Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 10) (8 page)

With that pronouncement he walked away, leaving her in agonized anticipation of what was coming.

****

Adam stifled an irritated sigh and rubbed at his burning eyes before focusing back on the satellite image displayed on the large flat screen mounted on the wall at the end of the room.

A Jordanian intelligence official was detailing the features of a remote village up near the northern border with Syria. The ATB and other militants were known to use the area for infiltrating across the border and back, and some analyst somewhere thought this might be a likely place for them to stash a couple of captives.

Adam was fast moving past being frustrated into angry territory.

They still didn’t know where Summer was, or the name of the person behind the attack. It was driving him insane. The longer they sat here on their asses, hoping for something helpful to come in, the higher the chances were that Summer and the others were running out of time.

Nothing they’d tried so far had yielded any results. Both locations they’d scouted before dawn this morning hadn’t turned up anything.

Everyone they’d questioned so far claimed to know zip about yesterday’s attack or abductions. None of the intelligence sources had panned out. All the satellite and drone footage they’d reviewed so far had been useless.

He shifted restlessly in his seat, the need to get up and do something constructive pricking him with a thousand sharp needles.

The door swung open and the director walked in, heading for the front of the room with purposeful strides. DeLuca was right behind him. “Sorry for the interruption,” he began, taking his place in front of the desk. The Jordanian officer stepped aside to give him room. “I’ve just received confirmation of who was behind the attacks.”

Adam’s spine jerked taut. He leaned forward, all ears.

The director paused a moment to type something into the laptop sitting on the table, and a man’s picture came up on the screen. “Tarek Hadad.”

Adam stared at the picture, didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until his lungs started to burn. His knuckles ached from the pressure of squeezing his hands into fists.

Now he had a name and a face for his target. That fucker had taken his wife. The need to storm out of the room and hunt the bastard down was so strong it was all he could do to sit still.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced back to find Cruzie behind him, his teammate’s golden brown eyes intense. “We’ll hunt him down, man.”

Adam nodded and turned his attention back to the front. He couldn’t wait for the chance to get out there and nail that motherfucker.

The director glanced at him briefly, then continued. “He’s a mover and shaker within the ATB. Over the past few weeks he’s been escalating his operations within Syria, trying to gain favor with the higher-ups. No one’s sure when he made it across into Jordan. I’ve got analysts working on the details now and I’ll pass it along to you as I receive it.” He paused a moment, signaling something else important was coming.

Adam didn’t have to wait long. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of DeLuca watching him, but ignored that, too focused on what the director was about to say.

“Another point of interest is that over the past few months, the ATB has been closely affiliated with the Qureshi network, run out of Afghanistan and tribal Pakistan.”

At the mention of Qureshi, Adam, his teammates and the director all turned to look at Schroder. The former pararescueman’s face was blank with surprise, obviously not expecting this little twist.

“In light of the situation and the tight timeline we’re working with, I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting Taya Kostas,” he continued, naming Schroder’s girlfriend before nodding at DeLuca. “You all know her, and what happened to her. After reviewing her previous interviews and court transcripts, we feel she may have more relevant information that might be of use to us in this investigation.”

Schroder rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin, looking uneasy at the announcement.

A knock came at the door and an aide popped her head in. “I’ve got Ms. Kostas on the line,” she said. When the director motioned her over, she passed him the phone. “It’s on speaker.”

“Ms. Kostas, this is Director Foster. I’m here with SA Schroder and his team, along with some other intelligence officials. Thank you for your time.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she answered, her soft, calm voice filling the room. “I was told there’s something to do with the Qureshi network you wanted to speak to me about.”

“That’s correct. Before this goes any further, I need to inform you now that everything about this conversation is classified.”

“Understood, and my phone is secure.”

Adam listened as Foster detailed what was going on, bringing her up to speed on the situation with Summer and the other two hostages. He told her the bare basics only, leaving out the details.

“Summer Blackwell,” Taya said. “You mean Adam’s wife?”

From across the room Foster met his gaze, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “That’s correct.”

“Can Adam hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Adam, I’m so sorry.”

He hated the sorrow in her voice. Sorrow because she thought Summer might already be dead. He refused to accept that.

“Thank you,” he made himself say. It was probably hard for Schroder to hear her right now, to have her dragged into this without any warning, and not be able to talk to her in private first. “I’m hoping you can help us.” He wasn’t sure what information she had, but he knew she’d been held captive for a long time and must have solid insider info, otherwise the director wouldn’t have brought her in.

“I’ll help in whatever way I can. What is it you want to ask me, Director?”

Adam hung on every word as she answered specific questions about Qureshi’s network at the time of her captivity, and their possible ties to the ATB. Most of it he hadn’t been aware of, and he knew that’s why the director was asking her in front of everyone.

Foster had no doubt been briefed on all this months ago, but he wanted them all to understand what he was getting at. Taya confirmed there had been connections between the two groups while she was held prisoner in Afghanistan.

Near the end of the conversation, Foster crossed his arms and spread his feet apart. “So let’s get right down to it. I’m sorry for the bluntness, but I need to ask. In one of your previous interviews you said that during your captivity you came into contact with female hostages either bought from or sold to the ATB.”

“Yes. Several that I knew of. I overheard Hassan talking to Qureshi one night about it. The ATB would sell female captives to Qureshi in exchange for heroin or weapons smuggled out of Afghanistan.”

Adam leaned forward and steepled his hands over his nose and mouth, his heart slamming hard against his ribs. The thought of Summer being sold as some fighter or warlord’s slave turned his stomach inside out. He was terrified for her. After what she’d already endured and all the emotional baggage she’d worked so hard to unload, being raped would surely shatter her.

Foster nodded in confirmation, then asked, “We have access to several prisoners you’ll be familiar with. You have firsthand knowledge of these guys and I want you directly on hand because these are high value hostages and we need to find them as soon as possible. I’d like to bring you on board as a contractor, per se. In the interest of convenience and efficiency, would you be willing to fly here and assist us with the investigation in person?”

A surprised pause followed the question. Adam shot a sharp look over at Schroder. Three seats down from Adam, the medic was scowling, his expression full of alarm.

Adam felt bad for him. He didn’t blame Schroder for not wanting Taya anywhere near this hemisphere after all she’d gone through, let alone digging all this up again. But if it helped them find Summer…

“Yes, of course,” she answered, and Adam wanted to hug her. She was so brave, always standing tall in the face of whatever life dealt her.

Schroder apparently couldn’t take it anymore. “Tay, are you sure?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yes, Nathan. I want to help, and if something I know can help get Summer back, then I have to do this. So I’m coming.”

“Thank you,” Foster told her, and Adam added his silent thanks as well. “How soon can you leave?”

“Almost right away,” she answered. “I just need a few hours to clear my schedule and get to the airport.”

“We’ll arrange a flight for you, then have an agent come to escort you to the airport. Someone will accompany you on the flight here.”

“I’ll call Celida,” Tuck interjected from beside Adam. “She’ll take you to the airport.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks,” Taya answered.

Foster ended the call and the meeting broke up a few minutes later. Adam stood and immediately turned to Schroder, feeling a little awkward about what had happened.

“Hey,” he began, but Schroder shook his head to stop him and held up a hand.

“It’s okay, man. Taya’s right, and I know she’s strong enough to handle this. If she can see something that might help us break this case open, then I want her here too.”

“Thank you,” he managed, voice rough. He hoped like hell Taya would be able to give them a clue, a detail they were missing that would enable them to get a location on Summer.

Schroder clapped a hand on his shoulder, gripped tight. “We’re family. We take care of our own.”

Adam nodded, throat too tight to speak. They
were
family. A band of brothers. And he honestly didn’t know what he’d do without them right now.

Seven years ago

Damn, it was good to be home.

Adam literally felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he walked up the front walkway to Summer’s D.C. townhouse. His contract with the Army had been fulfilled and he was finally free to move on to something else. He’d miss the guys he served with but it was definitely time for him to switch gears, both professionally and personally.

He was moving forward with his life, and he wanted Summer at his side for the rest of it.

He’d been back from his final combat deployment for a few days already but had been busy tying up loose ends with paperwork and bank accounts, having his stuff moved up from Fort Bragg here to D.C. He already had an interview lined up for later in the week.

With his background, service record and letters of recommendation, he had a good shot at being accepted into the FBI. He wanted to make their Hostage Rescue Team one day.

He slid his key into the front lock, looking forward to what the night held. The time change, errands and Summer’s erratic work schedule meant they hadn’t seen each other much since he’d been back.

She’d been there to meet him at the airport, hair all done up, wearing one of her retro dresses and a blinding smile just for him. She’d lit up the moment she’d seen him, and raced straight for him, then blushed six kinds of red when Trevor had come up to hug her.

That picture of her waiting there to greet him would always be etched into his memory. He’d dropped his ruck and duffel, grabbed her and lifted her off the ground for a kiss filled with all the hunger and need that had built up during his absence. She’d been through the separation of three different combat deployments with him, but this latest reunion was the sweetest because they both knew it was the last.

The moment he stepped into the foyer, the smell of something awesome greeted him. Grilled meat and something sweet. Grinning, he set his backpack down in the foyer and called out jokingly, “Honey, I’m home.”

“Back here.”

He took off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. “Whatever you’re doing in here, it smells amazing.”

Summer looked up from behind the center island, where she stood putting the finishing touches on dinner, and smiled. She had on the frilly black-and-white vintage apron she’d bought with him at a market last year. “I made your favorite. Grilled steak Oscar with roasted asparagus and buttered mashed potatoes.”

His stomach growled and he almost groaned as his mouth watered. “I haven’t eaten anything close to that caliber in over nine months.”

She shot him a knowing grin. “I know. That’s why I wanted to spoil you a little.”

She did spoil him and he loved it. “Need a hand?”

“Yeah, you want to grab the wine?” She turned away to cross to the counter behind her and he stopped dead, his tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Jesus, she was wearing heels and that apron—

And nothing else.

He stared at the way the open back of the apron perfectly framed the pert little curves of her ass, those fuck-me red heels emphasizing every muscle in her bare legs.

She stopped at the counter to shoot a look at him over her shoulder, raised a red eyebrow. “Adam.”

Huh? He dragged his gaze up to her face.

Her lips twitched. “The wine.”

Fuck the wine.

He erased the distance between them in three strides and grasped her hips in his hands, pulling her back against him. “I want to bend you over right here and fuck you from behind until you scream my name,” he growled against the side of her neck, pausing to give her a little love bite in the sensitive spot he knew made her shiver.

Summer laughed softly and wriggled her ass against the hard line of his erection shoved against his zipper. “Maybe after dinner. I don’t want the fillets to get cold.” Then she reached up to cup the side of his face in one hand and turn her lips up to his. The kiss was slow and sexy, her tongue teasing his with the promise of what would happen once they finished eating.

With a low hum of appreciation, he let his hands wander over the curve of her hips to her waist, up to cup the round swells of her breasts. “I love this apron.” He’d never dreamed an apron could be this sexy.

Another laugh. “I knew you’d change your mind about it eventually.” She grabbed the blender from the counter and deftly poured what looked like hollandaise sauce over the steaks nestled on their beds of mashed potatoes, then added some crabmeat and the roasted asparagus on top.