The ride to the safe apartment was tense and quiet, reflecting everyone’s knowledge of the instability of this part of the world. The fifteen-passenger van with their gear in the back was in pristine condition, due mostly to the fact that they were in a desert. Lack of moisture created an amazing preserve for vehicles.

The shocks, on the other hand, could have done with replacing. Every rut, crack, and bump in the road sent them all bouncing on the seats.

The weight of what they were about to do weighed on John’s mind. And he felt certain that was the reason everyone else was quiet as well. Next to him, Emily clutched the backpack in her lap, her knuckles white on the straps.

“Everything okay?”

Her gaze found his, and she nodded curtly. “Fine.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he said. When she scowled, he laughed.

“I said I’m fine.”

“I know. You’ve been here. But it was two-plus years ago.” He shrugged. “No one would blame you for being a little nervous. As a matter of fact, it’s the nerves that will keep you sharp and make you a good teammate.”

Her hands relaxed on the bag, and she patted it absently. “I’ve never been part of a team like this before. You guys are more like a family—the ribbing, the looking out for each other. In my former unit, it was always more of a rat race and looking to get ahead of the next guy. Sure, we worked together, but we also…didn’t.” She shrugged. “This is better.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I keep wondering what comes first on the team—the operation or the friend.” Emily cleared her throat before she continued, and it made him turn to her on the bench to really see her face. “I think about that day, have thought about it over the past week. I wanted Hassan dead. I wanted him dead so badly, sometimes I wonder if it would have mattered if I’d seen the child and been able to stop. Would I have stopped?”

“You would have.” He was certain of it. He had to be.

But she was shaking her head. “I don’t know, John.”

“Isn’t the question moot? No one saw the child. Not even the man on the inside knew about the child.”

She laughed—but it wasn’t a nice laugh. “You don’t get it. No one does.”

“Help me.”

“I jinxed a longstanding record. I was a killer—but in the most decent way possible.”

He found his hand had threaded through her hair and sat at the back of her neck. He began a slow massage on the tightness in her tendons and muscles.

“You know what I learned?”

He shook his head.

“Decent was never a possibility. A killer is a killer, no matter how you look at it. Children should run in terror from people like me.”

His hand stopped rubbing as shock rocked through him. “I don’t know. You had me until that last line. Sometimes we have a really tough job to do. You might kill through your scope, but we’ve all—every one of us on this team—had another human’s life in their hands at some point in time. Even a doctor holds life in his hands.”

“Don’t,” she said. “That’s not the same at all, and you know it.”

He didn’t want to agree. Didn’t like that she was making him think about her this way. The rose-colored glasses were easy to see through, especially when it came to her. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t change the truth. That your job means protecting the greater good.”

“Fuck the greater good sometimes, John. You know? I should have been protecting that child’s life.”

“You’re not a cold-blooded killer—”

Their transport swerved left, bumped over some rough terrain, and swerved right. Emily about lost her seat, and John gripped her at her waist and set her back on the seat, instantly alert.

And so was everyone else.

“False alarm,” came the words from the front seat. “Moving forward.”

The jostle was a reminder, though, that they couldn’t stop paying attention for a moment. Ranger, their lookout at the back, nodded back at Hawk. “All clear from the rear, too.”

John slid his sidearm from its holster as he leaned back, and rested it comfortably in his lap. But he could hear every nuance of the engine, every hiccup of the noises that filtered in. Like the loud marketer selling his wares, and the high-pitched beep of a moped as it zipped through traffic.

He liked to think there would be something to warn against the next attack. Maybe it was intuition, though. He didn’t know. But he’d been in this part of the world often enough that he knew to be ready for anything.

“We picked up a tail,” Ranger said from his seat against the rear gate.

At the same time, the truck swerved left again and began a slow grind to a halt. John stood and looked over Hawk’s shoulder through the front window. Tan moved up next to him, and he had no doubt the man was seeing what he was seeing. Two tall men, coming at them from the west, moving quickly through the city crowds. One man, in white, openly stared at the truck.

“We’ve got three in back,” Bobby said. “Shit.” They were ten minutes at most from their destination. Mere miles.

“Hawk, you’re with Tan and Stacy,” John said. “Emily, you’re with me.”

No one hesitated. No one second-guessed. They all moved. Ranger and Craig. Malcolm with Marie. Emily at his side, because he gripped her elbow and pulled her out the back door, ducking quickly to the side and following the edge of the road with his head down.

John took the first alley, and began a winding, twisting, and turning route toward the apartment. He clipped on his Bluetooth as they ran—standard procedure—and immediately heard Hawk’s voice on the line. “—Westin.”

He knew the luxury hotel. “Apartment has been compromised,” he told Emily as they made their way down another street. “Plan B. You okay?” She nodded, even as sweat dripped down her temple. He slowed. “Take a breath.”

Someone had known they were coming. For the last time, John wondered what the hell was going on in the team. It was time for a sit-down and serious talk with Hawk. The entire team, if necessary. They had more to worry about than ISIS or the newest cell running the underground here in Qatar. Not to mention that every agency from London to the Philippines was tracking each other. And the local government would keep tabs as well. One agency tracking the next. Made it hard to piss without looking over his shoulder.

He’d left agency and military work and joined Hawk to avoid this kind of bullshit.

His pretended interest in the local wares being sold on the street disguised his quiet perusal.

The best part of the last ten minutes was that Emily had stayed with him, moved with him as if she’d been doing it for years. They worked well together, and she did take orders.

“I think we lost them.”

John nodded, grinning into her worried eyes, appreciating her height. Which was a crazy thing to be thinking about right now.

“What are you thinking?”

“I like how tall you are.”

She lifted that brow of hers, and he watched as desire flared in her gaze. And then she laughed. “Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

His smile came slowly, achingly. “I think we should get a move on.”

When they turned, though, he didn’t take her hand like he wanted to. He let her follow, two paces behind, so as not to attract unwanted attention.

Around the next corner, the entrance to the hotel sat off the main road. Tall white columns, stone façade. Gold—everywhere.

He wanted to hate this place. He’d never been here without the conflict of war, but there were parts of it that drew him in. And he knew, in his heart, through his beliefs, that the world had started here, that his belief system began in this very corner of the world. The oldest part of the world. He had an ache when he was here that had nothing to do with war and everything to do with sadness.

John led her through the familiar gates to the courtyard beyond, and checked them in as brother and sister. And funny, he didn’t feel like it was a stretch. They were both tall and both fair, although her hair was a shade or two darker than his blond.

“You’re quiet now,” she said.

“Sorry. Thinking about being here, about not wanting to be here.”

She visibly shivered.

He took the keys the attendant offered and turned to the west hallway. “We’re meeting in the conference room down here first. Then I’ll walk you to the room you’re sharing with Marie.”

The room wasn’t huge, but it had three tables, chairs, and a coffee maker. They both set their stuff down inside the door. The tension had created an awkward vibe, a feeling of disconnection that made him want to growl…and seriously take her somewhere more private so he could kiss her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She gave him a look. “Seriously, if you ask me that again, I might shoot you myself.”

Hawk, Stacy, and Tan arrived, stirring the air and adding excitement to the nerves. “Report, Malcolm.” Hawk’s voice came through John’s ear as well as from the room, creating stereo sound.

“Need more time to lose the tail.” Malcolm’s breathless voice came through as a whisper, making the tension in the conference room escalate.

“Left.” Marie’s voice could barely be heard through his Bluetooth, as her voice was being picked up on Malcolm’s receiver. More shouts were heard, and then Malcolm’s voice picked up again. “Get down, Marie.”

Shots were fired, silencing everyone, as if they were all holding their breath.

John found Emily’s horror-filled gaze on him. She’d picked her bag back up, as if ready to go back out.

“Stand down,” Hawk said, as if he’d known, which he probably did. “We wait.”

The heavy breathing over communications continued another drawn out moment.

“Report,” Hawk demanded.

“We’re clear. Taking the long way in. Don’t wait up.”

“Roger that.”

The line dropped.

“Fuck,” Tancredo whispered the same time as John said, “Shit.”

“We move forward with the plans. We get Marcus out of here. Stacy.” Hawk lifted a hand. “Set up. John, take Emily to the women’s room and then head out. We’ll see you back in two hours. By sundown, we’ll be ready to go.”

“Yes, sir.”

John walked her to her door and opened it with the key.

“Text me when you’re back so we can meet up.”

“I like how you think, Emily Rogers.” He still wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t. Not in this hellhole of a place that stoned women for being too loose, for kissing men who weren’t their husbands.

Instead, John put his hand out as if to shake.

And when she put her hand in his…a spark flew between them, warmth rose on his arm, and he never wanted to let go.

“Go. Go find your friend, so we can take him home.”

His heart thumped, but it wasn’t the same lust-filled ache he’d been experiencing. Nope, this time it was more like an emotional need to stay as close to this woman as possible and to be with her until he couldn’t anymore. No, until death.

“Be careful,” he whispered.

“I should be the one saying that.”

He couldn’t tear his gaze from hers. “I hate to leave you.”

“I won’t be alone.”

He nodded, squeezed her hand, and finally tore his eyes from hers and made his retreat back to the first floor.