Al-Bayat wasn’t here.
Hud couldn’t believe his luck. This was the ideal scenario. If Hud rescued Layah before the Da’esh executioner arrived, the two of them could escape this nightmare and make a run for the Armenian border.
He parked about thirty feet away from the squad cars. The officers didn’t come out to greet him. Hud couldn’t see anything but two vague shapes through the rear window of the second squad car.
The scene made him uneasy. It was too quiet, but he didn’t have time to do any more reconnaissance. Al-Bayat and his henchmen might arrive any moment. He couldn’t ask his captive to evaluate the situation, either. The man spoke little or no English. Hud made sure the guard’s face was covered with the pillowcase before he exited the vehicle. Moving swiftly, he circled around to the passenger side. He opened the door for the guard, his gun raised. They walked toward the squad cars together.
Hud thought about car bombs and other traps. His last assignment as a SEAL had ended in a huge explosion. He’d been reckless in Telskuf, and he’d paid the price. He was lucky he hadn’t been killed. Now his instincts told him to proceed with caution. He could be walking into another trap.
Hud studied their surroundings as they continued forward. The white boxes in the clearing were for bees. He could hear the faint buzz of insect activity. It was the only sound. Two men were sitting in the front seat of the squad car on the left. Both were facing forward, not looking back. They were way too still for Hud’s tastes. His gut clenched with trepidation.
He decided to make a sharp detour. He cut to the right instead of walking in a direct line toward the squad cars. He entered the clearing and circled around for a better view. As soon as he got a glimpse through the front windshield, his heart dropped.
There was a reason the officers weren’t moving.
They were dead.
Layah wasn’t in either vehicle. She must have been taken to another location and delivered to Al-Bayat. Hud felt a sharp twist in the center of his chest. If he couldn’t save her, nothing else mattered.
Layah had become his entire world. She was his woman. She was his assignment. She was his reason for living.
He would not fail her again.
Hud knew there was trouble coming. He had no more use for the guard, no reason to keep a gun trained on him. The uniform Hud was wearing had helped him cross the border. Now it felt like a target on his back. Al-Bayat would want to keep Hud alive, if only to torture him some more or behead him in a grisly celebration. The guard was disposable, like the police officers. Al-Bayat was clearly cutting ties with his Iranian comrades.
Two men in black emerged from the trees on the opposite side of the dirt lot. Two Da’esh militants with rifles.
“Get down,” Hud said to the guard.
The man didn’t understand, or just didn’t comply. Hud left him standing there and ran toward the clearing, his head ducked low. When he reached the first row of white boxes, he jumped over them and kept going. Bullets tore across the clearing, peppering the ground at Hud’s feet. He hurdled another row of boxes. A third man appeared at the edge of the clearing, cutting off his escape route. Hud dropped to his belly to avoid more gunfire. The box in front of him exploded in a dark swarm.
Angry bees and chaos erupted.
* * *
Layah watched the bridge to Iran disappear behind them.
Her hopes of being rescued plummeted. Hudson couldn’t follow them across the border. They were in Azerbaijan now, on their way to Al-Bayat or whoever was in charge of her fate. Her throat closed up with emotion.
They stopped in a dusty parking lot in a secluded place. She stared out the window and prayed for Hudson, for Ashur and for herself. A voice over the radio broke her concentration. The police officer picked up the receiver to answer.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“They just crossed.”
“Who did?”
“Your guard and his captive.”
The policeman seemed surprised by this news. He thanked the other officer for the notification. “One guard captured your man without any trouble,” he boasted to Layah. “This American is not so smart or strong, is he?”
Hudson had defeated three guards at Nordooz yesterday, but Layah didn’t say that. “Who are we meeting?”
“You’ll see.”
“How can you work for Da’esh monsters? They kill women and children.”
“Propaganda,” he said in a dismissive tone. “How can you sleep with an American? They steal everything they touch.”
“I have not betrayed my people or my country.”
“Silence,” he hissed. “You have no honor, trash woman.”
She watched the officer from the second squad car approach the passenger side. He climbed in to consult with his friend. Although the conversation was in Farsi, Layah understood most of it. The second officer was concerned about the border guard, who wasn’t answering his phone. The first officer insisted that the guard was on his way with Hudson. While they argued about it, a black SUV barreled into the parking lot. Its passenger side window lowered to reveal a masked gunman.
Layah ducked her head, swallowing a scream. The executioner took aim before the officers could draw their weapons. Their deaths were swift and brutal. Blood sprayed into the air like red mist. There was an ominous gurgling sound, then nothing.
Layah cowered in the back seat, but there was no escape. A man dragged her out of the car and tossed her into the SUV. The vehicle drove a short distance before stopping again. She got shoved from the SUV and landed in a heap on the dirt floor of a barn. Straw was scattered all over the ground.
Al-Bayat stood there like a lord in his realm.
