Satellites and portable drones made your straightforward escapes all the more complicated, and the routes required stealth, cunning, doubling back, bribery, and whatever other incantations you could conjure up — including some low-tech trunk smuggling that made her feel like a drug runner or illegal border crosser.
Thus, when it came to escape, she had no ego. That she had foiled them was enough. The
“It’s okay. I’m not scared of them. I hope you do not lie to me. I want the rest of the money.”
“You’ll have it when we get back. You’d better spend it on your family — and not on hookers and booze.”
“I will. I promise you.”
She had no plans to double-cross the driver. She’d learned he had a family and two small daughters, even if he was lusting after his passengers. She would keep her word. She closed her eyes and remembered the promise she’d made to Nikolai at the moment of his passing:
Chopra’s plane wouldn’t arrive for another ninety minutes, so he planned to spend the time at Seychelles International Airport, tucked discreetly away in a corner seat. All he could think about was Warda’s safety and whether he really would reconnect with the young sheikh. He’d sent Westerdale back to the hotel, and the man had called to say that the police had cordoned off the place and he couldn’t get close.
“And let me remind you, Manoj. You’d best retrieve some documentation — if you know what I mean. You cannot waltz into London as Manoj Chopra. You must assume they know who you are. And now they’ll believe that if they get to you, they’ll get to him.”
Chopra sighed deeply. “You’re right.”
“We’ve worked together for a while, and I’ve actually grown fond of you, my friend. Please don’t get yourself killed.”
“I’ll be careful.”
At the first sign of local police activity, Brent had ordered Riggs to evac the Banyan Tree — and to take the woman Warda with her. Riggs said it was a bit more complicated than that. Warda had three other women who worked for her, as well as two other bodyguards.
“Bodyguards? Who the hell is she?”
“Somebody important, I guess.”
“Well, get the whole party out of there,” Brent had ordered.
Another report came in from Schleck regarding Haussler’s team. They’d continued to flee south, where they’d boarded a few Zodiacs, taken them directly east, and then simply vanished.
“Say what?”
“The Zodiacs are empty and lying adrift,” repeated Schleck.
“Submarine extraction?” Brent guessed.
“Or maybe the rapture,” said Schleck. “But I think a sub is more likely.”
The team rendezvoused back on their yacht — an eighty-two-foot luxury sailing vessel with a reduced crew of four borrowed from the JSF navy.
Once onboard, Brent was accosted by the Splinter Cells, who demanded to be present while he questioned Warda.
“Let me see if I can soften her up first,” he told George.
“Captain, we’re experts at interrogation.”
“So am I.”
“Then let’s go.”
Brent blocked the man’s path. “Too many people will intimidate her.”
“Then I’ll do it,” snapped George.
“We’re back to me pulling rank?”
George frowned. “All right, Captain, but you’re bound to share everything.”
Brent tensed. “Of course.”
He met up with the woman belowdecks and was relieved to speak with her alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dennison or the Splinter Cells; he didn’t trust anyone, and as he’d told George, Warda might zip up with a bunch of hard-faced guys leering at her.
So he wore his best sympathetic look and offered her some tea. He apologized once more for the loss of her friend and bodyguard, then said slowly, “We came to Mahe looking for a woman.”
“Can I ask who you are?”
He was impressed by the steel in her tone but kept his soft. “My name is Brent, and I guess it’s kind of obvious that I work for the American military.”
“Is this an interrogation? Have I been kidnapped?”
“Of course not. We’re just here to talk, then you’re free to go, but given recent events, I think you should remain with us. We’ll keep you safe.”
She probed him with her gaze. “I hope so.”
“Believe it.”
“So what do you want from me?”
Brent leaned toward her. “You asked if I worked for Manoj. Who’s he?”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can say anything else.”
“You have to trust me. I know that’s not easy, but something’s going on here. It’s a lot bigger than you and I, and I’m sure you understand that.”
“Oh, I understand. But maybe you don’t understand how I’ve lived my life for the past five years. You have no idea. All of this is insane. This is not a life.”
“We know who you are,” Brent confessed. “And actually, I have orders to protect you at all costs. You want a life? We can give you a new one.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then prove it to me. Give me your gun.”
That drew out his frown. “Warda, I’m a soldier and a pretty good one. I do not give up my weapon. I’m sorry.”
She mulled that over. “I guess I should respect that. And you did save me.”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
“So I’ll tell you what you need, then you’ll just kill me. Maybe staying quiet is what’ll keep me alive.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. “I won’t hurt you.”
After a moment, she blushed and averted her gaze.
Brent rose and pulled a bottle of water from a small refrigerator. He offered her one, then took a seat and leaned back on the sofa as a knock came at the door. “Who is it?”
“Schleck, sir.” The young sniper opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Dennison got a laser on that boat’s engines. Nice little fires. If she’s onboard, she’s hiding below. We’re heading over now.”
“Excellent.”
“What’s happening?” asked Warda.
“We’re after a woman who’s very important to us.”
“Will you kill her?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why is she so important?”
Brent smiled, unable to tell her, of course. “She came to the Seychelles for a reason. Maybe the same reason you’re here. Who’s Manoj?”
She pursed her lips and studied him again, as though trying to decide if the color of his eyes made him trustworthy. His gaze grew more emphatic, and he began to nod. “Warda, please, there isn’t much time.”
“There never is. I used to say that to my father all the time. But he never believed me…”
