She needed that gun.
She spun on her heel and locked her gaze on Faris. Then she lunged. They fell to the ground in a heap, glass shards cutting through her wetsuit. She scratched and kicked and punched, taking blows herself. Somewhere behind her, Aisha screamed for them to stop.
Leila slammed onto her back, and Faris’s hand to clamped around her neck and squeezed. She clawed at his arm, pushing him back. Cold metal pressed against Leila’s temple, and she sucked in her breath, clawing his forearm with an iron grip.
“That’s right,” Faris growled through closed teeth. “Stop before I blow a hole in your head.”
Crying, Aisha pulled Faris back. Leila turned onto her side, gasping for air.
“What is wrong with you tw—” Aisha froze. Leila followed her gaze to the pistol in Faris’s hand. “You do have a gun. Why?”
Leila didn’t wait to hear the explanation. She pushed herself to her feet and ran.
“What has gotten into you?” Aisha cried out behind Leila, becoming more frantic with each word. Her desperate scream followed Leila’s retreating back. “Faris! Don’t do this!”
Without a plan, Leila ran. She needed that gun. She needed the cell phone. She needed help. Heart thudding, she darted around the corner of the house, only to hear the pounding of footsteps coming toward her. A guard ran onto the patio, a pistol in his hand. She skidded to a stop and looked the guard up and down. He did the same, gun raised.
He yelled something in Greek and, only able to guess what he said, she lifted her hands in surrender. The guard walked up to her, reaching for her shoulder as if to turn her around. She swung her arm and knocked the gun from his hand, then brought her knee up between his legs. He folded with a grunt. She pushed him over, kicked him in the ribs, then retrieved his gun from the tile.
“Don’t move,” she growled. With the weapon pointed at him, he held perfectly still as she checked his pockets for keys. Once her fingers wrapped around a key ring, she gave him another kick, then left the guard writhing on the ground.
She wove her way across the island, winding around olive trees and rocks. The crumbling Greek columns towered above her, but she didn’t give them a second glance. Her focus was on the bunker tucked between the boulders.
Get back to the tunnels. Release Soliman.
The entry was still wide open, an inky portal she wished she could just jump into and be transported back in time before she had ever found out her mother still lived.
The opening loomed just a few feet in front of her, when three armed guards stepped out of the black hole. They stopped and aimed. She ducked to the side and rolled behind a Greek column, just as a blast cracked between the ruins. Somewhere ahead of her, a bullet pinged against a rock.
She pressed her back against the column and a drop of sweat slid down her temple. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but it was either them or her. With a deep breath, she popped out the magazine. Her heart stopped. There were two bullets. She snapped the magazine back into place and stared at the weapon, her hands shaking. She’d never get past the guards. Her eyes flickered over the landscape as more of the watchmen rushed into the area and threw themselves behind boulders and columns.
She swallowed painfully.
She was surrounded.
CHAPTER 37
The hangar buzzed with activity. Uniformed pilots climbed around the helicopters parked in the hall, making their final inspections before flight. A loud beep echoed as the pushback vehicle dragged one helicopter in reverse out the opened door. The harsh, white lighting overhead cast a painful contrast to the black sky outside but soon, the sun would rise, and their mission would begin.
Dressed in black fatigues, Xander sat at a table in the middle of the hall, ready to go. Sort of. His arm hung in a sling, rendered useless thanks to the bullet wound in his shoulder. He clenched his teeth to distract himself from the warm, throbbing ache—an improvement from the stabbing pain he experienced before the pain meds kicked back in. At that moment, it was just enough to be slightly annoying but not enough to stop him from going after Leila.
Although, if Jones had had his way, Xander would already be on his way to prison in England. After giving his sworn testimony, Hawkins had been easy to convince. Jones, not so much. But he eventually gave in and decided to go along with the new plans. More than anything, Jones wanted to stop the bomber. Xander couldn’t get them to drop their suspicions of Soliman, but once Faris was proved to be the culprit, things should smooth out for the professor.
Except for Jones’s continuing mistrust and this stupid, aching shoulder, Xander was back to square one. For now. Even if their mission was successful, Xander would still have to face the consequences of his actions.
He shoved away the gloomy thought. Right now, he needed to focus.
“Thanks to Harrison’s information,” Captain Andrikopoulos, the operational manager of the Hellenic Police’s Special Suppressive Antiterrorist Unit, said from the front of the table. He was a man in his forties and was also dressed in the black fatigues. “We found the island in question. Our drone footage has given us a clear image of what to expect when we reach the island. Twelve armed guards, possibly more if the island really does have a network of underground tunnels. We’re still waiting on radar data so we can map the place out.
“The security guards’ level of training isn’t known, but according to records, they’ve been hired through a contractor. We are looking into that as well, but they shouldn’t be too much for you all to handle.” Andrikopoulos slid the map on the table forward and pointed to a red dot in the blue area.
“There’s a cave at water level, which seems to be the point of entry for boats. According to Harrison, it’s possible that these tunnels are being used as a vault for stolen goods. These tunnels are to be cordoned off until they can be searched.”
The group of special agents nodded.
Andrikopoulos took in a deep breath, then went on, “Our mission: detain Adel Soliman, Faris Al-Rashid, and Leila Sterling. Chances of success are in our favor, with all persons-of-interest isolated on this tiny island, fifty miles off the coast of Greece. While our team is on the island, we will have three helicopters patrolling the surrounding waters. Any vessel trying to leave will be stopped.”
The plan sounded simple. Adrenaline stirred in Xander’s veins, and his legs bounced impatiently in response. Hopefully Montu was on the island. Xander would be more than happy to return his favor and get rid of the jerk for good.
Andrikopoulos went on to inform each officer of their role in the raid, then tilted his head at Xander, snapping him out of his daydream of shooting Montu in the face.
“Harrison, you’re forbidden to carry a weapon—there will be consequences if you do. And due to your injury, your sole responsibility will be getting Sterling off the island. Leave the rest to the others.”
Xander nodded, though kept his mouth shut to stop himself from making any promises.
“Harrison,” Andrikopoulos barked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s get into the air and stop them before the next bomb goes off.”
The officers rose, saluted, then filed toward the door. They each retrieved a pack and one of the M4 rifles by the door then walked outside. Xander grabbed his bag and heaved one strap over his good shoulder—no guns had been left for him. He followed up the end of the line as they walked across the airport apron, toward the landing pad where the three black helicopters waited, the blades rotating slowly, preparing for take-off.
The officers were silent as they took their places in the belly of the beast. The roar of the machine intensified, a jolt, a slight pressure on Xander’s shoulders from gravity, and they lifted from the ground.
Jones sat across from Xander, watching him with narrowed eyes. Xander stared back. Delivering a fist square to Jones’s nose would be so satisfying after what the bloke had done to Leila. Unfortunately, Jones was the one with the gun.
But that was a different battle for a different day. Xander looked away, concentrating on the window, watching as the landscape changed from rocks and dirt to turquoise waters and scattered rock formations, then to the rich blue of the deep sea. He swallowed, wondering what awaited him at the island. Had Leila even made it there? Or did Montu try to execute her at sea as well?
