Page 78 of Sweet Betrayal

He took out his knife. What he needed was a distraction.

He slunk around to the entrance and was about to whistle to the guard when the pulsing throb of a helicopter made her look up. A Russian-built Mi-17 military chopper was coming in to land. It meant only one thing:

They knew.

No time to waste. He walked straight up behind the guard and plunged his blade into his kidneys. The man let out a grunt and fell to his knees. Tom held a hand over his mouth to stop him shouting for help, but it didn’t take long for the man to lose consciousness.

He dragged him into the tent.

Hannah gasped. “Tom! Thank God.” She didn’t even glance at the dead guard, her eyes were firmly rooted on him.

He rushed over and cut her ties. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” He wanted to hold her, to kiss those trembling lips, but there was no time. “We have to hurry. Anwar is here. That’s his helicopter you can hear landing.”

“Oh, no!”

She jumped up. “What should we do?”

“Follow me.”

They exited the way he’d come in, through the front of the tent. The guard would soon be discovered, but hopefully not before they’d had a chance to hide.

He led her across a sandy patch of ground to where two well-used army SUVs were parked. The one on the left had a windscreen wiper that was lifted off the glass. That was the sign.

Thank you, Ibrahim.

He flicked the blade down and tried the door. It was unlocked. Tom peered inside. The keys were dangling from the ignition.

Yes.

“Get in the back and stay low,” he said. The backseat was narrow and stank of stale sweat.

“Where’s the contact?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He was supposed to meet us here.” He checked his watch. It had been over an hour since he’d left Jamal at the barn. The faction leader had said he’d ask Ibrahim to wait, but perhaps he couldn’t. That’s why he’d left the keys.

Tom jumped in the driver’s seat and started the car. It sprung to life with a deep growl.

“Aren’t we going to wait for him?”

“We can’t. Something must have happened?”

He reversed and then pulled on to the dirt track. If this worked, they would drive out of the Symanian army base in broad daylight. He pulled his cap down low.

The SUV bumped up the track. They were nearly at the gate when an officer motioned for them to stop. Tom hovered with his foot over the ignition. If he floored it, he could make it out of the gate before the officer knew what was happening. Exceptthey’d send a convoy after them, and he didn’t know the roads in this area.

Damnit.

He slowed to a halt.

“What’s happening,” Hannah whispered.

“Stay down,” he snapped.

The officer approached the window. He said something in Arabic. Tom reached for his gun and held it just below the ledge. If he discharged it flush against the man’s chest, it would muffle most of the blast.

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