Sunday. Razqa Home, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

Zeina stared at the man across from her. It all made sense now.

To Lemine’s credit, he didn’t fidget or try to look away. He stared right back at her. Samba might be a foolish man, but he knew enough to employ intelligent people. Lemine was largely responsible for making Samba look good. He was also a single point of intel for everything the PPM was trying to do.

“The house is secure, ma’am,” the head of her mercenary guard said in English.

“Thank you. That will be all for now.” Zeina flicked her fingers at him.

Given the state of unrest in the city and needing to take matters into her own hands, it had seemed prudent to retain the services of one group for her own. General Taleb was an unfortunate thorn in their side.

Zeina lifted her tea cup and sipped the hot brew, taking a moment to smell the rich aroma.

Lemine’s hands were still bound. He had no such freedoms.

She had yet to speak to him directly, and the man only spoke Arabic. That was possibly his one negative trait. Still, he was smart enough to have become Samba’s right-hand man.

“I know you sold information to the Americans.” Zeina tilted her head to the side. She’d deal with him like she would any employee who stole from her.

Lemine didn’t answer or acknowledge her statement. That was fine. He didn’t have to like her to work with her.

“You have two options, Lemine. Tell me what you know about their plans for escape and work with me on sensitive matters that need to be handled quickly—or I tell Samba the ugly truth. That you’re helping get Jacqueline Davis out of the country right now, because you don’t believe in Samba at all.”

Samba might be foolish, but he was never kind. It’d been stupid, blind luck that the PPM patrol lucked onto the Americans earlier. Calling Papis and tipping him off was her only play to stay involved.

The first waver at the corner of Lemine’s mouth. A slight tremble.

There were no second and third chances when one was in the employ of Samba Hamadi. If Lemine’s boss found out, he’d been helping the Americans—even against his will—Samba would kill him without hesitation. Of course, Samba would want to verify what she said. He could hardly take the word of a woman. That was fine. Because her mercenaries were all over the city and knew who paid their salary. Samba didn’t hold their loyalty, she did. And soon, Lemine would be hers as well.

Sunday. Al-Saddaaqah Hospital, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

Valentina Sanchez washed the blood from her hands and focused on her breathing. Inhale all the way through the stomach, and blow it out on a long, steady exhale. There were, so many wounded and not enough medical care in the city. She’d run herself into the ground if she tried to help everyone.

“Val! Val, where are you?” Duke’s voice, the tone of alarm, sent a chill down her spine.

“Here.” She shut the sink off and turned, stepping out into the hall of the emergency department. She gaped at Duke and the other two men with him. “Kyle? What are you doing here? Where’s Val?”

“He needs help. Now.” Kyle and Duke carried an older man into the break room and pushed everything off the small table.

They set the man on the edge. Blood poured down his chest from a wound at his neck. She grabbed gloves and shelved her questions for later. Wherever Jackie was, Val couldn’t help her, but she could help this man.

“Get him lying down,” she said.

The two men eased the third down on the table top.

“What’s he saying?” She pulled the bandage aside to get a glimpse of the jagged wound oozing blood.

“He’s praying. This is the Imam,” Duke said.

“What does that mean? How’d he get this wound?”

“Someone broke into his home. They were trying to loot the place. I heard the screams,” Kyle said.

“This is—what? A knife wound? I need a neck brace, an IV and blood. Duke, find me someone in a white coat, now.” Val only had so many resources at her disposal. If they got the wound cleaned and stopped the bleeding, he’d be fine. Judging by how deep it went, they weren’t at risk of damage to one of the main arteries, but it was a serious injury for such an old man.

Kyle kept up a steady stream of dialogue with the man, even chanting some of the same words with him. Val left them to it and focused on the wound. Duke and a doctor passed in and out, bringing her what she asked for and setting up a makeshift room for their patient. Judging by the way people stared at the man, they all knew who he was.

“In all seriousness, is he going to pull through?” Kyle asked in English.

“We’re getting more blood in him than he’s losing. The bleeding has slowed. I’d say we’re past the danger point, but he’s an old man and these are scary times.” She shook her head. “What about Jackie? What happened?”

“Shit if I know. PPM has Isaac, Shane and Adam. Jackie and Felix got away last I saw, but hell if I know where they are now.”

“She could still be out there?”

“Yeah.”

Duke returned to hover in the doorway. His presence was a distraction she’d been avoiding since the moment she laid eyes on him. There was something intense about the way he looked at her as though he could see down to her heart. It was unnerving.

The Imam started speaking, his gaze on Duke.

“What’s he saying?” Val whispered.

“He knows who Duke is, and he wants the court to advocate on behalf of the people,” Kyle whispered. “Duke thinks the Imam should encourage the people to protest. And...”

“And? What?” Val glanced at duke.

“He says he knows where the president is,” Duke said.

“Is he alive?” Val asked.

Sunday. M'Barek Home, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

Felix’s ass was numb and the sand rash was going to drive him out of his mind before much longer.

The initial stress of waiting to be found had died off. Several hours later, he was beginning to wonder if anyone remembered they were there. They needed water in a bad way, his head was killing him and neither of them had eaten since this morning’s spread with everyone at the hotel. Not to mention he’d like to try to find out where the others were. For all he knew, they were dead and left in the middle of the highway.

Jackie stopped pacing and tilted her head toward the door.

“I hear someone,” she whispered.

“Behind the shelves,” he said.

She darted past him into the darkness. From everything they’d heard, the people searching the house were several hours gone. It didn’t hurt to stay cautious. He backed after her. If need be, he’d protect her with his life. In practice he didn’t think it would come to that. Jackie alive was the goal for all of them.

The soft thump of feet grew closer, punctuated by the jangle of keys.

Felix kept his weapon lowered.

Two shadows broke the dim light under the door.

A key scraped in the lock.

He held his breath and tightened his grip on the rifle.

The door swung open, a young woman silhouetted by the single light bulb on behind her. She whispered and waved to them.

“What’s she saying?” Felix hated not knowing the language. He could say a few key phrases, but that was about it.

“Coast is clear, it’s safe to come up.” Jackie nudged at him.

“Ask her why they’re helping us. How do they know who you are? Is there any sort of news coverage going on? Can we get a phone?” He edged forward slowly.

“Can we do this one at a time?” Jackie pushed him forward.

Felix stepped out from their hiding spot, but caught Jackie by the wrist.

“I go first,” he said.

Jackie spoke a string of words to the girl who replied. Felix grit his teeth and watched them, back and forth, biding his time and hoped for an answer.

“She says they’ve locked down the house for the night. The PPM patrol won’t come back and the military has washed their hands of Yenna. They waited until after evening prayers so we can move around the house freely. The staff is gone, so it’s just family, which I take to mean the people who live here. Yenna doesn’t have kids. There’s a suite for us, dinner and everything.”

“What about a phone?” Felix’s cell phone was an unfortunate casualty of the day, shattered beyond saving.

“Come on.” Jackie grabbed his arm. “I have to pee. Walk and talk.”

Felix stepped out into the hall first. The young woman, maybe sixteen to eighteen, took the lead, Jackie falling into step with her.

So much for going first.

“There’s a phone we can use,” Jackie said over her shoulder.

Water was the first priority. Once they’d drank something he’d call the offices and get a report on everyone else. After that, he didn’t care.

They climbed another set of stairs up past the first floor to the second. Jackie and the woman chatted, their voices soft, the words melodic. They even smiled a time or two, but it didn’t do anything to ease the tension twisting Felix up.

He’d left his team to protect Jackie.

It didn’t change the fact that he’d left.

The guys might be assholes from time to time, but they were also the ones who watched his back and wouldn’t hesitate to save his life.

The lights overhead flickered and then died.

“Jackie?” Felix peered up at the ceiling, waiting for the power to come back on.

Voices drifted toward them from other rooms, the words meaning nothing.

“She said this hasn’t happened before,” Jackie said.

They continued to climb to the second floor, then down to a large, corner room. Water and two trays of food waited for them in the darkness.

“What about the phone?” Felix asked.

Jackie whispered with the girl. He didn’t like the way her hands moved or how long it took to answer what was essentially an easy question.

“She’s got to check on that for us.”

The young woman left, scurrying out and closing the door behind her.

“What the hell, Jackie?” Felix wanted some damn answers. He grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the top off, too thirsty to wait any longer.

Jackie followed his example. Between the two of them they drank a good three bottles each before they slowed down.

“The power went off, and she got scared.” Jackie twisted the top off another bottle and sipped from it. “She said they had phones, but the cell phones were out.”

“This close to the military building they could be running a jammer if they want to keep the PPM forces from communicating easily.” Felix sat on what he thought was a stool. For all he knew it was a table.

“Cut off communication, power, everything that people depend on. Make them afraid and helpless.” She glanced at him. “I’ve seen this before.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He braced his hands on his knees. “We see if we can contact the others. Fucking smoke signal for all I care. We get some food. We check our matching head wounds. Then, do we want to head south tonight? Or in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Before today PPM was only active at night.”

“I know.” Felix didn’t want to consider how closely they’d come to getting trapped in that hotel room. If Duke hadn’t left a couple guys at the barricade line, they’d have been caught unaware.

Someone tapped at the door.

Felix stood and crossed to it before Jackie could. He opened it and peered out at the man who’d made the call to hide them in the first place.

“I owe you one.” Felix held out his hand, a universal symbol.

The man peered at his palm for a moment before giving it a firm shake.

“I hope this is the man with the answers.” Felix stepped back, and he came into the room.

Their guest didn’t miss a beat. He looked straight at Jackie and began speaking.

“He says the cell phones and internet haven’t worked since yesterday morning. The news is spotty. Their landline just went dead. Someone down the street claims that PPM has shut down the power plant.”

“Shit,” Felix muttered. “Ask him how long since the planes stopped running?”

Jackie nodded and translated for them.

If Felix was truly cut off like this, he had to make his focus Jackie.

“The planes haven’t taken off or landed since yesterday,” she said.

“Okay, how about a truck or a car? Could we buy one off him? Is anyone headed south or out of the city?” Felix’s preference was to take her out by air or sea, but he hadn’t forgotten Kyle’s statements about pirates floating out there working with the PPM.

“There’s a truck taking supplies out to a refugee camp outside the city. We could ride with them in the morning, maybe get a signal on the outskirts and make a better plan there?” Jackie peered up at him.

“Let’s plan on that.” He squeezed her arm.

Jackie and the man spoke for a moment longer before he saw himself out, leaving the two of them alone.

“Val and the others, they’ll be okay,” Jackie said.

He wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his.

“Yeah. They will be.”

“I bet if things got bad Val would head to the closest hospital to...work or hide there.”

“That’s smart of her.” He gestured to the food. “Eat. The water still works, yeah?”

“No one said it didn’t.”

“Then let’s eat, wash up and sleep. This could be the safest we’ll be for a while.” Felix wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep, but he had to try. “It just this room?”

“And the bathroom. Guess we’re bunking together again.”

He should make a joke, but he didn’t have it in him.

If his helmet hadn’t stopped that bullet, he might be dead. There was nothing to stop those same people from firing on the rest of his team. The bullets his helmet had stopped could easily tear through unprotected flesh. And here he was, in a comfortable—clean—room with a prepared meal and cool water to drink.

It wasn’t fair.

Jackie must have sensed his mood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tight. For all her words, they were both fighting the dread that the people they cared for like blood might be dead. They could be the only ones still alive.

Was power worth this price? All this blood and destruction?