Chapter Twelve

The Veneno cartel’s days were numbered. Its founders just didn’t realize it yet.

En route. Be there in about twenty minutes or so.

In the back of the cab taking her to the Virginia headquarters of the DEA’s FAST units, Special Agent Jaliya Rabani sent the text message then set her phone down in her lap and rubbed at her dry, burning eyes.

The last leg of her trip from Kabul had been delayed at Heathrow due to mechanical problems, adding another four hours to her already grueling journey. She’d have killed for a two-hour nap before this upcoming meeting, but FAST’s Commander, Taggart, had already waited long enough for her arrival, and he’d also called in his entire team for this.

Okay. Meet us in the briefing room, Taggart responded.

Will do.

With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the seat as the lights of Alexandria rushed by in a blur outside her window. She’d been called here for high-level meetings to do with the Venenos, based on intel she’d recently uncovered back in Afghanistan.

Strange, to think of that struggling country more as home than the States now, but after living over there so much over the past few years—far more time than she’d spent back home in Michigan in the same period—it made sense. There was a lot about the country of her father’s birth that she disliked, hated even, but it was also familiar and dear to her. That was another reason why she was doing this job, to stem the tide of opium flowing through the porous, mountainous borders. She was convinced that drugs were the scourge of humanity.

Every shipment of opium in Afghanistan meant money in the hands of terrorist organizations. Money to buy weapons and power so they could wage war and subjugate the helpless. Now their poisonous reach was having real consequences here in the U.S. and Mexico, and she was going to help put an end to it.

The cab pulled into the parking lot of FAST headquarters and stopped in front of the main building. She paid the driver, grabbed her suitcase and backpack, and headed up the concrete walkway to the front door.

The lobby lights were on, but no one was at reception because it was so late. She let herself in using the key code she’d been given, and looked around for directions to the briefing room. Lights down the hallway to her right seemed to indicate someone must be down there, so she went that way, rolling her suitcase behind her. Within moments, it was clear she’d taken a wrong turn. Nothing but empty offices met her eyes, and she didn’t hear any voices or other signs of life.

After trailing back to her starting point, she tried another hallway, this one not as well lit. A few steps in, she stopped again, unconvinced she was in the right area.

Frustrated and beyond tired, she started to pull out her phone but a man stepped out of a doorway in front of her about halfway up the hall. A well-built man with short, dark hair and a pair of shoulders that stretched the fabric of the dark T-shirt he wore above dark jeans that hugged a tight, shapely backside.

“Excuse me,” she said.

No response. He had his phone out, his head bent as he stared intently at the screen and kept walking away from her.

“Excuse me,” she called out, a little louder.

Still nothing.

What the hell, was he deaf?

To hell with this bullshit. She was a special agent with critical intel to deliver. Taggart and his team were waiting for her somewhere in this damn building, and she needed to get to the briefing room ASAP, not continue wandering aimlessly along the corridors like a rat caught in a maze.

Jaliya released the handle of her suitcase and planted her hands on her hips, fresh out of patience as she stared after the stranger with the wide shoulders and fine ass she shouldn’t be noticing. “Excuse me. Little help over here?”

****

Since it was past midnight, Special Agent Zaid Khan hadn’t expected to receive the text message. As he read it, he was more annoyed than anything else. He’d been chatting with this girl he’d met online for a month now, had finally worked up the nerve to ask her out last week because they seemed to click, and she’d just bailed on him.

Fine. He wouldn’t let it bother him. Maybe she wasn’t even real. Since he’d never met her in person, for all he knew she could actually be a sixty-year-old grandmother in real life. He shook his head at himself. The whole online dating thing was like navigating a frickin’ minefield.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he headed down the hallway at FAST headquarters and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. Probably better this way. He was tired. After the team’s constant activity of the past ten days he was beat, and now he was free to go home and sleep in, instead of having to get up and go on a breakfast date in the morning. First dates were always so damn awkward anyway.

An extra few hours’ sleep seemed like a better and better alternative all the time. The team had the next two days off, unless something else came up, and he intended to make the most of them. Mountain biking, or vegging on the couch? He had two speeds, stop and go, so it could go either way.

“Excuse me. Little help over here?”

Huh? He stopped mid-stride and swung around at the lightly-accented, irritated feminine voice behind him.

A woman maybe in her late twenties or early thirties with long, dark hair stood at the end of the hallway, watching him with an exasperated look on her face. Had she been calling after him? There was something familiar about her, too.

He raised his eyebrows, confused. “Sorry?”

She let out an impatient sigh, her hands planted on her cargo-pant-clad hips. Her nicely curved hips. “I asked if you could point me to Commander Taggart.” Her voice held the hint of a British accent.

He’d been so deep in his head, he hadn’t heard her. “Sure. Sorry, didn’t hear you the first time. His office is at the end of the hall. Is he expecting you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, follow me.” He pointed in the direction he’d been headed. “I’ll show you.”

“Thank you.” Her strides were quick and confident as she approached him, the strap of a backpack hitched over one shoulder.

Zaid held out his hand when she got close. “Zaid.” Yep, he’d seen her before somewhere, but couldn’t place her. It was driving him nuts. Normally he was awesome at remembering faces and names.

She shook his hand, surprising him with the firmness of her grip. “Jaliya.” Those dark chocolate eyes did a quick assessment of him in his fatigues, her long, thick lashes casting shadows over the tops of her high cheekbones. “You one of his men?”

“Yes.”

“Brilliant, then you can show me to the briefing room instead.”

Zaid blinked. She was going into a team briefing with them? “Uh, sure.”

The hint of a smile quirked the corner of her mouth as she fell in step with him, dragging a rolling suitcase with her. “It’s okay. I’m your intel officer for the briefing.”

“Oh.” Wasn’t too often they got a female IO, and to his recollection never one as good-looking as her. “You work here in D.C.?”

“No. Kabul, mostly.”

Then it hit him. He snapped his fingers, his expression brightening. “Knew it. I saw you there this past March.” She’d been working intel at headquarters there, but they’d never been formally introduced.

She eyed him for a moment before looking back down the hallway. “Sorry, I don’t remember you.”

That shouldn’t have dinged his already bruised ego, but it did. “You still stationed there, or did you transfer here?”

“Still there. I’m just here to help with a special case.” Her cell rang. She pulled it from her pocket, answered, and began a conversation in rapid Dari.

Zaid caught every word, and noted that she spoke it like a native, without any trace of an accent. He didn’t have one either, because both his parents had been born and raised in Afghanistan and had taught him both Dari and English growing up here in the States, in addition to some Pashto.

He listened as they walked the rest of the way to the team briefing room. Information about various warlords and traffickers in and around central and southern Afghanistan. Heavy shit requiring a hefty security clearance.

When they reached the door, Zaid held out a hand to indicate the room. She nodded in acknowledgment and ended her conversation. She slipped her phone back into the front pocket of her cargo pants as they stepped inside.

The rest of the guys were already seated inside, and Taggart stood up front, the lights glinting off his dark blond hair. Behind him the big screen showed pictures of some of the Veneno cartel members they were currently interested in. The team commander gave Jaliya a small smile and beckoned her up front with him.

Zaid grabbed a seat next to Logan and watched her.

“Who’s she?” Logan whispered, his knee wrapped up with a compression bandage. Zaid still felt bad for causing the injury.

“Apparently she’s an IO on this case.”

Logan’s reddish-brown eyebrows went up and he settled back into his chair, his left leg straightened out in front of him. Zaid had looked at the knee earlier today. The swelling was going down but it was a long way from being healed. Logan was chomping at the bit to get back to training full time with the rest of them, but if he pushed too hard too fast, it would set him back to the recovery start line and delay his return even longer.

“Boys, meet SA Jaliya Rabani, Foreign Cooperative Investigations agent working out of Kabul,” Taggart announced in his booming voice, his light turquoise eyes sweeping the room. “The agency asked her here to assist with their investigation of the Veneno cartel, and she’s been briefed about our operation in the Bahamas. She’s got intel pertinent to our latest targets.” He nodded at her. “Take it away.”

“Thank you.” Jaliya took center stage and got right to the point, mentioning names while another agent in the back of the room handled the power point presentation. Zaid paid close attention to her body language. Poised, confident. No nonsense.

Hot.

He shook off the unprofessional thought and focused on what she was saying. Wasn’t hard, because he liked the sound of her voice.

“There’s been a sharp increase in recent activity linking the Taliban and other terrorist organizations in Afghanistan and the surrounding region to the Veneno cartel.”

Zaid didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Venenos working with the Taliban?

She paused to wait for the agent working the power point presentation to bring up an image of a map detailing smuggling routes in and out of southern and eastern Afghanistan. “The latest intel we have points to the Veneno cartel exporting opium from the region in exchange for equipment and arms to various groups, in addition to large amounts of cash. Our agents in Kandahar intercepted a payment of US greenbacks being smuggled across the border in a small convoy of trucks carrying drums of oil. The traffickers empty the barrels, fill the bottom of each drum with opium, and cover it with whatever they think will conceal the drugs.”

Turning slightly, she watched the screen as various images of the recent seizure flicked past. “Once the traffickers get the opium through the Afghan border, they send it to Karachi or another big port city. From there the shipments are sent to labs in Mexico, where it’s cut and added to cocaine and heroin, along with fentanyl.”

Zaid crossed his arms over his chest and took in the big picture. During FAST Bravo’s most recent rotation over in A-stan, they’d spent the entire four months running around after Taliban leaders smuggling opium into Pakistan through the Khyber Pass. There’d been nothing to suggest any links to the Venenos. This was a whole new level of globalization in the drug trade.

“One name that’s come up at various points over the past few weeks is a code name, Víbora. Viper,” she translated, scanning the room with those dark, fathomless eyes.

Their gazes connected for a moment, and in that instant Zaid recognized the timeworn look in them he hadn’t noticed before. Jaliya came off as cool and professional, yet he knew without a doubt that she had seen far more violence and death than anyone should ever have to.

It only made him more curious about her and her background.

“Your analysts here in D.C. have been working on finding out this man’s identity, and now have reason to believe he’s Dillon Wainright.”

Zaid stiffened at the same time as Logan sat straight up in his chair beside him. Zaid rubbed a hand over his jaw, a bad feeling expanding in his gut. Wainright was the son of a bitch who’d arranged the sub shipment in the Bahamas. He smuggled opium out of A-stan too?

“Of course your team is now well aware of who he is. And as of last night, we have sworn statements given by prisoners from the Bahamas raid that he was the one responsible for ordering Dean Baker’s pilot to kill him a few weeks ago in Long Island.”

Wainright was also personally linked to SA Kennedy, the cute forensic accountant Logan had shown an interest in recently. He’d spent the night at her place last night because Wainright had broken into her house and tried bribing her to act as an informant for the cartel.

Zaid could feel the tension coming off Logan. Without looking at him, Zaid set a hand on the guy’s shoulder and squeezed once in a show of support. The agency would find Wainright, and nail his ass to the wall for everything he’d done.

Up front, Jaliya continued with the briefing, laying out Wainright’s suspected ties to the cartel, his suspected whereabouts, and how he was involved with trafficking in A-stan.

When she finished, she took questions, and it was all over within fifteen minutes. Zaid filed out into the hallway after her with everyone else. Ahead of him, Rodriguez was already on his phone, grinning, no doubt talking to Charlie.

“Anyone up for a beer?” Hamilton asked behind them.

“I’m up for a steak,” Kai said from up front.

“Course you are,” Freeman piped up in front of Zaid.

“I’ll go with you,” Zaid said, though not for a beer. He wasn’t strict about the way he practiced his religion, at least not compared to a lot of people, but he never touched alcohol. “I’ll be DD if anyone wants a ride.” He glanced at Logan, who was limping along beside him, apparently determined not to use his crutches. “You in?” he asked, mainly to be polite because Zaid was pretty sure Logan would want to head straight over to Taylor’s now.

“No. I’m gonna—” He stopped in mid-sentence when Rodriguez came to a dead halt in the middle of the hallway and looked back at him sharply.

Uh oh… Zaid didn’t like that look on his teammate’s face. Not at all.

Zaid came to a halt as the rest of the guys ground to a sudden stop and looked at Rodriguez questioningly. The hallway went dead silent. Even Taggart and Jaliya stopped and looked back to see what was going on.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll tell him,” Rodriguez finished. He lowered the phone and spoke directly to Logan, his expression grim. “Taylor’s in trouble. She just found the agent guarding her place with a bullet through his head.”

Oh, shit…

Logan stiffened and inhaled sharply. “What?”

The rest of the guys exchanged loaded glances.

Rodriguez nodded at Logan. “The cops are taking her to our place right now. You coming?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

With a nod, Rodriguez turned and jogged for the exit. Logan picked up his pace, but he was a long way from jogging yet.

Partway down the hallway he twisted his head around and shot a look at Zaid. “Can I swap vehicles with you? If anyone’s casing her place, they might try to follow the cops. I was at her place last night, and someone could recognize my truck.”

“Sure.” Zaid fished the keys from his pocket and exchanged with Logan. “I’ll follow you out.”

Together they hurried for the exit and out into the brightly lit parking lot.