Millions To Spare

and signed the document. Then Harrison sat down and signed his name, as well.

The small group surrounding them gave a lilting, high-pitched cheer, and Ahmed cranked up the music.

Rania and her sisters immediately began serving food.

“Where’s your passport?” Harrison asked Julia, drawing her aside.

Julia pointed to the pouch that hung around her neck, beneath her blouse.

Harrison held out his hand. “I’ve got a chopper waiting for our ID and the marriage certificate.”

“You’re taking them away?”

“Ahmed’s brother Rafiq will take them to the British High Commission in Abu Dhabi and wait while they issue your diplomatic passport.”

Julia drew on the string that held the passport pouch. “They can do that?”

“Yes, they can.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” She wasn’t too crazy about giving up her passport.

“Nuri made the arrangements.”

Julia hesitated. Where Nuri was involved, things didn’t seem to go so well for her.

“He has nothing against you,” Harrison assured her. “And he’s extremely loyal to me.”

Julia nodded and extracted the little black book and handed it over. Nuri aside, trusting Harrison’s judgment had kept her free and safe this long.

He exited the house, while Rania handed her a cup of mint tea and offered her a stuffed date.

Julia’s anxiety was returning in force, and she wasn’t particularly hungry, but the family had worked so hard on the impromptu wedding that she didn’t want to do anything to offend them. So she accepted both with a smile and a thank-you.

Then Harrison returned to her side.

“How long?” she asked him.

“A couple of hours.”

She nodded, her stomach knotting further. A lot could happen in a few hours.

Chapter Thirteen

Two hours later, Harrison breathed a sigh of relief as the returning chopper put down on the sand outside the oasis.

The passenger door opened, and Ahmed’s brother hopped out, ducking his head against the rotors and the swirling sand. He quickly crossed to Harrison, handing him a diplomatic pouch.

Harrison shouted his thanks, then signaled for Julia to come out of the small house near the landing site where she had waited with Ahmed. She’d changed into plainer clothes, but her makeup was still heavy, and her hands were patterned with henna dye.

With a quick glance around the town for any danger, he took her hand and they dashed across the sand to the chopper.

Harrison helped her into the backseat, then climbed in next to the pilot and signaled for the man to take off.

Ahmed’s family had insisted that Julia keep the wedding jewelry. In return, Harrison had left the keys to the Jeep for Ahmed.

As they pulled toward the blue sky, Harrison broke the seal on the pouch. He extracted Julia’s new passport and handed it back to her.

The relief on her face did his heart good. They’d succeeded. She’d be safe now.

She opened the book and looked down at her new name, and a flash of unease went through her eyes. He was reminded she was safe at a cost. He reached back to squeeze her knee.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured her.

As he turned to face forward, his glance caught the pilot’s profile beneath his helmet.

The man was missing the tip of his nose.

Fear instantly gripped Harrison’s gut, even as he struggled to keep his features impassive. Could Rafiq have betrayed them?

Muwaffaq would either kill them in midair-two bodies in the midst of the desert would probably never be found. Or he’d fly them somewhere to question Julia. If the people he worked for thought she had information they wanted, they might try to torture it out of her.

He glanced back at her, his conscience burning with regret. In an effort to save Julia, he might have just signed her death warrant.

She squinted a look of confusion at the change in his expression, but he didn’t dare try to signal anything. His only advantage was that Muwaffaq didn’t know he was onto him. Besides, there was nothing to be gained by panicking Julia.

He sifted through his options.

If he tried to overpower the man, he could easily bring down the chopper. And Muwaffaq was probably armed.

If they landed, he’d have a better chance of overpowering him. But if they landed where Muwaffaq had planned, where reinforcements would certainly meet the chopper, he and Julia would have no chance at all.

He couldn’t risk that.

Whatever he did had to happen in midair.

Adrenaline pumped through his system in time with the throbbing of the engine. He rested his hand in his lap, surreptitiously clicking open the metal buckle on his seat belt.

He painstakingly freed his arm, while making and discarding plans of attack.

But then Muwaffaq caught his movement, and his time was up.

Harrison gave a yell and elbowed Muwaffaq in the center of the throat.

The man’s eyes bugged out, and he gasped a breath, his hands reflexively going for the injury.

“Harrison!” Julia cried out from the backseat as the chopper tilted and the engine whined.

Harrison flipped open the man’s seat-belt buckle, then stretched to close his hands over the controls. He hadn’t flown in at least a year, but all other options had meant certain death.

“Drag him back,” he shouted to Julia, stuffing his feet on top of Muwaffaq’s, scrambling to get some semblance of control over the tail rotor.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, even as she wiggled out of her own seat belt to follow his instructions.

Muwaffaq was gasping for breath. If he recovered from the blow, all hell would break loose.

As Julia clambered between the seats, she got a look at the man’s nose.

She hesitated for a split second, and Muwaffaq took the opportunity and grabbed her by the throat.

Harrison was barely keeping them airborne. He didn’t dare let go of the controls, but Julia was struggling and coughing.

He elbowed Muwaffaq again, this time catching him in the solar plexus.

The man’s grip loosened enough that Julia pulled free and rocketed into the backseat.

“Shit,” Harrison spat out, as Muwaffaq began to fight back.

He risked lifting a foot from the pedals and kicked at the man.

Muwaffaq grunted, and Harrison kicked again.

Then the helicopter door popped open.

Julia screamed.

Harrison gasped.

And Muwaffaq went tumbling into midair, his arms and legs flailing as he plummeted toward the dunes.

Harrison flopped into the pilot’s seat, stabilized the aircraft, then slammed the door shut.

His breathing was labored, and his hands were shaking.

It took him a minute to get them flying straight.

When she finally spoke, Julia’s voice was shaking, barely a rasp. “Is he dead?”