"Cut the innocent crap, little sister." Hyatt's words trembled with impatience and rising volume until heads started to turn toward her. "Your lies this week pretty much negate the act."
Yasmine's brows pulled together, her attention skipping from person to person in the room. She blinked faster, then her eyes widened, brows relaxing apart again. "She's one of the hostages?" Her voice grew louder, higher with each word. "Is she?'' She directed the question at Drew, at the trio of Air Force officers in the corner. "Did Ammar take my sister Sydney?"
Silence echoed a loud affirmation.
"No." The lone word held more pain than any speech. Her hand clamped against her mouth just before she doubled over.
If this was still an act, it was a damned good one. He stomped the spark of sympathy even as he wanted to believe her horror was real. Damn, but did he ever need it to be true, for her, for himself so he wasn't the same dumb-ass fool he'd been all those years ago with Glenna. And for some reason he refused to let himself analyze, the betrayal cut deeper this time.
It had to be because stakes were higher now, more people depending on him not to screw up. By God, he would not let himself go soft.
Once Yasmine straightened again, Hyatt cocked her head to the side and continued. "It sure would be all nice and pretty if you're telling the truth. But you know what? Even if you're not lying this time, you understand what Ammar al-Khayr is capable of. You put everyone in here who was helping you at greater risk by keeping silent."
Hyatt's composure deflated. Her shoulders sagged, dark circles under her eyes matching her sister's in an ironic sibling resemblance of grief. "Yeah, getting Sydney out of here is personal for me. But what about the hundreds of other people here who've never laid eyes on her and are selflessly willing to die for her? For you, too." Her voice cracked. "What about the young man who died last night?"
Hyatt's teeth clamped together on a hiss and she spun away.
Keagan shoved up from the desk. "Okay, people. Let's take a breather, grab some coffee from the mess hall, shake off the dust and start again."
The Air Force officers all banded together around their own, leading Hyatt out into the hall. The doorway stood open, an Army guard to the side, an unspoken message that Yasmine wasn't free to leave.
Drew hooked his thumb in his M-16 strap, but didn't move. Why the hell hadn't he made tracks out for Java, as well? God knows he could use some.
Shit. Damned women. He snagged another file off the desk from beside his Land Mobile Radio and buried his face in weather report data.
"I am sorry." She spoke softly, her meaning clear enough for him but vague enough if the guard happened to overhear.
"I'm sure you are," Drew answered without looking up. "But it's too little, too late."
"You don't believe I want to leave here?"
"Oh, I absolutely believe you want to leave." He clapped the file closed. "But you should have listened to what your sister had to say about why we do what we do."
Drew leaned closer, to keep their conversation private as well as to make his point while proving to himself he could be near her. Smell her. And not take her. "You didn't have to waste the energy playing me. I would have fought to the death to help you escape here even if you'd been a ninety-year-old woman with only three days left to live."
The fire in her eyes died. Tears pooled. The first all-out ones he'd ever seen from her.
Fool me once...
He pivoted away from her and her tear-filled eyes, pitching the folder to skid across the desk to rest beside his LMR.
On cue, the radio crackled with an incoming call for him and he returned his focus to his job, something that grew increasingly difficult with every day he spent with this woman. "Alpha, here. Over."
"Sir, there's some activity going on you need to check out. Looks like the camp's packing up. Intel indicates they'll be on the move anytime now."
Chapter 17
Dusk. Not dark. Damn it.
Helmet bag in hand, Jack strode toward the pickup trucks that would carry the crews out to the airplanes. As much as he wanted to get this mission under way, he would give his left nut to be taking off a few hours later. Deeper into the night as originally planned for the maximum element of surprise. But with an impending sandstorm and camp activity indicating a move...they would just have to pray like hell that the evening would be dark enough and that everyone turned in early to rest up for their big moving day.
The door creaked open behind him, likely more crew dogs filing out to fill the two waiting trucks.
"Jack!" Monica's voice stalled him in his tracks. "Jack, wait."
He turned to find her rushing toward him. Breathless. Not her normal composed self. Her caramel hair swished along her shoulders, down and in defiance of military regs. Unease boxed around in his gut. She'd been through hellacious stress the past months and now faced the most tense of times in her own profession. Had he made the wrong decision in letting her come? Not that she'd left him any choice.
Monica stopped short, hair whipping all around her face in the wind, stray strands reaching out to brush his face. "I just wanted to say goodbye. Good luck. Kick some serious ass out there for me."