John kept to his word. Two days later and he was ready to be checked out of the hospital. Lizzy giggled as he waddled over to the bathroom. The back of his gown left little to her imagination.
“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny. You’d think they’d have a larger gown for taller patients.”
“I don’t think it’s your height, baby.” Lizzy laughed. “You look like the incredible hulk, hulking out of teeny human clothes.”
Donnie walked in, grinning at John’s bare ass. “And the beard gives him a yeti vibe.”
“I need clean clothes.”
Lizzy spent a day in the ward, under observation. Charlie was kind enough to bring Lizzy a change of clothes the day before, but she’d mistakenly packed an old pair of John’s pants that no longer fitted around his muscled waist.
“Relax, big man. I have your lumberjack clothing ready and waiting.”
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WyomingThree weeks laterRay huffed out a snore as she rolled over to her side on the wooden porch. Scratching her velvety neck with his foot, Johnny took a swig of beer. The setting sun provided the perfect backdrop to Lizzy’s sweet profile as she strummed softly on her guitar.She paused, then swore. “Gosh, dang it.”“The finger again?”“Or lack thereof.”“Don’t push it. Give it time.”Lizzy stuck out her tongue, and Johnny grinned. She made a pretty picture, sitting cross-legged on the rocking chair with her hair twisted in a cute bun at the nape of her neck. Not quite long enough, tendrils fell around her face, dancing in the autumn breeze. Back to her normal weight with flushed cheeks—an outside observer would never guess at the trauma she’d experienced just a couple of months before. Dragging his chair closer, Johnny leaned i
Make sure to check out “Fire in the Knight,” book three of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens to Charlotte Quinn and Donnie Wilson!Saint Julian’s, MaltaWith no sign of potential witnesses in the hall, the man pulled the apartment door shut with a soft click. He adjusted his hoodie and ran down the steps before stepping onto the damp pavement. The sun had set and on a wet November night in Malta, the streets surrounding Spinola Bay were practically deserted.It was time to settle in and wait. The mark—Joseph da Silva—had only just sat down for dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. It would be at least an hour before he returned to his rental villa facing the water.With quick and efficient movements, the assassin made his way to the docked speedboat. Villas and hotels pressed together around the inlet, stacked like LEGOs around the small cove. He ignore
Somewhere near the South Sudan/ Uganda borderThe black stallion skittered sideways, and the rider brought him harshly back into line. He couldn’t blame Atheas. Temperatures soared into the mid-forties and they’d been here too long. He patted the sweat-soaked stallion’s coat and called out to one of the men.“The horse needs water. How long does it take to clear a damn village?”“We’re almost done, master. I’ll find something.”“Fuck it. We’ve gone too far north. We’ll backtrack to the church we passed.”The church they’d ransacked. The Scythian adjusted his soaked hood, feeling perspiration chafing his already raw skin. This was the price he paid for being the most notorious extremist on the African continent. A woman started wailing, and her shrieks added to his already irritated mood.“Someone kill the bitch.”The
Peshawar, PakistanSeven months laterLizette Steyn disengaged the slide, pulled up the door handle and swung the aircraft door outward. Frigid air swept in and she barely repressed a shiver. “Freezing fudge buckets,” she muttered before greeting the ground agent at the top of the stairs. The miserable structure that was Bacha Khan International Airport looked archaic—with all the developing nations Lizzy had visited in the past five months, that was saying a lot. Peshawar, the wild west town of Pakistan, felt as cold as a dead man’s nose.“Well isn’t that just grand,” Brianna muttered, stepping out of the wind. “All I bloody packed was a vest and a sleeveless shirt.”Lizzy refrained from rolling her eyes. The two other cabin attendants had as much sense as two rolling hamsters. Brianna, a hardy Irish girl who started flying for JetHaven around the same time as
The rickshaw dropped them off in Clock Tower Square. Brianna scurried into the first rug stall and the other girls followed. The locals seemed friendly, and the store owner immediately offered them a traditional green tea. Lizzy loved the sweet tea native to Pakistan so she gladly accepted. Suzie turned her nose up and Lizzy quickly drank it to ease her companion’s faux pas. Lizzy had brought her digital Canon along and snapped photos along the way. The expensive camera had been a gift from her father on her last birthday and she loved it, thinking maybe someday she’d write a travel book.The narrow streets crammed with wares were an overload on the senses. Donkeys clattered among bearded men in turbans selling their textiles. A pakol hat maker tried to sell her a hat as she dodged a moped bike. The decaying Sikh architecture littering the gray and brown streets was fascinating. Unstable wooden buildings were stacked together in grimy colors. Wires, phone lines an
Cold seeped up from the rough cement floor, and Lizzy wiggled her toes, trying to warm up the ice blocks that were now her feet. She shivered like a tuning fork, and her body thrummed as a cold breeze shifted the air. The sun had set hours ago, and the shouts outside the barred window had finally fallen silent.The women were placed in separate rooms. Lizzy hadn’t seen anyone since the phone call to John. That seemed like hours ago. Lizzy ignored the scuffling in a dark corner of the room—not wanting to know which critters crept in the shadows. Instead she focused on the grimy wall in front of her. Aside from smaller scrapes, her thigh throbbed in time with her racing heart. A well-placed kick from one of the attackers would result in a bruise the size of a plate.She’d allowed them to call him, and if he came, he’d see her like this—weak and dirty. That was not how she’d imagined their next meeting. Instead, she’d imagined run
Not much got to Johnny. He liked to think he was a balanced soldier who’d seen a lot in his military career. Any challenging experiences in the field usually got resolved by physical work when Johnny returned home to his Wyoming cabin. The empty solitude had a way of flushing away the blackness of war from one’s soul.Looking into those troubled blue eyes and the sound of Lizzy’s sobs echoing in that dingy room had him wanting to put a fist through the wall. Johnny paced the hallway, waiting for the local men to liberate her from their obsolete confinement.Javid Ibrahim watched him carefully from down the hall. Johnny paused, then approached him. “Thank you for rescuing them.” He swallowed before continuing. “Without your help, they would’ve been stoned or beaten to death.”Javid nodded once. Johnny reached into his back pocket. “If you ever need any—”“I need you to look after Miss
Standing awkwardly, Lizzy tried to ignore the larger-than-life operator and concentrated on drying her hair. That steamy water had felt like heaven—she’d never felt so grateful for a warm shower. She considered herself the luckiest person in Pakistan that night. Which made her think of Brianna and Suzie. They were the unluckiest. She should’ve stayed with them, but Max was right. She’d have just gotten in the way. Worry for their safety sat heavy on her heart.“Do you want me to leave?”Lizzy shook her head. “I’ll probably be asleep in five.” She pulled damp locks over her shoulder and dried them with a towel.“I’ll bring you some food. It’s all local—”“I like local. Thanks.”John turned to leave.“I knew you were watching me,” she said.He paused, and she climbed on the bed and continued.“You were at a market in