Page 108 of Duty Preserved

My chest tightened.

“After your people interrupted my crew, I did some homework.” He folded his hands together. “I know your boyfriend’s name. Hughes. I know his partner. Volante. I know what Citadel Solutions is, and I know what they sent their people here to do. Private military contractors embedded in a conservation program. Clever arrangement.”

His chin dipped a fraction. His eyes narrowed, but not with hostility. He wasn’t angry about what Citadel had done. He was impressed, and somehow, that was worse.

“I respect what your people have done with those rangers,” he continued. “I’m not dealing with a few village boys carrying rifles they don’t know how to use. I understand that now. You’ve got trained men on that reserve. Military backgrounds. Professional operators who’ve built something functional out of raw material. I saw it at the interdiction. Disciplined chaps.” He tilted his head. “That’s a real problem for me.”

“So you kidnap someone?”

“I acquire leverage.” He said it without inflection. “I watched your camp, Dr. Calloway. Not just the patrols. The camp itself. I saw how he stays close to you. I saw how he looks at you. You’re not just a colleague to that man.”

My throat was dry. I swallowed against it, and it ached.

“As long as I have you, the man with the training and the guns has a reason to stop using them. He keeps his rangers in the bunkhouse. He lets my crew finish what we came here to do. And when we’re done, he gets you back. Unharmed.”

“And if he doesn’t stop?”

Nasser held my gaze. “Then this becomes less pleasant for you. And he’s the one who will have made that choice.”

I studied him while he talked. His forearms still on his knees. His shoulders loose. No tension anywhere in him. I’d spent years reading predators. A cat displaying aggression is loud—ears flat, fur up. A cat that’s genuinely dangerous goes quiet and still.

Nasser was quiet and still.

The calm wasn’t a performance. This man would hurt me if it served his purpose, and he wouldn’t if it didn’t. I was sitting in this chair, and he was merely looking at an asset on a ledger. A variable in his operation. Something with a value determined entirely by what it could produce for him.

“You don’t know him,” I said.

“We’ll see.”

He stood and crossed the room. He picked up a satellite phone, punched in a number from memory, and held it to his ear.

Two rings.

“Mr. Hughes.” Conversational. Almost warm. “You’re missing something this morning, and I have it.”

I strained to hear. Donovan’s voice came through the phone’s small speaker, a low vibration I couldn’t separate into words from where I sat.

“You’re going to listen carefully,” Nasser said. “Pull your rangers back. Every one of them. No patrols. No waterhole watches. No interference with my people. If you prevent me from having what I want, I will prevent you from having what you want. Forever.”

Donovan spoke. I caught the pitch but not the words.

“She’s right here.” Nasser lowered the phone and held it toward me. “Say hello.”

I leaned forward.

“Donovan.”

His voice came through. Just my name. Just Sarah. And everything underneath that single word told me he already knew. His control clamped down over something barely contained.

“Where are you? Are you⁠—”

“I’m okay,” I interrupted. “I’m not hurt.”

I looked up into Nasser’s face. His flat expression. His hard eyes.

“Don’t give him anything.” The words came before I could weigh them. “Donovan. Don’t give this man a single thing.”

Nasser’s open hand came across my face.