Chapter Three
Elin strode along the sidewalk, her pace brisk. Energy flowed through her body, anticipation in her blood. She was finally on the ground in Africa, and eager to get this mission underway.
She’d just finished meeting with the local law enforcement in Cape Town. As an FBI agent, the chance to work outside the US didn’t come up very often. But occasionally, on certain cases, it did happen. It meant working hand-in-hand with her local counterparts—in this case, the National Intelligence Agency. The local feds were more than happy for her to take the lead on this assignment.
She looked up, her gaze running over the formidable Table Mountain rising high above the city. She really liked Cape Town, with its natural beauty, cosmopolitan feel, and friendly people. She dodged around a group of musicians playing on the sidewalk, and headed toward the bar for her meeting.
Her excitement had nothing to do with seeing Hale Carter again.
A breeze rushed in off the harbor and caught her hair. She took a deep breath of the salty air. Soon, she’d be headed into the desert and her months of undercover work would pay off.
She pushed open the door and stepped inside. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. At this time of day, there weren’t too many people in the place. The establishment was barely one step ahead of seedy, and smelled of stale beer. She headed over to the bar.
Pulling herself onto a stool, she rested her arms on the scarred wooden bar and felt her skin stick. She hid a wince. “Coke, please.”
The bartender had dark, glossy skin, and dark curls that fell down her back. The woman nodded and moved away to get Elin’s drink.
Elin glanced at her watch. Hale should have been here by now. He was three minutes late. She tapped her fingers on the wood.
Someone slid into the chair to her left. “Hey there, gorgeous. Figured you were looking for some company.”
She glanced at the man with the heavy South African accent. He had a square jaw that probably did okay with the ladies, but she didn’t need her FBI training to see he liked drinking a little too much—his face was flushed, and he had broken capillaries around his nose. His blond hair, several shades darker than her own, had a messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed look.
“I’m not.” When the bartender set her drink down, Elin pushed some money across the bar.
“Aw, come on, gorgeous. Women like you shouldn’t be alone.”
She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Trust me, I’m perfectly fine. I suggest you order another drink and head back to whatever rock you crawled out from under.”
“Now you’re just playing hard to get.”
She swiveled her head and shot him a frosty glare. “Better yet, give up the drinking. You’ll live longer. And then, why don’t you head off and think about believing a woman when she tells you something? I’m not interested.”
The man’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. He leaned forward menacingly.
Elin jabbed out with her elbow, catching him in the center of his chest. The man gasped for air, staring at her with wide eyes. He stumbled off the stool, grabbed his drink, and then scurried away.
“You should have just pulled out your Glock and shot him. Would’ve been more merciful.” The masculine voice was deep and smooth, and held more than a hint of amusement.
Elin watched Hale slide his big body into the seat that her would-be admirer had just vacated. She gripped her glass. She’d forgotten the impact he made. Dressed in dark-brown cargo pants and a khaki shirt, and with a hint of scruff on his strong jaw, he was the definition of rugged adventurer.
“Now you know how I deal with unwanted trouble.” She took a sip of her drink. “Welcome to Cape Town.”
He smiled, and even though she thought she was prepared, it made her brain fuzz. Damn him for being so good-looking.
“Nice to see you again, Elin.” He looked around. “Sorry, Alex.”
Alex? Her code name, right.
The bartender re-appeared, and this time, her bored look was replaced by a wide smile. “Can I get you something? Anything?”
Carter turned his smile on the woman. “Coke. Thanks.”
Elin barely avoided rolling her eyes. He clearly knew how to use that smile. The bartender was back in a flash, setting a coaster down and sliding Hale’s drink across to him. Elin noticed that the woman had written her phone number on the coaster. The bartender gave Hale a wink and sauntered away.
“The day after tomorrow, Claude’s planned for us to fly north to Upington,” Elin said. “He has vehicles and supplies waiting for us there.”
Hale’s face turned serious. “I’m ready.”
“The plan is for your THS team to stay on standby. If we get into trouble, we’ll call them in.”
Hale nodded.
“And, if we find the Lost City and can catch Silk Road in the act of stealing ancient artifacts, THS will come in with the local authorities and help us make the arrests. Burke has already organized that with the local NIA and the Namibian Central Intelligence Service. I’ve just come from some meetings with the locals. They have bigger issues to deal with than stolen antiquities, so they’ve been happy for us to take the lead on this.”
“And happy to claim any valuable antiquities or treasures that we find in the process.”
She smiled. “Right.”
“What’s Silk Road looking for in the desert, Elin?”
“I told you—”
He leaned closer, and she got a hint of a woodsy cologne and man. “We both know they aren’t looking for blocks of stone.”
“I can’t divulge—”
“Bullshit.” He crossed his arms. “You want my help, you tell me what I need to know. If you tell me it’s classified, I’m out the door.”
She huffed out a breath. Annoying man. “Okay, Carter. Where are you staying?”
“THS has a yacht down at the marina.”
She slid off her stool. “I’ll brief you on everything I’m authorized to tell you.” When his mouth opened, she held up a hand. “I promise to tell you everything relevant to the mission.”
He studied her for a second, then nodded. “Well, Alex, looks like you and I are going for a stroll by the water.”
***
Hale walked side-by-side with Elin, and kept sneaking looks at her.
Her tight, compact body was currently clothed in cargo pants and a white T-shirt. He tried not to notice how the shirt clung to her deliciously full breasts. Her face was pretty intriguing too, and she hadn’t bothered with much makeup. Her blonde hair glinted in the sunlight, and was once again pulled up in a tight ponytail that drove him crazy with the way it swung from side to side.
Yes, he was intrigued by the interesting and efficient Special Agent Elin Alexander. There was a part of him that just wanted to muss her up a little. To see what she looked like when she let go and got a little flustered.
“Which way?”
Her cool tone snapped Hale out of thoughts that were rapidly heading for X-rated. He cleared his throat. “That’s the yacht over there.” He nodded his head, so that to any bystanders, it would look like they were just having a casual conversation.
Elin made a show of looking across the entire marina. But he knew she’d have memorized the yacht’s location, dock number, and all exits.
Suddenly, her body stiffened. She spun and linked her arm through Hale’s.
He frowned down at her. “What’s going on?” He kept his voice to a murmur.
“I think we have some company.” She tapped his arm, and he saw she was pointing off to the left.
That’s when Hale spotted the man. He was a big guy, one dock over from the THS yacht. He was sitting on a bench, a newspaper in his lap that was barely covering a pair of heavy-duty binoculars. He was staring at the yacht.
“Shit.” Hale pulled out his phone and thumbed the speed dial.
Declan’s deep voice answered. “Ward.”
“Dec. We have company watching the yacht.”
Dec cursed.
“Elin and I will take care of it,” Hale said.
“Do it. Bring them in for a chat.” The call cut off.
“Ready?” Hale asked Elin as they headed toward the man, strolling like a happy couple.
She leaned into him and smiled. “If Silk Road is onto us and they blow our cover…”
Yeah, he knew what it meant. If Silk Road got wind that either the FBI or THS was onto their expedition, they’d disappear so fast that heads would spin.
Or Hale and Elin would end up dead.
Elin leaned into him, those tantalizing breasts brushing against him. She let out a low laugh and the sound speared through him.
Shit, Hale. Focus.
The man had long, black hair pulled back in a tail at the base of his beefy neck. He gave them a quick glance, and then looked away, unconcerned.
Big mistake. Big mistake.
As they reached the man, Elin slipped her arm away from Hale’s. A second later, Hale lunged forward, slamming a punch into the man’s face.
The man flew sideways, falling off the bench. His binoculars clattered on the ground.
But he recovered fast. He leaped to his feet, raising his fists like a boxer. He launched a fist at Hale. Hale dodged, and slammed an uppercut into the man’s gut. He groaned and staggered, and Hale landed another punch to the man’s head, snapping it back.
Elin moved, landing a kick in the man’s back. He went down on his knees, and she jerked the man’s arms up behind his back. She eyed Hale. “Nice moves.”
“You too.”
A faint smile turned her lips up. As she pulled out a zip tie, Hale really wanted to know what she looked like when she smiled outright.
The Silk Road idiot decided to make a last-ditch attempt to escape.
He threw his head back, aiming for Elin. He rammed into her arms and she grunted. The man wrenched his arms free and bounded to his feet. He spun and started running.
Elin took two steps and jumped on the man’s back. She rode him down to the ground. His face hit the concrete, blood spurting from his nose. He yelped and, lightning fast, she yanked his wrists together and tied them.
She stood, dusting her hands off.
Hale stared at her. “I think I’m in love.”
She gave him a look. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. I’m sure it’ll pass.”
Hale leaned down and grabbed a handful of the man’s shirt. He yanked him up.
The guy was making horrible wet noises, blood covering his face. “See thuckin’ roke my ose!”
“Come on, my friend.” Hale spun the man around. “We’ll get you tidied up, and then it’s time for a chat.”
“Thuck you!”
“You don’t want to cooperate.” Hale shrugged. “Then I’ll be happy to let her spend a bit more time with you.”
The man stiffened and went silent. As they neared the yacht, Dec and Coop appeared out of the shadows. Dec glanced at the man and then at Elin and Hale. With a nod, he led them up the ramp onto the yacht.
“Nice to see you again,” Elin said to Declan, not using names.
Dec lifted his chin. “You, too.”
Hale shoved the man across the deck, and pushed him into a chair.
“This is interesting.” Elin yanked up the man’s sleeve. A circular tattoo was inked on his bicep. It held the silhouette of a camel with mountains behind it. “Symbol of Silk Road.”
Dec muttered a curse. “How did you find us?”
The man’s jaw tightened and he looked out to sea.
“I can get him to talk,” Coop said in a quiet, scary voice.
The man’s gaze darted to Coop, and he shifted uneasily.
Elin jerked her head to the opposite side of the deck. Leaving Coop to guard the man, Dec, Hale and Elin huddled.
“I can’t let you guys deal with him,” Elin said quietly.
Hale rounded on her. “What? We need to know what he knows—”
“I need to call my local contact at the NIA. I’m handing him over to them for questioning.”
Hale crossed his arms over his chest. “He won’t talk to them.”
“He probably won’t talk at all,” Elin said. “The main thing is he didn’t recognize either you or me when we approached him. Our cover hasn’t been blown.”
Hale heaved out a disgruntled breath. “Agreed.”
“I’m calling the NIA now.” She pulled out her phone. “When they arrive, you hand him over to them.”
Dec didn’t look happy, but he finally nodded.
“Besides, they might take a little bit of time to get here.” Elin gave them a cool smile.
Hale laughed. God, she was something.
Dec smiled back and looked at Coop. “I think we’ll keep our guest company until then.”
Elin nodded and looked at Hale. “We have a mission brief to go over.”
Hale waved a hand into the main cabin. “After you.” She strode ahead of him and he watched that golden hair swing against her back.
Morgan and Cal looked up from a built-in couch inside. They were eating grilled sandwiches.
“Hey,” Morgan said.
“Morgan, Cal, this is Special Agent Elin Alexander. Morgan Kincaid and Callum Ward.”
Elin shook hands with Morgan and then Cal, who was almost a carbon-copy of Dec with bluer eyes and a readier smile. Then Elin looked down at the satellite maps and the printout of old photos and sketches from Farini’s expedition laid out on the glossy wooden table. “You’ve been busy.”
“I have.” Darcy’s voice came from the tablet nearby.
“I’ve heard good things about your skills, Ms. Ward,” Elin said.
“Darcy, please. And I wouldn’t trust anything Agent Burke tells you.”
Elin raised a brow. “He’s my boss.”
“My commiserations. Now, are we ready to discuss this expedition?”
“Yes.” Dec strode in. “Coop’s having a chat with our friend. Hale’s the lead on this one, I’ll let him do the talking, but Elin…we need to know everything. I won’t risk my man, or try and provide back up without knowing what we’re dealing with. Burke’s always been straight with me.”
A snorting noise came from the tablet.
“The guy talk?” Hale asked.
Dec scowled. “No.”
Hale stepped closer to Elin. He could smell her perfume—that same freshwater smell that made him think of a cool mountain lake. “Why is Silk Road interested in some old rumor about the Lost City of the Kalahari? We don’t think a pile of old rocks would interest them much.”
Elin looked at them all. “It isn’t about the Lost City itself…it’s about what the Lost City really is.”
Hale felt the air in the cabin charge. “Go on.”
Elin clasped her hands behind her back. “Farini kept journals documenting his trip to the Kalahari. When he returned to London, he published several books, and even held public talks in London about his expedition. Strangely, he recorded very little about his discovery of the Lost City of the Kalahari.”
“He was keeping it a secret,” Hale said.
Elin nodded.
“He was planning to come back and exploit something at the city himself?” Hale continued.
“That would be my best guess,” Elin said.
“But what?” Darcy asked.
“Silk Road got its hands on a previously unseen journal of Farini’s. It appears the man was spending a lot of time with a Mistress Strange, an occultist who worked at his circus. She recognized some symbols that Farini saw carved on the rocks of his Lost City.”
Hale leaned forward. Elin was so matter-of-fact in her delivery, he wondered if she felt the same intense curiosity to uncover, the electric charge that made him want to solve a mystery. Or was this just a job for her?
When she turned her head and their gazes met, he suppressed a smile. Oh yeah, she felt it. Her eyes glittered, and he knew Elin wasn’t as cool and composed as she acted.
“What were the symbols, Elin?” Hale asked.
“They were a pentagram inside a circle, and the symbol of two closed, interlinked loops.”
Darcy gasped. “The Star of David and Solomon’s Knot. Symbols of King Solomon.”
Murmurs filled the cabin.
“Wait.” Dec held up a hand. “The King Solomon from the Bible?”
“That’s the one,” Elin said.
“So,” Hale said. “You’re saying that Silk Road believes that the Lost City of the Kalahari is linked to King Solomon?”
“Ever heard of Ophir?” Elin asked.
The name tweaked something in Hale’s head, but he couldn’t remember what.
“Ophir?” Morgan said, straightening. “I’ve heard Zach mention it recently.”
Morgan’s boyfriend was a history professor, who worked at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science.
“Ophir was mentioned in the Bible,” Morgan said. “Every three years, the Kingdom of Ophir sent a shipment of gold, diamonds, ivory and other treasures to King Solomon.”
Cal let out a whistle. “Sounds like quite a haul for those times.”
“Wait a second.” Dec turned to stare at Elin. “Are you talking about King Solomon’s Mines?”
Morgan grinned. “I love that movie.”
Elin’s nose screwed up. “We aren’t talking about low-budget adventure movies. King Solomon received gold and other valuables from somewhere.”
“There are all kinds of speculations on where Ophir might have been located,” Darcy said, the sound of tapping keyboard keys punctuating her words. “In Arabia, in North Africa, in southern Africa. Hell, the Solomon Islands in the Pacific are named for Solomon, and the belief that Ophir was an island nation.”
Hale shifted. “But Silk Road believes that Ophir is the Lost City of the Kalahari?”
“Yes,” Elin said. “We all know that southern Africa is riddled with gold and diamond mines. It makes sense.”
“So they’re after old gold and diamond mines?” Dec shook his head. “Even if they discover it, whatever country the mines are located in, the government will notice and boot Silk Road out. It’s got to be more than that.”
Hale watched the minute expressions on Elin’s face. “There’s treasure.”
Elin shot him a look. “Yes. There’s treasure.”
“Fuck,” Dec cursed.
Hale knew how Dec felt. Treasure tended to make things a lot more volatile and dangerous. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Dec said. “I’m not taking my team in blind.”
Elin shoved her hands in her pockets. “I’m not lying. Claude hasn’t trusted me with the information. The man is paranoid. From the snooping I’ve managed to do, it is some sort of treasure linked to King Solomon.”
“I’ll start running some searches,” Darcy said.
“I wish I had more for you,” Elin said. “And as soon as I do, I’ll pass it on.”
Dec ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. Hale will be with you on the expedition. The plan is for me, Coop, Cal, and Morgan to fly into Windhoek in Namibia. We’ll wait for you there with a chopper on standby. If you need backup, you call us.” Dec’s gaze landed on Hale. “Don’t take any risks, Hale.”
“How will we be able to contact you?” Elin asked. “We can’t risk a sat phone or something that Silk Road can trace. And conventional phones aren’t going to work out in the desert.”
Hale smiled. “Leave that to me.”
“Oh?”
Dec smiled. “Hale’s our resident gadget man.”
Elin eyed Hale. “You’re full of surprises.”
He grinned at her, his lips twitching. He wanted to say something suggestive, but with all his friends around him, he bit his tongue. Besides, he didn’t want to end up on the floor with his hands zip-tied.
As Dec and Elin ironed out some more logistics, Hale looked at the maps and photos on the table. Red-orange sand dominated the images, and for a second, he flashed back to another unforgiving desert, one that had chewed him up and spat him out. One that had taken his fellow SEALs.
Hale shifted so fast, he knocked over a chair. He grabbed it and righted it.
Elin turned his way. “I have to go. So, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
After nodding at the others, she spun and walked out. She had a stride that warned she was a woman on a mission, and not to get in her way.
“Better not step out of line, Hale,” Morgan murmured with a grin. “Or Agent Alexander will show you who’s boss.”
Hale fought back a smile.
Cal snorted. “Something tells me the man might enjoy that.”
“Enough.” Hale headed down the stairs to the lower level. “I have some prep work to do.” He wanted to check his gear. He needed to test out the small comms patch he’d developed, and finish up with his grappling gun.
“Pizza for dinner,” Morgan yelled. “It was Dec’s turn to cook, so I decided to save us from a bout of food poisoning.”
“I sign your paychecks, remember, Kincaid,” Dec growled.
In his cabin, Hale pulled out one of the small, experimental comms patches. It was no bigger than his thumbnail, and as thick as a few layers of skin. It was satellite-linked, and used bone conduction technology to send and receive audio via vibrations through the skull. He’d designed the little sucker to stealthily piggy-back off any existing satellite tech in range.
He hadn’t had a chance to test it in the field…so this mission was a test run combined with the real thing. Shit, he hoped it worked.
Sitting at his desk, he touched the clear patch. It was designed to go behind his ear and when activated, he’d be able to communicate with the THS team in Windhoek. He pulled out his small travel toolkit, unwrapped his tools, and set to work.
When he finally raised his head, his neck was stiff, and outside, night had fallen. He realized his left hand ached, and he looked down at his little finger. It sat at a twisted angle and was covered in scar tissue.
It was a daily reminder of what he’d survived. What the insurgents had done to him and his fellow SEALs: Sean, Dutch, Clem, Chris, and Shep. Hale blew out a breath. So he’d been tortured? So he saw his buddies in his dreams every night? He’d survived and his friends hadn’t. He flexed his deformed finger and shook his head. He needed to focus on his latest mission.
His cellphone rang. Frowning, he picked it up and saw that Elin was calling.
He smiled, but only for a second. For the ever-efficient Agent Alexander to be calling him, it meant something was wrong.