die.
Someone knew he had that file.
Someone made sure it was never leaked.
Now I pray that same someone doesn’t know I have a copy of it.
I flop back on the bed feeling exhausted and frustrated. Not having Mandi feeding me small bits of information is different. It’s like flying blind. On the other hand, I have a real-life handler of sorts in the form of a six-foot-one man-child. This was supposed to be easier with Mark not harder.
With my eyes closed, I think back to the mission in Afghanistan. It was by far my hardest assignment. It helps that I have naturally olive skin, almost black hair, and an exotic look. It allows me to blend in almost any region of the world. I can play up my attributes depending on the assignment. My father used to joke that I was the ultimate chameleon. It’s more than looking the part; it’s knowing the job. I don’t always have to look the part, but I need to play the part.
“I can not help you once you are in the compound,” my asset reminds me again. He’s worried about leading me into a situation I can’t handle. It’s almost cute. However, at this point there’s no turning back. I have strict orders to get any information on whom Mazir is working with and his location. Losing someone isn’t a situation the agency takes lightly. I need to reassure him and then move forward.
“Just remember the story, Khalil. It will be fine.”
He sighs and looks down. “I don’t like this. I’m putting my family in grave danger. If you are caught, it will not go well.”
My hand rests on his arm. “No one will find out. Not if we stick to the story.” I pause and wait for him to acknowledge. We’ve spent months fabricating the details to align. He nods in agreement.
My cover is uncomplicated. “I’m your niece who’s been studying in Europe. I’m home because I couldn’t stand to be away any longer, but that left me as a burden since my parents have died. You get them to take me in to pay off the debts I owe, and I’ll get what I need before anything can happen to your family.”
“They won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“I’m not scared.” And I’m not. It’s a chance I take every time I go on assignment. There are times I’ve seriously wondered if I would make it out alive, but that’s when my training comes in. That’s when I strip down the situation and let my instincts take over.
Khalil has been feeding me small bits of information for six months. I realize he’s reached the maximum of what he can discover. Someone must go inside to learn more. He’s not willing to do what needs to be done—and I don’t blame him. If he’s caught, he’ll lose his life. I have no plans to blow my cover.
“They will want you to cook and clean . . . I can’t protect you.”
“Trust me,” I implore. “I know how to be careful. I’m Fahima Salib, and it’s time for me to help the family the only way I can.”
Khalil nods as we walk down the street toward Mazir’s last known location.
The heat is absolutely ridiculous. I’m sweating like a pig. I open my eyes to see why the air has stopped working only to find something—someone—has me pinned against the mattress. My heart accelerates when I realize it’s Mark’s arms. The moonlight shines through the window and across his face.
He’s peaceful, calm, and for once—quiet. His arms encircle me as he lies on his side. I twist cautiously in his heavy embrace until I face him. I hate being spooned or being cuddled. I don’t like to feel trapped, but it’s different in his arms. I’m careful not to wake him as the desire to touch him mounts. My hand lifts and I gently push the hair off his face with my fingertips. The silky strands glide back and his arms tighten. I smile and wish things could be different for us.
In another life, I’d date him. We could stroll down the street, hold hands, and laugh. But I have a red target on my back. I’ll forever be watched, possibly even hunted. I can’t bring
Someone knew he had that file.
Someone made sure it was never leaked.
Now I pray that same someone doesn’t know I have a copy of it.
I flop back on the bed feeling exhausted and frustrated. Not having Mandi feeding me small bits of information is different. It’s like flying blind. On the other hand, I have a real-life handler of sorts in the form of a six-foot-one man-child. This was supposed to be easier with Mark not harder.
With my eyes closed, I think back to the mission in Afghanistan. It was by far my hardest assignment. It helps that I have naturally olive skin, almost black hair, and an exotic look. It allows me to blend in almost any region of the world. I can play up my attributes depending on the assignment. My father used to joke that I was the ultimate chameleon. It’s more than looking the part; it’s knowing the job. I don’t always have to look the part, but I need to play the part.
“I can not help you once you are in the compound,” my asset reminds me again. He’s worried about leading me into a situation I can’t handle. It’s almost cute. However, at this point there’s no turning back. I have strict orders to get any information on whom Mazir is working with and his location. Losing someone isn’t a situation the agency takes lightly. I need to reassure him and then move forward.
“Just remember the story, Khalil. It will be fine.”
He sighs and looks down. “I don’t like this. I’m putting my family in grave danger. If you are caught, it will not go well.”
My hand rests on his arm. “No one will find out. Not if we stick to the story.” I pause and wait for him to acknowledge. We’ve spent months fabricating the details to align. He nods in agreement.
My cover is uncomplicated. “I’m your niece who’s been studying in Europe. I’m home because I couldn’t stand to be away any longer, but that left me as a burden since my parents have died. You get them to take me in to pay off the debts I owe, and I’ll get what I need before anything can happen to your family.”
“They won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“I’m not scared.” And I’m not. It’s a chance I take every time I go on assignment. There are times I’ve seriously wondered if I would make it out alive, but that’s when my training comes in. That’s when I strip down the situation and let my instincts take over.
Khalil has been feeding me small bits of information for six months. I realize he’s reached the maximum of what he can discover. Someone must go inside to learn more. He’s not willing to do what needs to be done—and I don’t blame him. If he’s caught, he’ll lose his life. I have no plans to blow my cover.
“They will want you to cook and clean . . . I can’t protect you.”
“Trust me,” I implore. “I know how to be careful. I’m Fahima Salib, and it’s time for me to help the family the only way I can.”
Khalil nods as we walk down the street toward Mazir’s last known location.
The heat is absolutely ridiculous. I’m sweating like a pig. I open my eyes to see why the air has stopped working only to find something—someone—has me pinned against the mattress. My heart accelerates when I realize it’s Mark’s arms. The moonlight shines through the window and across his face.
He’s peaceful, calm, and for once—quiet. His arms encircle me as he lies on his side. I twist cautiously in his heavy embrace until I face him. I hate being spooned or being cuddled. I don’t like to feel trapped, but it’s different in his arms. I’m careful not to wake him as the desire to touch him mounts. My hand lifts and I gently push the hair off his face with my fingertips. The silky strands glide back and his arms tighten. I smile and wish things could be different for us.
In another life, I’d date him. We could stroll down the street, hold hands, and laugh. But I have a red target on my back. I’ll forever be watched, possibly even hunted. I can’t bring
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