Out of Sight Page 5

  Jesus, it was hot. His scalp itched under the wig. The skin on his face, neck, and chest pulled under the heavy makeup. He ignored the discomfort and concentrated on the task at hand. The same task he'd managed a few hours ago. Getting AJ Cooper out of trouble.

  The two guards across the way came out for a smoke. They ignored the old drunk slumped across the alley as they hunkered down on their haunches and lit up. The smoke curled lazily in the still air as they relived the torture they'd just perpetrated on two of their prisoners. Hell, they were practically whistling.

  The two prisoners were low on the food chain of Raazaq's army. They hadn't seen the earlier attack out at the ruins, hadn't been prepared for it, and had generally screwed up. They were being used as an example to everyone else in the terrorist's organization of what would happen when an order was not obeyed. Raazaq's first-in-command would be there in the morning to take the bodies back to camp as an example. These two yahoos had a free reign of terror until then.

  Was this smoke break just a brief respite before they went back in and started in on Cooper? His insides bunched. He'd been tortured himself. Knew just what they'd be planning for Cooper. And when the beatings were over, he figured the raping would begin. He knew how fond these dirtbags were of beating and raping, but he was not about to let them destroy his best shot at getting Raazaq.

  Kane relaxed against the wall. Patient. Waiting. Watching for just the right moment as he listened to the men. He wondered if Cooper was listening, and understanding just what was in store for her.

  She had a photographic memory, but how much Arabic did she understand? She'd claimed at least a cursory knowledge of the language. Kane suspected that was an exaggeration. She'd been too eager to please, too damn bright-eyed and bushy-tailed about the prospect of her first field op. Her need to prove she was ready meant she'd probably said anything to get this assignment. But her linguistic skills, or lack thereof, weren't why T-FLAC had sent her—ready or not—in with them.

  They'd needed a beautiful woman who was a crack shot. Savage hadn't been available. Plain and simple, Cooper was second choice, and here because she had a great body, a beautiful face, and could put a bullet through a keyhole at three hundred feet.

  He'd worked with Savage before. She was good. She was reliable. She was seasoned. But Savage was banged up and not due out of the hospital for months. And they'd needed someone now.

  Cooper was it. Lucky him.

  Kane hoped to hell the rookie couldn't hear or understand the conversation going on right now. These guys were practically salivating at the prospect of interrogating their witness at daybreak. What they had planned for her was enough to chill the sweat on his skin and raise the hair on the back of his neck under the scraggly wig.

  "Hey!" he shouted in slurred Arabic. "Gimme a smoke."

  The men laughed as they got to their feet. All that alcohol would cause an old man like him to explode with a bang if he lit up, they taunted. Not to mention Allah would see him in hell for his vices.

  Kane grumbled, but toasted them with his bottle before wrapping his galabayya around himself and pretending to settle down for the night. Through slitted lids he watched them reenter the small jail. It was too hot to close the door behind them, and they didn't bother. A narrow stream of light speared out into the stinking alley.

  With any luck, AJ was in a cell alone. He wasn't in the mood to jailbreak anyone else. No doubt she'd be a gibbering wreck when he sprung her. Enough of a handful without extra baggage. And he couldn't afford to wait any longer. He wasn't risking the guards moving on her before morning.

  Kane staggered to his feet and shuffled across the alley, making no effort at stealth. All they'd see was an old beggar, coming to pick up their still-glowing cigarette butts. He took his time crossing the narrow alley, then stooped to pinch a smoldering smoke between gnarled fingers, straightening slowly, and with apparent difficulty. The guards noticed his motion near the door, and cursed him halfheartedly. Apathetic in the sultry heat, bored now, they were ready to be diverted. Morning, and the entertainment of interrogating the female prisoner, seemed a long way off.

  Kane took a drag off the foul Kevork Ipekian and expelled a cloud of camel-dung-scented smoke into the still night air as he shambled inside.

  Fortunately, boredom and heat had the two men too lazy to give him much thought. He didn't waste his time. It took less than a minute to dispose of them with a knife to the kidney. Kane left them slumped over the desk and went in search of his errant agent.

  All was quiet. The stone building retained the heat of the day, and the smell in the narrow confines of the corridor leading to the cells was rank. Didn't matter where in the world the jail was, they all smelled the same. Terror, blood, pain, helplessness.

  He palmed the keys he'd snagged off a convenient hook, to prevent a jangling of warning, and chose a door at random. Flashed the mini Mag light into the small cell as soon as the door swung open. The stench of bodily fluids hit him like a punch. Two bodies, crumpled on the dirt floor. He took precious seconds to check for pulses. Dead. The guards were sloppy but enthusiastic. He unlocked the next door, and shoved it open. "Cooper? You in h—"

  She jumped him from behind the door, and Kane fell for the ruse like a veritable rookie as she knocked him to his knees on the hard floor. "Jesus, woman! I'm here to save your ass." He broke her hold, shot to his feet, and had her in a head-lock before she could knee him in the nuts.

  Her nails dug into his forearms. "You son of a bitch, I'm not telling you anything. I'll make you sorry you ever opened that goddamn door."

  "I am sorry," he muttered, and winced as she clawed and moved around trying to dislodge his hold on her.

  She slammed her heel down on his instep and he grit his teeth, but didn't let go. Her neck was slender and fragile. One pop and she'd be gone. The thought chilled him.

  "Settle down before you hurt yourself," he instructed the ungrateful agent. "Or before I hurt you."

  She stopped waltzing around him and froze, slender body bowed at the waist as she finally recognized that he was speaking English. He could almost hear her thinking.

  "Kane?"

  "No. The Godfather. Who do you think would waltz in here to save your ass in the middle of the night? We seem to have fallen into a me-rescuing-you loop. Cooper," he said, pissed off. "We'll figure out how to break the pattern later. Let's get the hell out of here before someone else shows up."

  She froze. "Crap!" she muttered under her breath, and then more loudly, "All the blood's rushing to my head. Want to let go now?"

  He let her go abruptly and she staggered back into the wall. Wasting no time, he reached out, snagged a fistful of her shirt, and yanked her forward again. He ran the small beam of light from the mini Mag across her face. Other than filthy, she looked in reasonably decent shape. All things considered. "You injured?"

  "Thanks for the sympathy, but no," AJ said tartly. She straightened, then pushed past him and strode down the corridor toward the light glowing from the office. Her black cotton pants and a loose, long-sleeved T-shirt were covered with pale dust. She was a mess. A ripped-off strip of fabric fluttered on her left sleeve, exposing a bloody scratch high on her arm. A bullet graze.

  She'd lost her baseball cap, but not even captivity was going to dislodge so much as a hair from the tight braid on the back of her head. Following close behind her, Kane could see where a dark bloodstain smeared her hair, indicating the point of impact. She didn't smell any better than she looked. But then, neither did he. They were a fine pair, he thought sourly.

  Her movements were solid as she walked, instinctively looking for an ambush. He felt a flicker of admiration, and, frankly, relief, that she wasn't a gibbering idiot. Thank God she wasn't clinging to him in terror like a motherless monkey. He'd already decided if she freaked out, he'd knock her unconscious and carry her out. Too damn hard to pull off a rescue when the rescuee was hysterical with fear.

  She continued down the corridor ahead
of him with a loose-hipped sway that was sexy as hell. Kane shook his head. Every other man in T-FLAC might think Cooper was the hottest thing to hit the agency since sliced bread, but he wasn't one of them. He never mixed business with pleasure. And he had a feeling Cooper would be too high maintenance for him, even if she wasn't his subordinate and on an op.

  Fortunately, so far, so good. She seemed to have it together. Unfortunately, more of Raazaq's men would be here at first light. Which gave them a half hour, tops, before the bloodhounds were out trying to run them to ground.

  He and the rookie would be at the apartment across town in fifteen minutes. He'd lay low, then radio the extraction team to remove her later today. He'd spent several hours debating the wisdom of trusting Cooper to finish the assignment. It was too important to leave anything to chance. She might very well be the best sharpshooter T-FLAC had ever had. But even as much as he needed her, she'd proven herself unreliable.

  It was a chance they couldn't afford to take twice.

  Time was running out, ticking like a metronome in his head. In his gut. He was wasting precious minutes of it saving Cooper's tattered ass. Again.

  He'd already lost one member of his team—Escobar was on his way home—and he pretty much wasn't happy with either of the other two members left.

  Cooper slipped down the hall on the balls of her feet. Silent, efficient, alert. She held up a hand to keep him back while she glanced at the two men slumped over the desk in the front office. "Nice job."

  "I thought so," he said dryly, handing her a Sig Sauer as she nodded her thanks. They emerged into the thick darkness of the alley and shut the door behind them.

  "Transportation?"

  He pointed. "Block over."

  "Let's go." She took off at full speed. Kane caught up with her and a few minutes later they arrived at the spot where he'd left their commandeered vehicle.

  They both reached for the handle on the driver-side door. Kane quirked a brow. "What?"

  "I'll drive." AJ held out her hand for the keys. "Let me at least do something."

  Kane blocked her with his arm across her soft breasts and she stopped in her tracks, frowning up at him. "Right now you can't even see straight," he told her flatly. "Get in and buckle up."

  "But I—"

  "Get in. Buckle up," Kane repeated. He didn't mind being driven by a woman. Made no difference to him. But a woman with a head injury? No, thank you.

  AJ hustled around the front of the vehicle, opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat. "I appreciate you coming for me," she told him as soon as he got in and put the car in gear.

  Kane pulled into the street, shooting her a glance. "Since when has T-FLAC ever left a man behind?" They were more obsessed with retrieving their operatives than the Navy SEALs were.

  "Never." She rubbed at her forehead with a grubby hand.

  "Headache?"

  "No. Yes. Of course I have a headache. Some goon hit me with what felt like a frigging two-by-four." She shot him a glance and he noticed she had blood smudged on her eyelids—possibly from the blow to the head. Didn't seem to faze her any, but it sure as hell bothered Kane.

  The air-conditioning was on high, and he noticed her nipples poking at the front of her T-shirt. Heat shot to his groin and he got a semi-hard-on just looking at her. Christ. This was all he needed. He was shocked, and pissed, at his reaction to her. He pulled his attention back to the road, and gripped the wheel more tightly.

  "Did the others make it to the safe house?"

  "Escobar caught transpo home a couple of hours ago. Struben's waiting for us at the apartment."

  "How long was I in there?" AJ stroked the barrel of the Sig absently, her attention on the buildings they passed. Kane turned down a main street and kept to the speed limit. Even at this hour of the night there was traffic. He stayed in a middle lane, hidden in plain sight. He wished to hell she'd put her hands in her lap and stop stroking the gun. Her slender fingers on that barrel were not only erotic as hell, the movement was distracting. "Four hours."

  She looked at him. "The two men in the other cell?"

  "Raazaq's people. Dead."

  "Shit." She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

  "For what? You're not responsible for the death of those men."

  "I'm responsible for Raazaq getting away. Jesus God, Kane. I'm humiliated… Worse, I'm disgusted with myself for screwing up that badly."

  "You're a professional. Use what you learned here and you won't let it happen again," Kane advised unsympathetically. God only knew he had his own suitcase of rocks to haul around. But he'd be damned if he'd listen to her feel sorry for herself. He wasn't going to give her any slack for being female, and he sure as hell wasn't giving her any slack for the screwup.

  "You'll be back at the Academy tomorrow," Kane told her. "Have yourself a little chat with the shrinks. Deal with it."

  AJ twisted in her seat to look at him, her face gray in the light from the street lamps. "You're really sending me back?"

  Kane canted his head to glance at her. Her face might be filthy, but her skin still looked smooth. He knew it was flawless. Soft. He realized his attention had dropped to her mouth and jerked his eyes back to the traffic milling in front of them. Goddamn it. "Yeah. Really," he said harshly.

  "Let me stay. Prove myself."

  "You had your chance."

  "And I only get one?"

  "This go around, yeah."

  "The best man for this job is a woman, and you know it," AJ said, talking fast now in an attempt to convince him. "You might be a master of disguise, but even you can't pull that one off. Admit it. You need me here."

  "Having a female operative smoke out Raazaq was one choice. You were there for the briefing. The other choice was me going in alone."

  "Not alone. With Struben and Escobar," she reminded him. "And you won't get within five hundred feet of Raazaq. He's even more paranoid than you are, Wright. Raazaq trusts nobody. You know that. This op is far too important to let egos get in the way." She shot him a glance, her pale, cat eyes gleaming in the lights from the dash. "Don't be pissy because I made a mistake—Okay, a frigging huge mistake. But a mistake, nonetheless. The next time I have the son of a bitch in my sights he'll be dead as a doornail. I promise."

  "I have no fucking idea what that means but I told you last night. No do-overs. You're on your way home, Cooper. Buy yourself a souvenir at the airport." Kane picked up the pace, crossed an intersection, and slipped into the dark cavern of the next alleyway for a shortcut to the freeway.

  She fumed silently beside him, but he could almost hear her mind clicking away, looking for an argument to beat his. Too bad for her, he already knew there wasn't one. This was his op, damn it. He'd do it his way.

  "Is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

  "No."

  "Then drop me off at the Ra," she told him far too mildly. "Why spend my last night in Cairo in a dump when I can sleep in a bed without fleas?"

  "Nice try. But forget it. You won't find him on your own," Kane informed her coldly. Not surprised that she wanted to do what he would have done in the same position. "And if you were stupid enough to try, you'd be looking for new employment within the hour."

  She turned to him. "But I—"

  "Quit while you're ahead. Cooper. Nothing you say or do is going to change my mind."

  She blew out a frustrated breath. "Know one of my favorite games I played with my brother when we were kids?" AJ asked, apropos of nothing, and far too sweetly.

  Kane didn't give a damn, but he snapped out, "What?" anyway.

  When he shot her an annoyed glance she smiled that annoying Julia Roberts smile that drove him nuts and raised an eyebrow. "Chicken."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  « ^ »

  Kane Wright was intractable.

  Stubborn.

  Pigheaded.

  And in charge, AJ reminded herself, let's not forget in charge.

  Great White Shark. M
innow.

  Got it. Didn't like it. But got it.

  She would have given a lot to be able to read his mind right now. Then again, she wasn't wearing asbestos. She was probably better off not knowing. What he'd said already was just the tip of his iceberg, but the gist stung quite enough. And the knowledge would probably give her more performance anxiety than she already had.

  She mulled over how she could go about convincing him she was invaluable after she'd proved herself just the opposite mere hours ago.

  It was before dawn, but the Cairo streets were already teeming. Life went on. Kane's disguise was so effective that between the iffy streetlights and the pancake makeup he wore, she couldn't read his expression. Displeasure, however, radiated off of him in waves. She felt like a kid twho'd disappointed her favorite teacher.

  And to be absolutely fair, she'd have felt the same way in his position if an unseasoned rookie had been foisted on her in such an all-fired rush. On the other hand, she thought grimly as Kane took a corner and narrowly missed three kids riding a single bicycle, which wobbled all over the road, if the rookie was exactly what the mission required, if the rookie was top in her sniping class, if that rookie could be used as bait to set the trap, if that rookie was 100 percent right for the job…

  AJ sighed. She'd send the rookie home for screwing up!

  Crap. She hated being logical about this.

  God only knew Kane Wright was a brilliant field operative. But T-FLAC sure as hell hadn't hired him for his people skills. Besides, he had plenty of reason to be cranky with her.

  People skills or not—in his case, a big not—the hero worship she'd been feeling for months had slipped a cog into something a little more personal when she'd met him for the first time three days ago at the briefing for this op.

  While she had devoured his reports and his analytical papers on terrorism at the Academy, AJ hadn't thought of him as a man so much as an icon she'd set on a pedestal. Someone she would try to emulate. Someone whose career was everything she wanted her own to be. When they'd called her in from a training exercise to inform her she'd be going on assignment with Kane Wright, her heart had pounded so hard, she'd figured she might pass out with excitement at the great man's feet.