“Can’t I go out on deck?” Jules asked for the hundredth time, this time from the sliding glass door that led out to their private balcony. “The hot tub is nice, but it’s hot out here and I’d really like to get into the pool. We didn’t even get off the ship in Bermuda. Are we getting off in Tortola like we planned?”
“No, we’re not. Everything we need is right in here. I’ll take you surfing in Virginia Beach when we get home,” Keegan replied, frantically texting Greg Lambert the photos the guys had gathered. “This suite is intended for us not to have to leave until we dock. If you need something, just call room service.”
“We could’ve stayed holed up in my room at home, MacDonald. We’re here to find a terrorist and we’re not doing that by staying cooped up in here.”
Do not look at her Keegan—she’s changed into that swimsuit again.
“Bob and Louise have been watching Abdel up on the sun deck and the guys are following him and his cohorts wherever they go.” But that was useless, since none of them spoke Arabic, which the men had kept to in all conversations.
Keegan had asked the Commander if he could have a linguist join them at one of the ports, but, so far, he hadn’t found one. Greg Lambert was fully on board with giving them what they needed after he verified the man in the photo Bob snapped was Abdel Nour.
Since they were in international waters and would be until they returned to Baltimore, however, he couldn’t be arrested. They were just supposed to watch him closely and take him into custody when they got back to Baltimore. Lambert said he still wasn’t sold on the terrorist threat, and honestly, neither was Keegan yet.
Would Abdel be on a boat he planned on hijacking or destroying?
No, he would not. Nour was the mastermind of all the evil carried out by his organization. He had underlings and jihadists to do the dirty work for him, which could possibly be the roles of the other men on board with him. Keegan wouldn’t know that for sure until Greg provided ID from the photos.
“Well, if you decide you want to rub oil on my back for me, I’ll just be out here,” she said in a petulant tone as he heard the door roll open, but he didn’t dare look. Jules Lawson was determined to torture and distract him and it was working.
They would be in Tortola in the morning, and he really wanted to take her surfing as he promised, but he wasn’t sure they should disembark there, either. Taking the chance that Abdel would recognize her just wasn’t worth it.
You paid ten thousand dollars for a fucking vacation and you need to have one.
Yes, he did, he thought, throwing his phone on the coffee table with a disgusted grunt. If four Navy SEALs and a retired Ranger couldn’t protect her, who could? In fact, he was going to get Jules right now and they were going up on deck. Keegan stood, but groaned when his phone dinged. He picked it up again and quickly opened the text.
Abbad Salam, Al Qaeda lieutenant, female is Irshal, his wife. Second and third man unknown. Linguist will join you on Tortola. Arranged cover for her with cruise line admin and she will contact you once onboard.
Thank God for that, but the confirmation those men were radicals only made the band of tension around his chest tighter. Adding that to what Jules overheard, and that those men were gathered on this ship, it was obvious they weren’t here for a vacation. But until the interpreter joined them, they wouldn’t know what they were plotting.
All he could do was watch and wait now. And stop hiding in his freaking cabin when he was on a luxury vacation with a beautiful woman.
Keegan walked to the slider, opened it with purpose and spotted Jules sunning herself and reading on a chaise at the end of the long balcony. He strode to the chair, and snatched the magazine from her hand. She pushed her floppy hat back and he could feel her glare at him through her sunglasses.
“What? Are you taking my magazine too, Boris? Am I in time out or something?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “No, Natasha, you are going up on that deck with me and we are going swimming, if that bikini doesn’t start a riot.”
She harrumphed, and traced the indention at the bottom of his throat with a finger. “I didn’t even think you noticed.”
“Baby, I noticed. Every. Damned. Thing. About. You. Even when I don’t want to.”
He snatched the hat from her head, gripped the back of her head with his other hand and pulled her mouth to his. She sighed into his mouth, wound her arms around his neck and her nipples hardened against his chest.
Keegan dropped her hat to grip her ass and pull her flush to his painful erection. When she ground her hips against him and mewled into his mouth, he knew they wouldn’t be making it to the pool deck any time soon.
He dragged his mouth from hers, then bent and swept her up in his arms. After two steps toward nirvana, he stopped when his phone dinged again like a freaking cash register.
“Not looking,” he said when he met her frustrated eyes. Her wide smile lit up his insides as he carried her inside and walked directly toward their posh bedroom.
The front door of the suite beeped, which meant someone was crashing their party. Why in the hell had he invited them to come with him? Because you need their help. With a sigh, Keegan eased Jules to her feet and turned as Lawrence rushed inside.
“Bob saw a money transfer. Isn’t that part of what Jules overheard?” he asked, striding over to them.
“Yes, it is,” Jules replied in a tight voice.
“How does he know it was a money transfer?” Keegan asked.
“Abdel met some guy, a Latin man he hadn’t met with before, up on the sun deck. He dropped a pretty large duffle on the ground beside his chair. They had drinks and he left without it. The other guy picked it up and walked away with it.”
“Did Bob get a photo of the Latin guy?” Keegan asked.
“Said he couldn’t because they would’ve noticed. They sat too close to him and Louise. But they spoke in English, so he heard what they said. Something is being loaded on the ship at one of our stops before getting back to Baltimore.”
“That’s what I heard Ari and Abdel talking about at the bar,” Jules confirmed in a shaky voice. “What I suspected has to be true, then. I wonder which port?”
Tortola. Dominican Republic. Which would it be? Or had it already been loaded on the ship in Bermuda? Fuck, they should’ve gotten off the ship in Bermuda.
But surely Abdel’s partner would’ve wanted the money up front—before the goods or services were rendered—whatever they were. These were criminals, terrorists, and thugs they were talking about, so trust wasn’t part of the equation. That meant most likely the package hadn’t been loaded on the ship yet.
Keegan’s body wilted with relief. But Jules was right—hiding in this room was not finding them, or identifying the threat. There wouldn’t be surfing, scuba diving, or beachcombing on this trip, but Keegan would make it up to Jules later.
From here on out, it would be all hands and eyes on deck when they docked, to observe the loading process. Keegan wished like hell he could fill in the Captain and crew about the potential threat, but he couldn’t risk it.
“Can’t we alert the Captain and crew about the situation now?” Jules asked, as if reading his mind.
“No, we don’t have enough evidence,” Keegan replied, with a sigh. “And if something is being loaded on this ship, we don’t know that one of the crew isn’t involved in the plan.” Keegan looked at his friend. “Lawrence, round up the others and come back so we can have a SITREP and make assignments for the rest of the cruise.”
The only question in his mind at the moment was how many people were at risk here—two thousand on the passenger list, or two million on the east coast? To impress the whole east coast, as Jules heard Ari and Abdel discuss at the bar, it would have to be one hell of a party, so he would bet on the latter.
That meant they were probably talking about a bomb.