Desire In The Desert. Ryshia Kennie

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leaned forward.

      “What’s going on?”

      Dell shook his head. His attention was focused on the road but a tendon in his neck stood out and his grip on the wheel was tighter than required for the driving conditions of a low-traffic road bordering the outskirts of the city. Tension seemed to run through the vehicle. “I don’t like that Rover,” he grumbled. “Don’t ask me why.”

      The Land Rover was the only vehicle besides theirs on the road. It was ahead of them, having turned in from a side road only minutes ago. From the moment it had moved in front of them there seemed to be an instinctive reaction by everyone in the Hummer. It was a feeling that was common in the field, one he’d discussed with his brothers and one they had all agreed had validity. Instinct was what many modern men ignored and one in which the Al-Nassar brothers and their associates had committed to never sweeping aside. In fact, it was what had been the difference between success and tragedy on a number of occasions.

      Other than the fact that it was moving slowly along the road, there was nothing overtly threatening about the Rover. The back window was tinted and they couldn’t see inside. That fact alone had Emir moving his hand to the shoulder strap beneath his jacket and the reassuring feel of gunmetal.

      He looked at Kate. She didn’t look at him, but instead her attention was riveted on the steel-gray Land Rover. Something was off and he didn’t like it.

      “Why in Allah’s name are they moving so slow?” Dell asked, his voice troubled.

      “Something’s not right.” Kate pulled her Colt from its holster.

      “I’m going to pull back,” Dell said as the Land Rover maintained its rather slow speed, as if taunting them to pass.

      In the Hummer the tension had just moved into overdrive, everyone poised for a threat that had yet to be determined.

      The silence in the Hummer was thick. Emir glanced at Kate. There was no give in her posture and her jawline and lips were tight, her eyes focused ahead, her gun in her hand. Tension seemed to tick between them like a bomb about to explode. His finger twitched. Behind them was a stretch of empty road, but that could change at any moment.

      Without warning the Rover stopped and Dell had no choice but to hit the brakes or go around. Without a backward glance to see if they were on board with the decision, Dell put the Hummer in reverse, taking them away from the Land Rover.

      Emir’s instinct sent prickles down his spine. None of this made sense. His eyes were fixed on the vehicle ahead of them that was now flipped around so that it blocked the road.

      “What the...?” Dell reached for his gun and the driver’s door almost at the same time as their vehicle stopped. “They’re blocking us.”

      He had no worries about Dell, who, as a former soldier in the Moroccan military, knew how to not only take care of others but how to take care of himself. It was the guidelines Emir had used to hire many of his security and why it had been such a shock to hear of Tara’s kidnapping. He’d surrounded her with the best.

      His hand was on the door handle and his other pulling his gun from its holster when a shot was fired from someone in the Rover. It narrowly missed Dell. They’d been right to suspect trouble, but they hadn’t been quick enough to avoid ambush.

      Kate flung her door open almost simultaneously with Emir as he leaped to the ground on the other side, using the door for cover.

      Out of the corner of his eye he saw her crouch before she jumped to the pavement and fired, taking out the Land Rover’s left rear tire, crippling it.

      Emir moved forward, keeping his head down as he used their vehicle for cover. Ahead of them, the passenger door of the Land Rover hung open. He peered over the edge of the hood of the Hummer and saw what looked like a hand, the black metal of a gun gleaming over the door. He fired, one shot and then two, and ducked down.

      Silence.

      He glanced behind him, mindful of their proximity to the airport. There was the possibility that at any moment innocent travelers could be heading out of the airport and directly into the line of fire. And almost as bad, possibly worse, there could be police. They didn’t need the confusion or the procedures of police involvement complicating the situation and taking valuable time away from the search for Tara. This was their business and no one else’s. He gripped his gun grimly, determined to end this and end it soon. Whoever these renegades were, they were obviously out of sync with what was going on and, more obviously, by the law of coincidence, somehow involved with Tara’s kidnappers.

      He took in the scene in front of him, the threat and the results of the threat that still remained. Twenty-five feet ahead and to the left was a body. He dove, taking cover as gunshot sprayed over the pavement. A glare from the passenger side momentarily blinded him as sunlight sparked off the metal of the opposing weapon and confirmed that someone was still alive.

      “We want at least one of them alive,” Kate said. She had moved around to his side and behind him. “I’ve counted two. Not giving us good odds,” she muttered, “that we don’t easily kill them both.”

      It was the ideal situation but it was also hard to control. The most they could ask for was that he, Kate and Dell came out alive. That was mandatory. Emir refused to accept anything else. He set the bar high when it came to keeping his employees safe.

      Another shot was fired. This time it was clear that the weapon was different. It was a handgun. He’d seen the glint of the short barrel and then nothing—a single shot and silence. It was hard to tell how many there were. He wasn’t as sure as Kate that there were only two. No more than three, he suspected, but they were keeping down, out of sight. So far there was no visual, so he couldn’t pinpoint it.

      A shot from the passenger side and then another and as he raised his gun. It was obvious that the choice to keep one of their attackers alive might not be theirs to make.

      Emir fired and the man’s gun clattered to the pavement, but no body followed. Instead the passenger managed to fling himself into the driver’s seat even as Kate fired again and again. The Land Rover peeled away, veering right then left as the smell of burned rubber and gunpowder knifed through the air before the Rover careened to a stop about four hundred feet away from them. The vehicle listed slightly to the left with one tire flat and its right side jammed against an embankment of dirt and discarded cement.

      “Stay here,” Emir said to Kate.

      He nodded to Dell. “Cover me.”

      But as he came up to the vehicle, there was no movement. The Rover had pitched on its side. The smell of gas permeated the air. Emir moved to the right, away from the driver. Everything was still. He inched along the driver’s side where the man was slumped. Dead, unconscious or feigning—it wasn’t clear. The only thing that was clear was that he wasn’t moving and that, for now, he didn’t pose a threat. Still, one couldn’t be sure. Emir held his gun in one hand and pulled the driver’s door open as he jumped back, both hands on his gun.

      Nothing.

      He moved forward, jammed the gun in the man’s ribs and took a closer look.

      “Dead,” he muttered.

      “Bad luck,” Kate said as she came up behind him. “Or not.” She held her handgun in one hand, her other free. “He probably wouldn’t have given you anything,

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