Semua Bab Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series: Bab 41 - Bab 47

The landing was rough. Fourteen miles per hour winds rocked the aircraft. A Cape windstorm descended on the city, and fifty mph gusts were predicted within the hour. Thanks to Mandla’s contacts, they’d secured a private landing strip on a wine farm near Sir Lowry’s Pass—thirteen clicks out. With lights and speed on their side, they were looking at a nine-minute drive. Khalid’s jet had landed at Stellenbosch Airfield twenty-eight minutes before them but had a longer commute of twenty-one kilometers. Praying that Khalid hit traffic, Max’s team raced for Somerset West.Mandla gave Max the stink eye. “N

Windhoek, Namibia. By American standards, the German-run health facility was up to code. By African standards it was the Ritz Carlton. The floors were clean, walls freshly painted, it was well stocked and seemed organized. None of that alleviated the tension running through Max. They were still situated in fucking Africa, where he was relying on foreign medical staff he knew jack shit about to perform surgery on Abigail. Two hours had gone by and still no word. The nursing staff were giving Max a wide berth after he’d hounded them for the past hour.

Johannesburg. Four weeks later.   That damn dog wouldn’t be able to fight its way out of a paper packet, never mind protect his Lizzy. Johnny watched her mom’s little rat dog take a shit on the sidewalk, before his blonde beauty bent over with a poop bag to sweep up the steaming parcel. Johnny paused to take in the spectacular view that was Lizzy’s incredible ass. Perky butt cheeks shaped beautifully by faded skinny jeans. Her retro outfit included a Michael Jackson “Thriller” T-shirt, silver sneakers, fire-engine lipstick and a bandana holding back curls. Where was she taking the ankle biter? There were no parks nearby plus she carried a bright red handbag. Not the wisest choice on the streets of Jo’burg, yet she wandered down the street like she was strolling through Central Park. Granted, it was a suburban area, but it wasn’t safe. Lizzy dropped the bag of rat droppings into a neighbor’s garbage can, then wiped her hands with a wet wipe. Her p

Make sure to pick up “Stain on the Earth,” the next installment of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens in Johnny and Lizzy’s story!   Peshawar, Pakistan   Lizette 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 T-shirt.” Lizzy refrained from rolling her eyes. The other two Cabin Attendants had as much sense as two rolling hamsters. Brianna, a hardy Irish g