Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125 (7 page)

"What's this?"

"Change in plans.  We're going native. 
When in Rome
and all that shit."

Sarah opened the bag and saw nothing but black.  She reached inside.  Her shopping skills had refined her sense of touch.  Silk, rayon, and a wool blend.  She rolled her eyes at Will.  "You got me fabric?"

"Abaya and
niqab
.
  You can't tell the difference between one woman and another when they're all wearing these."

Sarah shook her head at the convenience and simple genius of it all. 

Perfect.

Will dropped the other bag into the front seat.  "That one is for you.  They already saw me with Sarah.  If you and she are dressed like the locals, they'll lose her trail and be stuck with me. 
Better for us to be one target and two defenders than two targets and a bodyguard."

Brian looked into the rear view mirror at Sarah.  "Three paces behind me, woman."

"All the better to look at your ass."

Brian grinned.  "Oh, baby.  You know I love it when you talk naughty."

~~~

After the incident in
Dubai
, Will called the Burj al Arab and managed to arrange a last minute charter jet to
Riyadh
,
Saudi Arabia
.  When they landed, Sarah and Will emerged dressed to the nines in formal attire with a natively attired Brian looking the dutiful bodyguard.  An armored sedan waited for them at the airport, courtesy of yet another of Will’s
contacts.

Brian pulled
up at the American embassy in
Riyadh
.  "Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?"

Will
plucked
a stray hair from his tux.  "It's an American embassy, Brian.  We'll be checked for weapons when we go in.  Better you should stay here and keep those high caliber friends nearby.  Just stay alert.  Don't pull a Scarface and get distracted by some bimbo in the parking lot."

"Hey now, I only did that once and I was off duty.  Nobody got hurt."  Brian gazed up at the ceiling of the sedan and rubbed the short beard he’d been growing since he left
Las Vegas
for the
Middle East
.  "What was her name?"  He shook it off.  "I got your back."  He turned and eyed Sarah from over the front seat.  She wore a long, black, low-cut gown that maximized her favorite assets.  "You look like a million bucks, Black Betty."

Seeing Brian dressed in traditional robes and headdress and saying something like that just seemed laughable, so Sarah did.  "Thanks, Bri.  You look like a whole different guy.  Whatcha got on under those robes anyway?"

He raised a playful eyebrow.  "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Okay."  Will interrupted their flirty banter. 
"Money time.
  Let's go find this Davidson guy and get back so we can go get Vince."

Sarah took a deep breath.  She'd been trying to keep her mood light, knowing that her stress only stressed the team as well.  The knowledge of what Vince might be going through was always there.  "Yeah, let's do it."

Sarah and Will made their way through several security stations before strolling into the ballroom.  They instinctively paused just inside the door of the sunken room to check the crowd of attendees while they had a height advantage. 

Sarah noted the positions of the security cameras covering the ballroom and pointed them out to Will. 

"Don't worry, pork chop.  So long as there isn't a scene here, nobody is going to review the security camera footage.  We'll be long gone before they ever realize we were here." 

So much for security
.

After a few moments, they walked the three steps down into the ballroom and began looking for Davidson.

Will grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and handed one to Sarah. 

She sipped the dry, bubbly nectar, anxious to take the edge off.  "How are we supposed to find this guy?"

"He said he had our files and would find us if we didn't meet him right away."

Sarah scowled and spoke through her teeth.  "Nice.  I don't feel so comfortable with that
don't find me, I'll find you
stuff."

Will took a sip from his glass as he scanned the room.  "Yeah, I know.  Not exactly ideal but it’s all we got."

They slowly walked through the ballroom hoping to hear a conversation that identified someone there as Davidson. 

Sarah stopped a passing waiter to leave her half-full glass on his tray. 

No sense carrying this around.  With my luck, somebody will back into me and spill it on my dress.  Two ruined designer dresses in two days I don't need.

She looked around and heard a man's voice carrying from a few clusters of people to her left.

"Okay, I've got a great one for you.  A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says
'so, what's with the long face?’
"  The man grinned and waited for the polite chuckles that finally came. 

Luckily for him, a buxom, blond bombshell showed up and took over the crowd.  "Speaking of horses, I understand the Prince's stallion has been having a very good season."  She looked at the man in robes who was as wide as he was tall.  "You must be very pleased."

Sarah tried to ignore the dull conversations and boorish jokes and listened for some reference to Davidson so they could find the guy, get the information they needed and bust Vince out of Nikolai's clutches.

"Are you enjoying the party?"  Sarah looked to her left where the voice came from.  She smiled a tolerant smile and met the gaze of the horse joke guy.  "It's lovely, thank you.  And you?"

Will closed the gap and appeared quietly at her side snaking his arm gently around her waist.

His touch and familiar scent reassured her.

The man nodded at Will and then swigged down what was left of his drink in the short, etched crystal glass.  "I always enjoy a party."

The buxom blond walked up to the horse joke guy.  "Honey, the Ambassador has someone he'd like you to meet.  They're over by the East entrance."  She straightened his tie and gave him a stern look.  "Don't ever tell that joke again."

"What's wrong with the joke?"

The blond just smiled at him like a mother might smile indulgently at a child.  "The Ambassador is waiting, darling."

He shook his head and sighed. 
"Probably some policy wonk."
  He nodded to Sarah and Will. 
"If you'll excuse me."

The blond extended a hand to Sarah and grinned as though she were on the pageant circuit.  "I'm Buffy."

"Nice to meet you, Buffy.
  I'm Sarah and this is Will."

"I know.  We've been waiting for you."  Buffy handed Sarah a calling card.  The name on it was 'Buffy Davidson' and there was an address below the name.  "Mark and I would love it if you'd join us for a nightcap after the party."

Dread washed over Sarah.

Will
took
the lead.  "Buffy, we were really hoping to get back early tonight.  Is there any way we could visit with Mark privately for a few minutes?"

Loud laughter came from the East corner of the ballroom. 

Sarah looked over and saw that it was Davidson again, the horse joke guy.  She and Will shared a disappointed glance.

"I'm sorry.  That just won't be possible here.  Meet us at this address after the party.  We'll have some drinks and a few laughs."

Sarah's heart sank to the soles of her
Manolo
Blahniks
.  She gave Buffy a weak smile and acquiesced with a nod.  "We'll see you later then."

Buffy was suddenly distracted like a kitten
who'd
just spotted a butterfly.  "Pamela!"

And she disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter Fifteen

Vince was escorted to a large, black marble bathroom where he was allowed to shower at gunpoint.  The water washing over him gave his mind pause to escape back to happier times.  He remembered the one rainy day he and Sarah spent together in
Italy
.  He'd built a fire in the master suite's fireplace, and they spent the whole day in that room, exploring each other's bodies and making love.  It was a very good day. 

Vince grabbed the fresh bar of soap.  He put it to his nose.  It was simple.  There was no fragrance, just the smell of clean.  A scent he hadn't smelled in several days.

This is just another delay.  We'll take care of Nikolai and then Sarah and I can run away and never look back.

After he dried off, Vince wrapped the towel around his waist and ran a hand over his now bearded chin. 

How many days has it been?

He looked up at the guard and hoped for the best.  "Any chance I could shave too?"

"No
blades,
mate.  We don't invite trouble."

Invite trouble?  You stupid son of a bitch, you've already invited more trouble than you can possibly handle. 
Giving me a blade and letting me walk out the front door is pretty much your only option for survival.

"Looks to me like you've already sent those invitations out, pal."

The Aussie glared at Vince.  "You think so?"

A smile curled Vince's lips for the first time in days. 
"Oh, yeah."

There was a glint of light off metal and pain shot through his head as the Aussie hit him in the face with the butt of his gun and hard steel hit with the force of a baseball bat.  He fell to the floor and scrambled to get up, looking
around for anything he could use as a weapon.  Unless he could pull the toilet from the floor, there was nothing. 

The guard tilted his head.  "You talk tough for a guy who's about to be in a world of hurt.  You want some more?"

"Nah."
  Vince groaned as he stood and looked in the mirror at his quickly swelling cheek and eye.

No blood, no infection. 
Could be worse
.

"Shaving is overrated."  He pulled on his dirty jeans and T-shirt, wishing he could have washed those too, and left the bathroom as instructed by the guard.

The Australian escorted him to a dining room dripping with velvet tapestries where Nikolai waited at a table set for two with gold plates and flatware. 
Crystal
goblets with gold rims sparkled under the crystal chandelier.  

Nikolai stared at Vince's face.  "Run into some trouble?"

Vince felt the tightness in his swelling cheek as he smiled at Nikolai.  "My friend here was just extolling the virtues of growing a beard."

"I'm glad you saw things his way.  Any more of that and I couldn't possibly let you dine with me."

"It was hard not to.  He had a very convincing argument."  Vince moved to the only other place setting at the table, across from Nikolai, and pulled out the chair.  "What's for dinner?"

"Why don't we start with a drink?"

Vince tried to stay positive.  He knew full well this could be his last supper and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.  "I'd love one, thanks."

Nikolai motioned to the woman standing in the corner, quiet as a piece of furniture.  "Bashira, bring Mr. Hennessee a drink."

Vince had barely noticed the silent woman in the abaya. 

She quickly mixed and delivered a vodka martini to Vince.  She barely made a sound as she walked across the floor.

Vodka.
 
Should have known
.

Vince tried to be kind.  Being a servant in this house had to be a miserable existence.  "Thank you, Bashira."

She made brief eye contact with Vince and quickly
turned away.
 

That's a fresh bruise on
her cheek that'll be a big green lump in a couple days. 

"I see we have something in common, Bashira.  Is your bruise courtesy of that big Australian brute too?"

Bashira pulled up the face scarf of her plain, black
niqab
and
scurried back to her corner with her head down.

"You really should treat your help better than that, Nikolai.  If you aren't careful, they might kill you in your sleep."  Vince raised his glass as if to toast the idea and then took a drink of the martini. 
"Mm, very good.
 
My compliments."

"Thank you.  And I'll thank you not to put ridiculous thoughts into the servants' heads.  They know what will happen if they step out of line."  Nikolai finished his drink in a single gulp.  "Vince you've had time to think.  I'm sure you've put everything into perspective by now."

"Yeah, I've got perspective."

Bashira replaced Nikolai's empty glass with a fresh martini without even making a footfall on the floor.