Kiss the Killer [From the CIA 2](BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 10

  “What’s the next step?” Eben knew he’d been brought along for one reason, to take care of the American traitor. No one had filled him in on the reasons Grant was considered a traitor, or the full plan on catching him. Actually, the only thing he had been told was to stop the traitor from carrying out any further plans to undermine the United States’ standing with other countries, any other country. That usually meant to kill and not bring the body home. This didn’t sound too foreign to Eben as he’d been trained to kill by the United States Marine Corps. It had always been his mission and he didn’t know any other alternative when he was called to duty even as an agent of the CIA. Yet, Vic Grant was one of them, an American.

  Without hesitation, Duchaine answered, “To find out all we can about the last three months of Grant’s life. He may have created a base of allies here, and we need to exterminate any and all involved.” Checking for a particular street, Duchaine ducked and bobbed his head to read the signs. “Any movement against the United States must be stopped at the core of its creation.”

  Borland appeared to agree without comment. He pointed out the sought for street name. “There’s the street back to the University. Let’s plant ourselves among the students. We won’t be noticed and can make a plan.”

  Eben sat back in his seat wondering what Grant had done to piss off the US. This manhunt had turned into more than he’d expected.

  Chapter 14

  Vic parked the car in one of the few remaining spots. They’d have to make this stop fast. He’d figured they’d get something to eat in the airport, fast and probably not too nutritious, but they’d arrived ahead of schedule so he’d let Alina have her way this time. Speeding didn’t appear to be much of a problem on Swedish highways, so he’d taken advantage of that with his eyes peeled for any vehicles keeping up with them. He hadn’t spotted anything to cause him concern.

  He patted his side, where his SIG SAUER rested, and slipped out his side of the car. Crossing in front of the vehicle, he came to her side and opened Alina’s door. As he opened it, he said, “This might be a good place to get the rest of our trip in order.”

  She looked up at him with an agreeable smile. This gave him a signal that she was willing to cooperate, listen to how he wanted it done, and not give him any problems. He caught a glimpse of sadness cross her brown-and-green swirled eyes. It disappeared as she scooted out of her seat.

  He didn’t need a reminder about his deceptive manner to get her to her goal of rescuing Christa. This might be the time to give her a tidbit of information on what would be expected from them after reaching Egypt. He didn’t want a scene in front of the Egyptian leader, Abasi Shehata. Really, there was no other way to have any expectancy of arriving in Iraq safely without power behind them to call off the dogs. She had to understand that.

  He looped his arm under her elbow and led her into the restaurant.

  Standing at the reception desk, it was hard not to notice the laughing visitors around them. The atmosphere resembled many of the small pubs and restaurants he’d stopped at in the last few months. The tables, chairs, supporting beams, and moldings all had the same thick, dark wood lending comfort to the establishment. The smell of food and spices wafted through the air.

  As they waited for the hostess, Vic surreptitiously glanced toward Alina. He pretended to look over her head as if he wondered where their seating would land. Really, he studied her profile and the way her hair changed colors of red and brown in the lighting. Strands that lay against her shoulder shone in the slats of sun coming through the heavy paned windows. Her skin looked soft and had a slight cherry tint to it, whether it was from the wind outside or a natural hue, it didn’t matter. He wished they were here with a different mindset.

  He rarely took the time to imagine a normal life, or what he thought most people had other than hiding behind the scenes and always chasing down the criminal. He didn’t know any better. That’s all he’d done for nearly twenty years. Any normal family life, if you could call it that, had long been forgotten. His relationship with his sister, Kat, was about as typical as he could get. They shared a few phone calls, a random holiday if he wasn’t on an assignment, and occasionally he’d stop by for a cookout. The last cookout he’d arrived for had been four years ago. Kat always invited him over, sometimes he’d accept, but most the time it ended in a cancellation and a rain check. His parents, divorced, lived on opposite ends of the US, and a bi-yearly phone call to each summed up their communication. His parents had new lives, the distance deterred visits, and common interests rarely surfaced.

  “I have a table for you over here.” The hostess interrupted his crazy thinking and led them to a corner booth without a window.

  He appreciated the lack of a window, so no one could see them from the outside. He sat on the side facing the inner part of the restaurant. His mind rarely diverted from his profession, not even for a minute until Alina slid into her booth seat across from him.

  A smile quivered on her lips for a moment. She left her jacket on. She must’ve taken him seriously that the meal would be quick unless she had ice running through her veins. He doubted that, although it’d be better for him. He needed to quit that train of thought again.

  “What?” She stared into his eyes.

  He shook his head. “Huh? Oh, nothing.” He pulled a couple menus from the holder pushed against the wall. “Let’s make a decision.” He really needed to get his act together if he wanted to keep them both alive and get her back to Sweden. He’d probably pick a different destination for himself after their tour of Iraq. He’d know her for another couple days, maybe a week.

  After they recited their order to the waitress, Alina watched him expectantly. “I’ll go over what we need to be doing, Alina.” She sighed and straightened in her seat ready to listen. “Austria. We’ll leave the airport, make a call to my contacts, and then two hours later we’ll board for Cairo, Egypt.” He watched her face as her eyebrows played tricks with her attention. “Once we get to Cairo, Shehata will have one of his men waiting for us.”

  “You really haven’t told me why this ‘Shehata’ is willing to help and how he can.” Her brows remained raised with her question.

  Wanting to appear confident and in control of the plan, he said, “You won’t actually be working, but Shehata has arranged for you to get back to the chemical plant that you believe your cousin is kept at. You’ll be under the guise of working for him.”

  “What?” She bent her shoulders over the table and spoke in a hushed, yet non-approving tone. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you to keep the details to yourself for so long.” She looked around the dining room, then back to him. “I’m glad we haven’t left the country yet because I can’t stop in random countries, and then end up working for whoever your ‘friend’ in Cairo is. All I want to do is get to Iraq and get out as soon as possible.”

  “And we’ll do that.” She glared while he continued. “I’ve thoroughly thought this out, and I believe my suggestion is the safest way to carry out what we intend to accomplish.”

  “What we intend? I suppose you have a whole different reason for going to Iraq and maybe you don’t have any intentions of finding my cousin Christa.” He kept a straight face as she exploded, still keeping her voice low. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this with you.”

  “First, why would I take you if I didn’t have any intentions of finding Christa? You’d only get in my way for anything else.” She pushed back into the seat. “You are aware that it’s extremely difficult for women to travel in Iraq let alone without a man?” She didn’t answer. “I thought so.”

  After a moment of studying the scarred tabletop, she said, “How is your man in Cairo able to set me up for Iraq? Why didn’t we choose a closer or neutral country?”

  “As I’ve mentioned, I have contacts there.”

  “I’m really tired of hearing about ‘contacts.’ I want to know more.”

  He looked up as the waitress glanced toward their table. Hi
s eyes roamed the room. “We’re also helping Shehata. His daughter was killed in Iraq.”

  Alina opened and then closed her mouth. Her eyes softened at the thought of more violence. “What does that have to do with us? If she, his daughter, is already dead…”

  “It’s called revenge.” Her eyes quickly narrowed. “You’ll be safe in the chemical plant when I repay Shehata for getting us in and out of Iraq. It’d be better if you don’t know any more than this. The more you know, the easier it is to get killed.”

  Steaming plates of food were set in front of them. Vic grabbed his fork and dug in. He was hungry and a sense of urgency about staying in one place too long began to crowd his conscience. He looked up and saw Alina staring at him. She hadn’t touched her food. “You better eat.”

  She absently poked at her dinner. “What can you do in the form of revenge for this Egyptian leader?” He looked at her and then returned his attention to his plate. “Are you going to kill someone or something?”

  “As I said, it’s called revenge.”

  She took a bite. Her stomach growled, yet she put her fork down and said, “I can’t be involved in you killing someone. I just want my cousin back.” Playing with the silverware, she added, “Have you killed someone before? Working with the CIA?”

  After a wary look around, Vic looked her in the eyes. The clatter and voices in the dining room disguised their discussion. “Not today.” He went back to eating. “Okay, so what’s your plan if you don’t go with me?”

  Her face blushed the prettiest of pinks. “I’ll go by myself like I originally planned to do, and then I won’t have to take any detours.”

  “How do you plan to find her and extract her from her confines? Terrorists aren’t usually willing to be nice and cooperative.” He continued to eat, his plate half empty. Alina needed to catch up, or she’d be hungry on the plane trip. “Maybe whoever has your cousin isn’t a terrorist, but my guess is they have connections to terrorists as most of the bad seeds have multiple levels in their business negotiations.”

  She scowled, confirming his logic.

  “Alina, eat. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll be safer with me than on your own, whether you believe me or not. If I tell you more, you’ll be in more danger. I don’t know how else to convince you.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and set the fork on the plate. He also knew that his plan included her and to make a drastic change at this point could be perilous.

  The nagging thought of enjoying her company and watching how her body moved when she walked, and the crinkle of her cheeks when she spared him a smile had something to do with it. He hated giving himself the opportunity to consider anything other than his plan for leaving the US. He had agents to extricate from their death sentences, and he didn’t need to waylay himself with emotions about a woman he now needs to get him to this particular agent.

  It’s a perfect plan he couldn’t have manifested on his own. Alina’s need to get to Iraq and Shehata’s use of her along with the Egyptian’s power and protection turned out to be as close to a magic carpet ride to Agent Bret Ferrier as Vic could hope for.

  She picked up a potato wedge, stuck it in her mouth, and rose from the table. “I have to use the lady’s room.” She turned and sauntered down the aisle.

  * * * *

  Alina meandered among the guests and servers she needed to get past to find the restroom. Her very first plan to rescue Christa now could be seen full of holes. She knew it never would have worked. The idea of begging and pleading, along with a river of tears, wouldn’t melt the iron hand of the regime responsible for Christa’s capture. She had been incredibly foolish and naïve to consider marching into a terrorist occupied country on her own with demands and nothing to bargain with.

  The last few minutes of Vic’s speech confirmed the doubt built up in the back of her mind. She couldn’t ignore that Vic was right about her situation. So why did it make her so mad? Why couldn’t she accept that this man was exactly who and what she needed right now? He promised to keep her safe, but what about himself?

  She sidled past the coffee and water station to slip into the women’s bathroom. This was when she’d planned to wander off on her own.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. She saw the gray areas of her idea color her face in frustration. This is why she’d become a chemist. Chemistry was as close to black and white she could get in a degree that interested her. Too many gray or unknown areas caused her to doubt her abilities. No matter how good Vic’s plan was, she knew danger was involved.

  Her mind transferred to Vic. His blue eyes held a clarity and confidence that scared her. His face was hard lined, yet the short, dark hair speckled around the temples with a soft gray gave him a maturity not from years, but from experience. She didn’t like that. If he was too sure of himself, when danger approached she knew he’d jump in front of the bus to save her. It didn’t matter they only partnered for this one event. She didn’t have to be engaged to Vic as she had been engaged to Jon Sauhran. Vic would die the same way Jon did, at her feet in a crumpled body of blood.

  She finished her business and left the restroom for the traffic of the restaurant. Waiting for a family to cross in front of her, she glanced toward her corner table. Vic had pushed his plate to the edge of the table and had his hand wrapped around his coffee cup. She could sense his awareness of everything happening within sight. She also saw a man who knew what he was doing and how to do it. Still with his jacket on to cover his weapon, she could imagine the strength of his bicep as he reached back to rub his neck. He was perfectly built, perfectly gorgeous, and perfectly smart.

  She really should leave him before she got him killed.

  Chapter 15

  “This is the only gate for international flights. We shouldn’t have any trouble stopping him here.” CIA Agent Mitch Denvers informed his partner, Agent Rip Collier. They stood against a wall bisecting the check-in lines and avenues to the five gates. The Arlanda Airport was small enough that knowing their target, they didn’t anticipate any problems tracking down Vic Grant and his companion.

  “When Duchaine called, how’d he figure Grant was headed for this airport? Sounds iffy when you consider who we’re dealing with.” Collier never assumed anything, and Denvers was glad his partner balanced against his own habit of taking the easy route when in doubt.

  “Knowing Grant, the three month sabbatical from the grind of life is an indication he’s ready to make a move. The fact that he lost Duchaine and his men shows he’s up to something, and he’d be too smart to go back to whatever rat hole he’s been living in because we’ll find him there.” Denvers spoke in a hushed tone, constantly roving the throngs of people for their target. “We’ll get him and his woman out of here, take them to the lower end of town, and a little torture might be the answer.”

  “I thought we were supposed to dispose of them?”

  “Apparently the woman he’s traveling with has connections to the chemical industry in Iraq. She’s being hunted by the Iraqi government—”

  “You mean the regime?”

  “No, the government wants her back. She’s a top chemist, knows her work, and they want to get her back to force her to act as their employee. Kreis wants to know what they’re up to before the bullet ends their lives. Kreis specifically changed the plan from kill and dispose to torture, get the facts, then dispose.” Orders from the DC office, across land and ocean, held power no matter the distance.

  “So who killed the woman’s psychiatrist? The Iraqi government?”

  “Right on. If the regime had come for the woman, they wouldn’t have taken any detours and simply bombed her home with her in it. The Iraqi government has plans for her, so they want her alive. Her psychiatrist was collateral damage in return for finding an address for Alina Runesson. We found out that’s the woman’s name.”

  “That must be from this morning’s report, before Duchaine’s call?” Denvers nodded. Collier ducked his chin and whistled into his shirt.
“This gets better and better. So you think Grant may have hooked up with Runesson to go to Iraq? That country’s on the list that he has agents in.”

  “Not sure of Grant’s reason—she could be a big liability for him unless she has some connection or information he needs.”

  They stood in silence scanning the crowd.

  Denvers broke their silence. “Let’s move closer to the outside windows. Maybe we’ll see his car run through before it’s parked.”

  They casually moved around the wall near a kiosk where Collier bought a paper. He had no intentions of reading it. “There’s no way they’ll get away on a plane with us here.”

  * * * *

  Vic watched the passing vehicles and then pulled out onto the passage that would take them to the airport and parking facilities. “I think it’d be best if you duck down in your seat.”

  “You think someone is watching?” Alina asked before making a move.

  “Just duck down.” She slid low, with her knees butting up against the dash. “I’m sure my cronies were alerted to watch for us at the airport.” He glanced ahead to the drop-off area of the terminals. “The chasers will certainly have been notified of you now. One less head seen in a vehicle may make them not look closely.” He looked toward her to assure she had listened to his request. Her slim legs were outlined in the tightness of her jeans, bent in a sexy V. Her hair fell over the front of her jacket as she tucked her chin to her chest.

  “If you’re willing to listen to me, I have a better idea.” Her voice muffled against her jacket.

  At that moment, he accelerated to ride the trunk of the car ahead of them. He listened, but didn’t comment as he spotted a parking ramp entrance and whipped the wheel to the left. Bouncing over the cement entrance, he yanked a parking ticket from the greeting machine and sped the car into the shadows.