Page 11 of Dalla's Royal Guards
Musad, Colin, and Nasser watched as two men rose from where they were sitting on a makeshift wooden bench under the shade of the trees. One man called out a cheerful greeting. Musad stepped forward and tossed him the bow rope as the boat gently bounced against the side of a white bumper tied to the dock.
“This is Henri and that is Enrique. They are Nanna’s nephews on her brother Audre’s side. Don’t ask them about their names. Our uncle had a strange sense of humor,” Manny introduced.
“We have the cars,” Enrique said as a greeting. “Our cousin Colette and a few of her friends are dropping the others off at the location you requested.”
Manny scowled. “You trusted Colette?”
Musad paused in the process of handing one of their bags to Colin and looked back and forth between Henri and Manny. Henri looked amused. Manny… horrified.
“What is wrong with Colette?” he asked.
Manny shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered.
Henri laughed. “Colette likes to drive fast, and so do her friends, but she promised not to draw attention. She knows what rides on this. The vehicles will be there, and no one will be any the wiser.”
“I’ll head back out and meet up with them. We’ll keep you posted on the troop movements,” Manny said.
“Sounds good. Keep your head down,” Henri called.
“Always,” Manny retorted with a laugh.
The group of men watched in silence as Manny untied the bow rope and skillfully navigated the skiff back the way they had come. Enrique sighed and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his loose-fitting white cotton trousers. Musad raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
“I don’t know what Manny has told you on the way here, but getting out of the country might be a bit more challenging. The situation has changed,” Enrique warned.
“What do you mean?” Nasser asked.
“The mercenary group that Hellman hired has closed off all major exits to the city. I told Manny to bring you here because the main bridge leading into the city has been shut down. They’ve got troops patrolling the inlet. They are also doing a sweep of the city,” Enrique explained.
“We need to contact Donovan and warn him,” Musad said.
Nasser nodded. “Colin, contact Donovan. Tell him to move to Plan B.”
“Yes, sire,” Colin said.
Colin grabbed the bag with the satellite phone, climbed the short wooden steps up the bank, and connected with Donovan. Plan B was trickier. Instead of eight men on the mission, it would be the three of them—plus Manny’s cousins.
“Are you sure Nanna and Cianna are safe?” Nasser asked Henri as they climbed the steps.
Henri nodded. “For now. I’m not sure how much longer. Hellman is determined to find them.”
Musad listened as Henri explained that Nanna had escaped to the downtown market, losing their tail among the hundreds of colorful carts and storefronts. They were hiding in an apartment above a spice dealer that belonged to a longtime friend of the family.
Coarse sand crunched under his feet as they traversed through a maze of abandoned cars. Some had been used for parts, while others had been crushed and piled like blocks on top of each other. Musad didn’t miss the strategic placement of the discarded vehicles, nor the narrow openings woven between them to give either an escape route or strategic positions of coverif needed. He should have done a deeper background check into the brothers.
“Which of you were in the military?” he inquired.
Enrique grinned. “Both of us. I was in Kashir’s Special Forces. Henri served a few years in the French Foreign Legion.”
Musad nodded, his gaze moving to Henri. He noticed that he walked with a slight limp. The man must have sensed his scrutiny because he glanced over his shoulder. There was a hard glint in Henri’s eyes that most would miss under his cheerful demeanor.
He bowed his head in understanding. Some things were best left unspoken. They crossed to a small, white concrete building with narrow windows covered with rebar. The interior was refreshingly cool and surprisingly sparse and neat.
“This is for show,” Enrique murmured.
Enrique crossed the narrow room to a bookcase and reached under it with the toe of his boot. A faint click preceded the smooth swing of the bookcase. An opening appeared, cut through the concrete foundation. Through the opening, Musad could see a narrow staircase leading downward.
“This way,” Henri instructed before descending the narrow, wooden steps.
