Page 53 of Veiled Fantasies

If Jill was really in there, she was in danger, and a minute wasted could be a minute too late. There was no time to call the police, and there was the possibility of a neighborhood watch, too. The wrong kind of neighborhood watch. He had to act fast.

He peeked around the corner again. There was only one sentry, whose cigarette glowed in the dim half light. Was the man armed? The door barred? Erik took a deep breath. He wanted Jill safe. Out of this place. He had to do it. But how?

His mind flew back to the mandatory military service he’d completed in Sweden a full decade ago. Little good weapons training and marching did him now. What else had there been? Some hand-to-hand combat training, even a mock hostage simulation. How did that go?

He remembered the emphasis on careful planning. Something about superior numbers. Confirmed intelligence reports. All exits covered. Contingency plans.

Right.

He was alone, with no plan whatsoever and no idea what to expect. But he did have two things going for him. Stealth. Surprise.

A moment later, he found a third. Sheer determination.How very American, came the fleeting thought.

It would have to be enough. But if he screwed this up—

No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was good, the sergeant said back then. Even tried to convince him to enlist for real, though Erik had simply laughed it off at the time.

Well, he wasn’t laughing now.

He pulled Jill’s guide book from the backpack, took a deep breath, and strode openly around the corner, straight up to the guard. The man leaped to his feet, his hands gripping a long rifle. Where did that come from?

He hoped to hell his body remembered that move from basic training. The one with the elbow.

He babbled in English and pointed at the guide book as he approached. “I’m looking for the spice souk. I need a present for my girlfriend.”

It had the intended effect, throwing the sentry off guard, drawing his eyes to the book.

Erik waited for the man’s head to dip. There! He whipped his elbow around, spinning from his hips through his shoulders to put his whole body behind a blow aimed at the sentry’s temple. The man dropped with a short cry and a dull thud, rifle clattering down beside him. Erik felt a surge and realized he could remember a lot more if necessary. He blinked at the prone form at his feet and hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

He reached for the rifle and glanced back down the deathly silent alley, then checked the rifle. A brief hesitation. Safety on?

Safety off.

He swung the door open, inch by inch, just enough to slip through, willing it not to give him away with a creak. Ahead, a narrow hallway was lit by a flickering lamp. Curtains draped the doorways on either side, and voices murmured from somewhere on the left. Nothing else but the quiet chink of china and the faint scent of a shisha pipe.

The room with the high window would be somewhere in the back, on the right side. He moved slowly, placing each foot carefully, not daring to make a sound. He’d have a lot of explaining to do if anyone tried to stop him.

Just let them try.

Chapter Eighteen

Jill was ready to kick, scream, scratch the Armenian’s eyes out with the nail file. She would fight to the death. When she spun to face the arms dealer, her eyes found not his surly face, but a clean, blue shirt. She raised her sights.

Erik.

All the hope that had seeped out of her body in the past hours came roaring back in a flood. She was drowning in it, overcome. She wanted to cry in relief, but all that came out was an unsteady croak. That and the choked sound he made; the sound of her name as he reached down and crushed her in his arms. She could have warmed herself for hours in the power gushing off him. Could have held that hug—

Erik pulled back far too quickly. She was about to protest when she caught a glimpse of hard steel. A rifle, slung from his shoulder.

“Erik…” she started and didn’t know quite how to finish. What had he done? What had she gotten him into?

He took her face in both hands, the gentle touch a complete contrast to the hard look in his eyes. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

All the emotions rocketing through her, blind fear, surprise, bottomless relief, melted into one mushy mix that strangled her tears. She wished his two hands could cup all of her at once. Tuck her close and carry her away. “I’m all right.” She managed a light nod, then a firmer one.

Erik studied her face for a long minute before snapping into action. He ran his fingers over the handcuffs and examined the pipes as Jill reshuffled her limbs. He tugged against the pipes, then the cuffs.

“Locked…”

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