Page 3 of Zain

A fleet of pickup trucks rounded the street corner, dust billowing in their wake. Black flags danced high as the wind whipped them proudly, and the white symbols coupled with the assault rifles in the men’s hands were as threatening as a swastika.

“Oh god,” Dana mumbled.

Regret wasn’t something that struck her often. But right now, it was fermenting deep in her gut. She tried to tug her wrist from Brick’s hold, themovement involuntary and desperate. “We need to go,” she hissed over the din.

His jaw hardened beneath his unkempt beard. “It’s too late.”

He was right. The vehicles had boxed in the crowd. Tears stung her eyes as she watched men leap from the back of the pickups waving their guns angrily. Dust particles swarmed like angry bees. Dana’s burka protected her skin from the sting, but not her lungs.

Fear anchored her feet to the spot. She couldn’t run. Couldn’t hide. Couldn’t take back the decision they’d made.

There was no other way to find him. It wasn’t as if terrorist groups had goddamn employee directories. Dana pictured the last image she’d seen of Zain. The photo depicted a similar situation, though it had been taken months prior. Jaysh had come to break up a protest and silence people with fear. Someone’s cell phone camera had caught Zain’s profile as he’d pointed his gun at the innocent crowd.

With his description fresh in her mind, she rapidly scanned the dozens of men shouting threats at the civilians. Zain was six foot four—not a small guy—and of Lebanese descent. His dark hair and olive skin would blend in here, but hopefully his size would make him easy to spot.

The people yelled back, and one Jaysh leader standing on the back of a truck aimed his gun atthe sky and fired bullets in rapid succession.

Dana clapped her free hand over one of her ears. Each blast increased her heart rate.

Brick’s hold bit into her wrist. He bent his face close to her ear. “I don’t see him!” he shouted.

She couldn’t respond. He’d have a hard time hearing her through her burka and over the rioting. The gunshots hadn’t calmed the crowd. They’d only angered them more.

The leader who’d fired the weapon glowered at the people. Rage contorted his face. Menace shimmered in his dark eyes. He leapt off the back of the vehicle and advanced on one of the loud men in the clusters of people in front of them.

He snagged him by the cloak at his throat and hauled him to the front of the crowd. The man’s face turned pale as the terrorist leader shouted ferociously. Spit flew from his lips. The protestors’ hollers of defiance became cries of indignation. A woman pleaded for the man’s life.

Dana curled her free hand around Brick’s forearm. They could shoot everyone in the crowd just for disobedience. Tears stung her eyes, and her breath wheezed in and out of her lungs. The man’s desperate gaze searched the men and women calling for his release.

The leader shoved the man to his knees, brought the gun to the back of his head, and fired.

Chaos erupted. People rushed up from the back of the crowd, throwing Dana against Brick’s side.His hold on her tightened, but they both got carried forward. Dana let go of Brick’s forearm so she could brace herself against the person in front of her.

Weight slammed against her back, and she stumbled to the ground. Dana cried out as her knees connected with the dirt. Pain shot down her shins.

Angry feet and legs bumped and kicked against her as the riot intensified. Dust clouded around her as she tried to get her feet under her before she got trampled. Brick caught her firmly under the arms and hauled her against him. He shoved people away, his brown eyes wide with uncertainty.

Another wave of people made Brick stumble. Dana was forced to move with the crowd or get trampled. Bodies crushed her on all sides. Panic shot through her. A scream caught in her throat. If she didn’t find a way out of the mob, she’d be killed.

Using all her strength to push against the backs of the people in front of her, she craned her neck in search of Brick.

Jaysh members screamed and yielded weapons. The leader once again grabbed an innocent man. This time, the crowd settled. Some of the pressure on Dana’s back eased, and she pushed her way through the group. Scanning each bobbing head, she looked for Brick. If she could just—

Her gaze landed on a hulking man. One of theterrorists. His wide shoulders and muscular frame stood out. A gasp hit the back of her throat.

A pakol hat covered his dark hair, and his thick and full beard almost hid the chiseled line of his jaw, but the bone structure was recognizable. Her insides stirred with wonder. The cries of the people fell away from her ears. No sound penetrated Dana’s brain.

Could it be him?

Before she could get a good look at his eyes, he swiveled to face one of the Jaysh leaders. She needed to get closer.

Elbowing her way forward, she reached the front row. Blood sprayed the barren ground, and a woman knelt next to the dead man’s body. Dana shuddered. She’d come this far. All she had to do was confirm it was him. Then find a way to talk to him. And, of course, get him away from his... captors?

She didn’t want to think about the brainwashing Jaysh could have done on Rami’s brother. Didn’t want to acknowledge that the Green Beret soldier could very well be deeply entrenched in a terrorist group and have no desire to leave.

The man she suspected was Zain waved off the leader he’d spoken to and turned to face the crowd again. She stood within arm’s reach. Close enough that she could spot the lines of ink jutting out from his collar. She couldn’t be sure they were Zain’s tattoos, but they were in the right location.

She needed to see his eyes. She’d studied his golden irises for months. All she needed was one good look to be sure...

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