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Cloud bursts deluged rain as Henri and Mike were forced at gunpoint to strip down to their t-shirts and shorts for a search. Their hidden weapons were removed, their wetsuits cast aside. Even their ICE watches were ripped off and stomped on with the heel of a thug’s boot. Thugs brandished AK-47s while they marshaled the ICE assets to the beach where they were forced into the cargo hull of a boat—a boat that hadn’t been there before.

They’d failed on every front. They’d found Dr. Flynn, but couldn’t manage to rescue him. They’d seen the warhead, but no one knew about it. And their only backup, Luke Fox, was fishing behind the outcropping where he couldn’t see a damned thing happening at the airfield.

Wet and miserable, Henri sat beside Mike with her back against the wall. The hold was blacker than coal. She hated not being able to see, cramped in a tiny space. Engines roared to life making the boat shudder. The water had turned choppy with the storm and the boat crashed through the surf, jolting and groaning as if it were sure to sink with the next lightning strike.

Henri raised her cuffed hands to her chest and used her fingertips to rub her angry gunshot wound now punishing her for the exertion of the op—the failed op. Grunting, she hadn’t expected it to sear with pain.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

“I’d be a helluva lot better if I weren’t sitting on a boat in zip cuffs, sailing away from the scientist we were supposed to rescue.” She pounded her fists on the floor. “Damn it!”

“Tell me about it. And no one kens he’s there.”

“How about you, hotshot? You threw some pretty mean punches. Did you come out of it unscathed?”

“A couple bruises. Nothing serious.”

“Thank God.” Henri stared at the blackness while her blood boiled. “Fadli knew we were there. We played right into his hands.”

Mike drew in a deep breath. “I should have guessed. We got in too easy.”

“But we were so careful—flying in to the private airfield. For crying out loud, I wore a hijab through customs.” She wracked her mind. Had someone informed on them? Was there a bad egg at ICE? Everywhere they went, Fadli and his thugs were a step ahead. In France, then in Arusha. They’d already struck only minutes before they arrived at Nelson’s mine, and now Rhodes.

Could it be Luke?

She shook her head. The pilot had only come on the scene in Dodoma—after Arusha.

“Facial recognition,” said Mike. “Gotta be.”

“Even in Rhodes?”

“Even there—or they had eyes on the plane. Somehow Fadli’s got your number—probably mine, too.”

About an hour later, the boat slowed, rocking in the water. Men yelled on the deck above while the gears ground.

Mike grasped her arm with his cuffed hands. “We need to stay together.”

She leaned into him. “Do you think they’ll execute us right away?” Henri had never feared death, but she’d never been captured, either.

“They’ve brought us this far, I doubt Fadli will kill us without having some fun first.”

“Interrogation?”

“Doubtless—including some sort of propaganda farce.”

She looked upwards even though there was nothing to see above them. “Do you think the satellites stayed with us?”

“No chance. Not in this weather. The good news is it’s still night. I doubt they’ll try to film our torture until daylight.”

“Charming—but why’s that good?”

“Time.”

The door burst open and someone shone a blinding flashlight straight in Henri’s eyes. “Come,” he said.

If anything, the rain had grown worse and visibility sucked. They were marshaled off the boat and onto a stone platform at the bottom of a sheer rock face. Through the rain, nothing looked familiar.

The guards pushed them single-file up a ledge, made slippery by rainwater streaming over her feet. Up and up they climbed while the surf crashed against the rocks below. A fall would be deadly. One slip and splat. When they reached about two hundred feet above the sea, the guard led them through an archway that looked medieval.

The man in front opened an iron gate. Henri hesitated, but the thug behind jabbed her in the back with the muzzle of his gun. The door creaked and boomed shut behind them.

Mike shoved his arms through the bars. “Come on, cut these zip cuffs.”

The guard moved his hand to the hilt of his knife, but shook his head.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Henri stuck her wrists through as well. “Please?”

Pursing his lips, the guard unsheathed his knife and cut both sets of cuffs.

“Sukran,” she thanked him as he walked away.

“Thank you?” Mike asked, rubbing his wrists.

“Might as well. Who knows, he might be a terrorist with a compassionate streak.”

“I doubt it.”

Henri rubbed her neck and looked from wall to wall. “Where the hell are we?”

Mike turned in a circle, gingerly tapping a gash on his head. “Ruins of some sort.” It was still night and raining. The inside of the chamber was dim at best. “Probably Turkey.”

Henri leaned against the cold, stone wall and crossed her arms to ward off the chill of the cold, wet clothing clinging to her body. “Tell me you have a plan for escape.”

“Working on it,” said Mike, moving to the only window recessed in an embrasure at the back. It was barred and had no glass.

She pushed off the wall and joined him. Rain splattered her face as she wrapped her fingers around the bars and peered out. Straight down, the white-capped Mediterranean roared with the motion of the tide, spanning as far as she could see. She strengthened her grip and twisted. “These are loose. We could probably work them free.”

“Aye, if we have a week. Not to mention, there’s nothing but a sheer wall out there. We’d plunge to our deaths on the rocks below.”

“That might be preferable to what Fadli has in store for us.”

He smoothed his hand over her shoulder.

Henri hissed with the sting.

Knitting his brows, he bent down to examine her arm. “You’re bleeding again.”

Sure enough, blood had soaked through her sleeve. The wound throbbed like a bitch, but there was nothing they could do about it. “It’ll be all right.”

Mike pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you in this mess.”

As the comfort of his warmth surrounded her, Henri chuckled. “I think I can take responsibility for my own actions. Remember? You tried to make me go back to Iceland when we were in France.”

He pressed his lips against her temple. “I should have been more insistent.”

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to melt into him. By now, Mike had to realize once she had her mind set on something, it wasn’t easy to convince her to change. But his tenderness was heartwarming. Never in her life had another human being shown so much concern for her. Well, maybe Grandfather in his own way. But there was something special about Mike Rose, something Henri never wanted to lose. She slid her hands around his waist and held on for dear life while tears stung the back of her eyes. “What if they kill us?”

He crushed his body against her even tighter. “Dunna say it. Dunna ever say it.”

“But this is ISIS.” She whispered the acronym as if it were a curse.

“Shhhhh.” He cradled her head and held it to his chest. “Believe in yourself. Believe in us.”

“But what if—”

“No, lass. You must keep your mind positive. We are a team—an undefeatable team. Where is my tough Paiute warrior? You have the heart of the eagle and you have never needed to soar as high as you do right now.”

Releasing a stuttered breath, she nodded. Yes! His words made new strength pulse through her blood. She was a warrior. A sniper. A member of the Paiute Tribe, and she was no coward. “I am Soaring-Eagle.”

“You are. And always remember: In war your foe is never perfect. They will drop their guards and make mistakes. Our job is to be daring. To watch and wait for our chance and then act swiftly.”

“You have the heart of a Paiute.” She smoothed her hand along his jaw. “You are my spirit warrior with the courage of a lion.”

“That’s right, lass. I will never bend to their will.”

“Come.” Henri pulled Mike to the center of the chamber and, together, they sat cross-legged opposite each other. She took both of his hands in hers. “In this moment, our souls unite. Together, we are more powerful than we are apart. Together, we can conquer all in this life or the next.”

Mike opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “In this circle, we make a bond and our souls are joined forever. We are proud warriors of the Paiute Tribe. We are warriors of the universe and we will not fail.”

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and released it slowly. Mike did the same until their breathing became one, until the heartbeat thrumming through their connected palms beat as one. The power between them grew and swelled throughout the cell.

She would not think of what might come tomorrow. But right now, in this hour, no Earthly being could sever the strength of their bond.