not the stage, where Ann was focused, but instead the roof and upper bleachers of the large stadium. It had taken him only a few seconds to see the dark spot hovering in a private booth area. The nose of the rifle stuck out from the box. With his mind totally focused on getting there quickly, he lost track of Ann. He knew she’d make it to her father and hoped to God she had enough sense to stay down. When he reached the opening to the booth, he threw himself in and charged the man, covered in darkness. He didn’t see the second man come out of theshadows until the knife was already on a downward arch.Trying to block it, he felt the blade hit his rib cage, tearing his shirt and the skin below. Turning, he connected a solid blow to the skinny man’s nose, shattering it and sending blood splattering all over both of them. Paul, the senator’s assis
Ethan watched Ann fluff his pillows for what seemed like the hundredth time. He smiled, enjoying her pampering him. He knew she was just concerned about him and he enjoyed every minute of it. It had been a close one. So close he’d made a decision, one he had yet to talk to her about. There had hardly been a time when they were alone.When he’d woken in the ICU, she was there and so were a half dozen nurses. Then when he’d come to again, he’d been in a private room with his parents hovering over him. It had been nice having them there, but he wished for some time alone with Ann.Then she had left for the evening, promising she’d be back first thing in the morning. She had walked in five minutes after his parents and Roberta had. Now her family was there, chatting and acting like he was a hero.Blake was there as well. The kid had grown tall, but still looked the same. Ethan could tell he was glad he was okay, even if he played it cool. Javan had even stopped by at one point before headi
The noise of the growing mob outside swelled louder. A muted roar made by hundreds of angry voices chanting one of the only Urdu phrases he knew.Death to America.Hunter Phillips checked his weapon one last time and turned in a crouch to face the six other men now trapped with him in the burning Interior Ministry building. Three of his security contractor teammates, and three international diplomats who were scared out of their fucking minds and visibly struggling to hold it together.The sound of more breaking glass shattered the tension in the room. Another fire alarm blared to life from down one of the hallways, signaling that the flames were spreading fast. Already the smoke was thick enough to make his eyes sting. “We’ve got a minute or two, max, before they scale the wall,” he said to the man on his right.Scottie, the team leader and Hunter’s best friend, scanned their darkened surroundings, but they both knew there was only one way out. “Call again for an emergency exfil,” he
Scottie ended Hunter’s descent with an upraised fist that commanded him to stop. His voice was calm, his eyes intense as he stared up at him. “That’s an order, Hunt. Get your ass up there.”Everything in him rebelled at the command, but he knew Scottie was right. His first duty was to the diplomats they’d voluntarily come to save. He’d get everyone to the roof and direct the bird in, then come back for Scottie if necessary. “Roger that.”Suddenly Scottie’s head snapped around to face the corridor and he fired twice at more attackers. Hunter turned and ran, taking three stairs at a time. Four strides up, he heard Scottie grunt. Hunter whirled in time to see him struggling to his knees, blood pouring out from beneath the bottom of his tactical vest.Without hesitation he lunged down the stairs toward his friend.“I said go!” Scottie’s annoyed gaze bored into his, filled with resolve. Hunter read the unspoken message there. Scottie was prepared to give his life to save the rest of them.
Bent over his keyboard in his third floor office, Youssef Khan inspected the latest schematic in his AUTOCAD program. He was concentrating so hard that he jolted a little in his chair when his computer signaled an instant message with a loud ding. He frowned. He never got instant messages at work. Only at home when he was communicating with one person in particular.His heart rate kicked up a notch. When he read the username along with the message, written in Pashto, his insides tightened.Is she here?It was him. Youssef almost couldn’t believe it.They’d never attempted to contact him here at work before, but IM was his contact’s preferred method of communication. The man was paranoid about phones being tapped and e-mails being traced, so he was always sending messages via different usernames and accounts to avoid detection and tracking. Youssef straightened and considered his reply. Whatever the contact’s network wanted, it must be important for them to take the risk of contacting
“He’s here.”Khalia blinked and looked up from her laptop at Ray Dunlop, the fifty-eight- year-old co-founder of Fair Start Foundation, standing in the hotel room doorway. “What? Who?”“Your team leader.”Huh? Was her jetlag so bad that she’d screwed up the date somehow? A quick check of her calendar assured her she hadn’t. “He’s a day early.”“Yeah, how about that.” Ray’s sun-weathered features gave nothing away about what he thought of the head of her newly arrived security detail. She knew nothing about the man in question except that he’d been handpicked by Tom, the owner of Titanium Security. Normally she would have at least read a file on the men in her detail before arriving here in Pakistan but in light of recent events, Tom had been left scrambling to find replacement contractors for the job.“Downstairs?” she asked, a little nervous about meeting the man who would be responsible for her safety for the duration of her visit.Ray nodded. “In the lobby.”Okay then, apparently f
Given what he’d seen and read about her in her file, Khalia Patterson wasn’t at all what he’d expected. And Hunter wasn’t the kind of man who liked to be surprised. Not in this line of work.Next time he talked to Tom, he was going to give him hell for this.Hunter held Khalia’s gaze as he approached and pushed aside his misgivings about the job. First off, she was a hell of a lot prettier than he’d realized. The few pictures he’d seen of her hadn’t been of good quality, and her face had been all puffy and wet from crying at her father’s funeral. She might not be beautiful, but there was definitely something about her that drew his interest. She moved with a smooth, purposeful gait that spoke of a high level of self-esteem and he had to give her points for maintaining eye contact without flinching because right now he wasn’t making an effort to mask his feelings about this detail.Taking her out to the tribal region while there was a credible threat against her life? Even if he hadn’t
The knock on her hotel room door came at exactly nine the next morning. Hunter was punctual, that was for sure. She liked that he cared about attention to detail.Khalia strode over to answer the door, took a deep breath to quell the butterflies flitting around in her stomach before pulling it open. She and Hunter hadn’t gotten off on the best footing yesterday, and it was her fault. He probably thought she was a total bitch and hated the thought of being near her for the next week. She was determined to make amends for any damage she’d caused and smooth things over.She pulled the door open. Hunter stood there with his hair still damp from a recent shower and wearing cargo pants and a collared shirt. “Hi.”“Morning.” His intent gaze swept over her, taking in the modest knee-length blue dress and black silk scarf she’d covered her hair and shoulders with. Though there was nothing overtly sexual in the perusal, she could sense the male approval there and a shocking burst of heat filled