Hit Hard Page 24

  “A very large one.”

  “If this weapon is modified, and they do have the diamond, what’s the capability?”

  “If it works, at the least, it could take down an aircraft.”

  Wyatt pulled out a cell phone, held it up. Jalier autodialed, confident the signal routed back and forth across Europe and Asia before reaching Wyatt’s. He put it to his ear.

  “Send her to me,” the man demanded.

  Jalier leaned close to the woman, nudging her. “Take ten steps forward.” She didn’t move, frightened. He pushed her and she advanced slowly.

  The man walked, gripping the box.

  Viva counted ten and stopped.

  “Viva.”

  She nearly crumbled before his eyes, made a helpless sound. “Hold out your hands.” She did, and Sam laid the box in her hands, curling her fingers around the edge. “Now, turn around and take it to him, then come back to me.” She shook her head. “Jesus, baby, don’t argue.”

  “He’ll kill you,” Viva tried to shout. Get off the roof. But it was just noise.

  He forced her around, holding her upper arms for a moment. “No matter what, do not take the stone out of this box.” Sam was wagering on this bastard being obsessed enough to want to fondle it.

  This close to Sam she didn’t want to move, but Viva had no choice except to walk, marking off her steps. She held out the box like an offering. The brisk wind made her unsteady.

  Sam’s heart jumped when a woman rushed from the lower steps and grabbed Viva’s arm. Viva held on to the box and fought her, but the battle brought her close to the edge of the platform. It was a twenty-foot drop to the roof and nothing stopping her from going over the edge—nine hundred feet to the busy street.

  “Stupid white bitch!”

  I’ve about had it, Viva thought, clawing at the woman, felt her face under her nails, and put her weight behind a punch. Viva clipped her chin, sending her reeling back.

  Sam’s heart slammed to a stop as Viva’s blind struggle with the blowgun woman put her close to the edge. His breath hurt. “Be still! Don’t move!”

  She froze, clutching the box to her chest. A tall, dark-skinned man appeared, armed and rushing the women.

  Zidane grabbed Noor, nearly throwing her toward the stairwell. “You risk everything, woman. Leave it be!”

  “You betray me when I need you!”

  He scoffed. “You’ve betrayed your country a dozen times already. A bracelet is meaningless.” He motioned to his men to hold her, then inched up the staircase.

  Sam saw the armed man poised in the stairwell.

  Behind the mesh mask, Jalier threw an angry look at Noor, then turned toward the woman. He righted her position in front of him, then said, “Open the box.”

  Sam saw Viva turn the box away from herself, latch out, and feel for the opening.

  “Jesus, Sam,” Sebastian said in his ear, watching the monitor, the coin-sized camera set up on the edge of the pad.

  “She won’t take it out.” She opened it, showing the Pharaoh the large, long stone.

  The man ordered her to give it to him. But she shook her head, offering it, letting the box teeter in her hands.

  “Oh, holy Christ. If she—”

  “I know! She’s dead.”

  “Hand it to me!” Jalier shouted over the noise.

  Viva refused, lifting the box higher, Sam’s warning playing in her head. When the man didn’t take it, she let it drop. It hit the platform and tumbled. He’ll be pissed now, she thought, and backed away slowly, completely lost as to her position on the roof.

  Sam shouted. “To your right!” She moved a step, but no farther. “Coonass, now!”

  Jalier looked between the woman and the stone, then suddenly lunged, and grabbed her around the chest. He put the gun to her hooded head. His eyes widened when he saw blades at the edge of the platform, the whirl of a black helicopter rising in the glare of the sun. It rose fast and high, barely making a sound, yet the wind force of the blades unbalanced him.

  Then the nose of the black chopper opened, metal plates folding back over the last and revealing machine guns. The guns rolled sideways and extended. The man in the cockpit smiled, baring his teeth like fangs.

  “I’ll kill her now!” Jalier dug the gun in, forcing her head to the side.

  The woman went slack against him, sliding down his body to the ground. She rolled, came to her knees. Her hands out, she crawled, felt her way.

  Jalier reached for her, but the wind sent the diamond rolling across the concrete slab.

  Zidane rushed from the stairwell, aimed, squinting against the wind.

  “Shoot them!” Jalier ordered. “Tell your men to shoot!”

  Zidane refused. “They will cut you in half!”

  A line dropped from the chopper, looped at the end and the cowboy grabbed it, slipped it over his head and arm as he ran toward the woman. The chopper swept forward with him, guns ready.

  The diamond rolled and Jalier dove for it, knocking Viva. Half-upright, she tottered on the edge, reached out, and felt nothing but air.

  McGill was on the speakerphone. “Commander Chambliss. We’ve seen the hard drive, excellent work, but we have another problem, the machine.”

  “We haven’t located it, sir.”

  “We aren’t certain they’ve manufactured one from the plans.”

  “Considering the situation, do you really doubt that?”

  “Agreed.” He frowned slightly. “NSA tells me your teammate was in Ryzikov’s hotel?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did he have uncut stones, diamonds?”

  “Yes, sir. They’re right here. Our job was to trace the conflict diamonds to the weapons rumored for the purchase. We’ve spotted enough known terrorists to be certain it was going to happen here, within days.”

  “Well, this is it, Silent Fire, but our concern right now is that it’s been modified and its capability depends on a large diamond.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Not what I want to hear, son.” McGill swore he was ready to retire after today.

  “Sir. We have a large stone. Our sources say it’s over two hundred carats.”

  Men sat back, impressed and wary. “Uncut?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at the screen, at the designer, and his nod was a mark of doom. “We need that stone.”

  “Can’t help you, sir. It’s being traded for the life of a woman right now.”

  “Well, stop it!”

  “Sir. This is the woman who killed Ryzikov.”

  “I’ll give her a damn medal, but if they have the machine and that stone, they can magnify the weapon.”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  The line went dead, and McGill looked at the phone. Worst thing in the world was former military. Shot all respect for orders to hell.

  “Get them back on the wire!”

  Viva started to fall.

  Sam bolted across the helo pad as he cracked his whip, the tail snapping around her waist. He yanked her back, clamping his arms around her. Her weight took them over the edge.

  “Oh, God,” Max said, aiming the MP5, watching helplessly as they tumbled.

  Sebastian pulled back on the stick and brought the chopper high. “Did he get her?” he demanded. “Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!”

  “He’s got her!” Max shouted. “Fly! Fly!”

  The chopper lifted straight up, dangling them over the roof.

  The dark man fired, and Max returned it, aiming to kill as the chopper rose above Bangkok.

  The force of the wind kicked the diamond over the edge of the pad. Amid gunfire, Jalier clamored for it, throwing himself on the cement, his fingers closing around the stone. He rolled, shoved it inside his shirt, then pushed himself up. He was on the edge. His vision blurred, the building almost swaying. The street was no more than a thin line eighty stories below. He yelped when heavy hands clamped on his jacket and yanked him back.

  Viva felt the
ground vanish from under her, then arms grab her. She screamed behind the gag, then heard Sam’s voice close to her ear.

  “Hold tight!”

  She clung, her arms and legs wrapped around him, and the chopper rose, then swept across the city thousands of feet above the streets. It’s a good thing she couldn’t see, she thought. She’d be barfing right now.

  She heard a grind of gears, felt the pull of their bodies against the wind, whipping them back and forth like a pendulum as the noise of the engine increased. Then hands grabbed on to her shirt, pulling, and she felt for the cable. For Sam. They pulled them inside.

  Viva shrieked behind the blindfold, tearing violently at the cloth that wouldn’t give.

  “You’re safe, Viva, you’re safe!” Max shouted.

  Hands held her still and the cold steel of a knife ran under the edge of the hood, cutting it. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t rip it off fast enough, and looked up into Sam’s eyes. He yanked off the tape.

  She inhaled a deep breath, then said, “That was your plan? A joyride off the roof?”

  Sam gripped her head, staring into her eyes. Grateful for the chance. “Viva, Viva!”

  She swore in three languages. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that man needs to die! He really needs to die!”

  Her breathing was too fast. “Viva!”

  “What!”

  Sam kissed her. Hard and thoroughly, then pulled back.

  She blew out a breath, calmer, smiling. “You’ll have to work a lot harder than that before I’ll forgive that lousy plan.”

  Sixteen

  In the stairwell, Jalier yanked off the hood and backhanded Noor, sending her reeling down the staircase. “You stupid bitch! You could have ruined everything and gotten us all killed.”

  Noor rose slowly, her gaze darting to the men, to Zidane, then to Constantine. “The bracelet is Thai,” she said calmly, wiping blood from her lip. “And you forget who you touch.”

  He’d done more than touch her, and ignored the threat. “What do you know of history?” Jalier moved past her down the stairwell to the elevator, the fat diamond clutched in his fist.

  Zidane handed the box over to his man, and entered the elevator. They turned to stare at Noor. Blood collected at the corner of her mouth, her eyes black and savage.

  “Compose yourself,” Jalier said, disgusted. “Then we will discuss this new behavior.” The door slid closed. “Assemble the rest of the buyers. Bring them to the compound.”

  Zidane’s face showed his shock. “You’re certain?”

  Jalier slid him a cool glance and Zidane nodded.

  Beyond the doors, Noor boiled with outrage. Pigs, she thought, and retraced her steps to the helo pad. She stood on the mark in the center, her gaze darting around the platform as she remembered Wyatt’s courage, his desperation to save the woman so keen that Noor could still feel it—potent on the air. It left her steaming with jealousy. To have such devotion, she thought, then shook it off. She spun on her heels, wondering where the American had gone, for with him went the bracelet. A piece of her people, and nothing of her own past.

  Only Sam and Viva were in the rear of the chopper, Max in the copilot seat as Sebastian flew them toward the CP.

  His back to the bulkhead, both wearing headsets, he cradled her between his thighs, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He set the comms so they could talk privately. “Anything else you want to bitch about?”

  “Lack of wet, sloppy kisses?”

  “I think I can accommodate that.” Sam laid his mouth over hers with exquisite tenderness and Viva curled into the warmth of his body, wishing they were somewhere else. Preferably naked.

  Sam’s heart instantly jumped and he gripped her tighter. I almost lost her, he thought, and knew that was an adrenaline rush he never wanted again.

  “I really didn’t want to go to England anyway,” she said, between kisses. God, his mouth felt so good on hers.

  “Can’t trust you to behave.” He couldn’t get enough of her.

  “I tried, give me credit. They got me before I even got to the jet hatch,” she told him. Sam was groping her nicely when a ball of paper hit them and they looked up.

  Smiling, Max motioned to turn the headset on to hear him. Sam reached above and flipped the switch.

  “Cutter’s on the wire. He was trying to reach us in the middle of that.”

  Sebastian flipped for all-comms. “We’re on our way back with the package.”

  “Glad you’re okay, Viva, but tell me you still have that stone,” Logan said.

  Inside the chopper, they frowned. “No,” Sam said. “It was the trade, you know that.”

  “Well, NMCC’s been beating up the airwaves, trying to stop us.”

  “For what reason?” There was an edge to Sam’s voice.

  “The HSS machine design on Ryzikov’s computer was modified to increase its distance and intensity with the diamond.”

  “Oh, shit.” Briefly, Sam told her about the HSS machine.

  “Okay, now I feel really guilty,” Viva said.

  “Don’t,” Sam said. “If he didn’t have that one, he’d get another. Rohki had a lot of big stones in Sri Lanka and he’s not the only buyer.”

  “That’s why he wanted uncut stones,” Viva said. “He wasn’t obsessed; he needed one to fit that thing.”

  “The bigger the stone the longer the range,” Sam said.

  “Hell if I know,” Logan said. “So I get to tell McGill they’re a day late and a dollar short?”

  “Figures,” Sam said. “This isn’t over.”

  “It’s like the Energizer Bunny, it keeps going,” Viva said.

  “I’m just glad you didn’t put the diamond back in the box.”

  Viva twisted to Max. “Why?”

  “It was rigged to explode.”

  “So was the roof,” Sebastian said.

  “You guys take way too many risks.”

  Collectively they said, “That’s why we get paid the big bucks.”

  “Then I want a cut.”

  They laughed and Viva pushed her fingers through her hair, then went still and looked up. “That means the box could blow any moment.”

  “That tall guy took it,” Max said with a glance back.

  “Hopefully it will blow them to hell.” Perfect justice, Sam thought.

  “I can stop it from the shack, Viva,” Sebastian said. “I never let an explosive device go wild.”

  “Besides,” Max said. “There’s a tracer in the box.”

  Kashir ran, half-limping in the dark, humidity clinging to his skin. He stopped, fell back against a stone wall, wincing at the jolt. He checked his surroundings, then peeled back the sticky rag from his ribs. Blood soaked the cloth he’d stolen off a line hanging between buildings, and he adjusted the folds, then pressed it harder, trying to hold tight pressure, but he couldn’t. The longer he took, the less time Dragon One would have. He pushed off the wall, staggering for a moment, then focused his direction, thinking the knife might have pierced his lung. It was getting harder to breathe.

  He’d left three dead in the street for the effort. There would be more seeking revenge. In his condition, taking a bus or a cab would bring the police and he didn’t have time to deal with Thai laws. He was out of cash and options except to go by foot, or steal a car.

  Kashir had only one person he could seek out at this hour.

  Exhaustion made his eyes water as Ramesh Narabi studied the large diamond before making the next cut. This, he thought, was the true reason he was kidnapped from his home. The diamond was the largest he’d ever seen and after a preliminary examination, he knew the stone could be cut in one piece and would be nearly as large as the Cullinan. The thought of the prize of India stolen by the British and sitting in the Crown Jewels of England’s monarch made his chest ache. A nearly two-hundred-year-old affront to his people, he thought, then glanced again at the instructions given with the stone.

  His instructions had been simple, demandin
g nothing more than a flawless first water cut with no refractions. Like the last stones. While a faceted cut for this would take nearly a year, without one it would be a matter of hours. He left the stone on the table and went to the sink, splashing water on his face and the back of his neck before grabbing a towel to dry. He wiped slowly, unwilling to face the task ahead. Rebellion was out of the question. His family would suffer for it.

  For Ramesh, all he had left in this world were his children.

  Outside a buyer’s hotel, Zidane heard the voice on the other end of his phone and tensed. “You are never to call me.”

  “I need your help. Now.”

  Zidane slid a lozenge into his mouth. “I can’t accommodate you.”

  “Are you willing to blow this whole thing wide open? I’ve worked damn hard for it, too.”

  “What I am willing to do and what you must are not in tandem.” He cut the line and waved to his man to bring the car. Moments later, he put another buyer into the sedan, and into the shell game of secrecy that was rapidly falling apart.

  McGill didn’t take the news well. “You didn’t think to inform US intelligence sources of this, Commander Chambliss?”

  Logan was tired of being raked over the coals because Viva was alive and the stone was gone. “You know, General, the last time we tried to help, the intelligence community tried to kill us, sir?”

  In the Pentagon, McGill sighed, still feeling the ripple effect of Price’s ruination. With trust obliterated, they’d had to rebuild the clandestine operations from the ground up. “Some notice would have been beneficial.”

  “I sent the damn hard drive as soon as it was decrypted, for crissake. What the hell are you paying all those suits to do?” Logan reeled in his temper. “It swings both ways, McGill.”

  On the other end of the line, McGill blinked. “What do you need?”

  “Tell me what we’re up against, because if you’ve got someone deeper inside, we need to know it. What’s this thing capable of? Aside from being used to brainwash.”