Page 14 of Unintended Love

“Or T and T,” Mia suggested and glanced at Father James. They all looked his way, searching for any sign of recognition of the term. There had been no micro movement, so their gazes returned to Kayla. The acronym stood for tag and track, another handy skill they had been taught by the CIA. With a simple bump, they could plant a tiny transmitter onto someone’s skin and follow them for up to five days. The trick was to find skin. Hands got washed too often, arms were rarely bare, the neck was perfect but difficult to attach.

The houses at Bor began to thin just before Father James made a hard left-hand turn onto a path that looked more like a farm road than one often used. The SUV rocked from side to side as they made their way into the jungle, which quickly swallowed them into darkness. He had to turn on the headlights and light bar over the windshield. Light green leaves the size of skateboards smacked the sides of their vehicle as they splashed through mud puddles that came to the rims of the tall off-road tires. The Catholic priest handled the vehicle with the ease of a man who did this every day.

“Act like a tourist,” the father commanded, barely moving his lips. “They’re watching us.”

Ashlin immediately looked out her window and widened her eyes. She pulled up her phone and pretended to take pictures as though she’d never seen a jungle before.

Within minutes, they came upon a wall of armed guards, forcing them to skid to a stop. No one approached the vehicle. No one spoke to them. After a brief discussion, involving a great deal of neck gesturing between the five men, one of them extracted an older model handheld radio. Thirty seconds later, they parted ways and signaled for the truck to continue.

“Told you,” Father James bragged. “They aren’t going to shoot a priest.”

Less than a mile down the rickety road, it ended in a dusty courtyard.

“Go,” Kayla ordered quietly as she slowly opened her door and stepped outside onto the hard-packed dirt. In a voice louder than needed, she announced, “Girls, I want to look around and figure out the best place for us to start cleaning.”

Ashlin and Piper each jumped out of their doors and started acting like silly girls, camera phones up, seemingly focused on them, recording everything.

“I’m so excited!” Ashlin proclaimed. “We’re finally here. I can’t wait to get started on cleaning this place up. And, eww,” she cringed for the pretend camera as she panned the area, “it needs it.” She was getting great video of the camp layout on her side of the SUV. Three men were watching her, the real camera pointed at them. She turned her short shorts that barely covered her butt toward them and rubbed her free hand over it. “My poor butt hurts from all the bumps.” When she was finished, she looked at them and smiled as she clasped her hands together and squeezed her breasts together, enhanced by the push-up bra under her thin T-shirt, declaring her a member of some unnamed NGO.

In character, she trotted over to the men. “Let’s take a picture together.” Without waiting for their answer, she stood in front of them and held her camera high. She gave the camera that “aren’t I pretty” smile and took the picture. With the image still on her screen, she flashed it in front of their faces and gave them a thumbs-up. They smiled and returned the gesture.

Ashlin glanced over at Kayla and the priest who were walking toward a man who wore a black-and-gray keffiyeh rather than the militaristic hats the other men wore. He had crossed swords topped by two stars on his collar, which in the Middle East military often designated an officer.

“Father, what brings you to our humble camp?” the man seemingly in charge asked, his eyes never leaving Father James, totally ignoring Kayla even though she wore a white, loose-fitting, long-sleeved blouse and a long black skirt that collected brown dust as she walked.

Typical, Ashlin thought.

Their voices disappeared once they walked into the building the officer, obviously in charge, had exited.

Piper popped up beside her and nudged Ashlin. Without a word, they both headed toward a long one-story building. From the original maps, it was divided into several schoolrooms. Along the way they stopped and seemingly took pictures of each other, but in fact, they were photographing men as they walked to the main quad. A few men milled around openly discussing the women. They obviously had no idea that the Ladies all spoke fluent Arabic. Ashlin was forced to school her face at some of the men’s remarks, pretending she didn’t understand. One was particularly rude, describing in detail what he would like to do to her body.

Bold as day, Piper and Ashlin let themselves into the building, each taking a different side of every room, fearing they may be stopped at any moment and forced to stop. The walls were covered in elemental languages, all translated into English as though the students were learning a new language. In another room, the teachings of the Koran covered every inch of the wall. In a third room, maps of the United States covered two walls with enlarged topographical maps of Pennsylvania, Washington, Montana, Arizona, and Tennessee on the other two walls. One glance at Piper showed she was thinking the same thing. These were the states they had studied before leaving on this mission.

When no men were around, they stopped and attempted to upload the pictures, to no avail. If a man walked by alone, they surrounded him and supposedly took selfies. If there were several in a group, they pretended to take pictures of each other while getting as many of the men as possible.

They had just stepped into what was obviously the barracks and had only taken a few pictures when they heard Kayla’s unmistakable whistle. There wasn’t any danger, but it meant “Come immediately.”

When all five women were back at the SUV, Kayla announced, “Girls, I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to work on this camp today.”

Everybody got back in the vehicle, and Father James started to drive back the same way they came. No one spoke until they were on the main road heading back to Bor, and Kayla gave them the all-clear after checking for listening devices.

“Okay, why did we leave so soon?” Mia asked the question they had all been thinking.

Kayla raised one finger as her satellite phone connected with Homeland Security.

“Ops center. Verifying encrypted call. Verified. Go ahead, Lady Lion”

“Target has already been there. Uploading verification now. Proudly displayed behind General Yousuf al Tunisi was a photograph taken in the encampment we just left of the good general and Adeel bin Laden himself. We’re too late.”

“Fuck.” The feminine whispered word bounced around the SUV.

Chapter 6

Clint stared at the email from Ezra Rabinowitz, the ancient but very talented jeweler in Addis Ababa, announcing that the necklace he’d custom-created was ready for inspection. He opened the attached pictures and inhaled sharply. His breath caught as he forgot to exhale. It was more beautiful than he had imagined. It would look stunning around Ashlin’s long, aristocratic neck, with her gorgeous auburn hair that curled under just beyond her collarbone. The golden highlights that often appeared when she was in the sun too much would accent it perfectly.

Thanks to his family’s recent relationship with Zesaro Neberu—the billionaire who owned almost all the mining rights in Ethiopia—Clint was able to purchase the gold from the famous Queen of Sheba mine that formed the heart within the heart pendant, as well as the sturdy chain. Neberu had also found him one of the most beautiful Kenticha emeralds Clint had ever seen. The dark green color was so intense, yet nearly transparent, with none of the black schorl inclusions commonly found in the gems mined on the other side of the mountain from Eden, his family’s compound.

To his surprise, the jeweler had inlaid dozens of small emeralds onto the large outer heart, accented beautifully by the bright gold. He’d have to ask about that added touch. Although it was magnificent, he cringed to see the additional cost. Clint rarely spent any of his own money, living on the Riggs compound, in his parents’ home with plenty of staff to cook and clean. He paid for nearly nothing. As a team leader for his father’s contract special operations company, he was paid very well and had wisely invested for decades. He had more than enough money to cover the price increase.