Page 2 of Rescuing You

Just like that, the relief faded. He froze in the middle of the road, swallowed to keep his emotions in check, then continued more slowly toward his teammate and friend. “Tell me what you know.”

“We got pictures of her boarding a private jet in Berlin.” Stone’s words were delivered matter-of-factly. At just over five-ten, his fellow agent was a few years older and a few inches shorter than Michael—but no less powerful. Any enemy who looked into his eyes knew he was not a man to be discounted. His voice was even when he added, “The guy assigned to Vortex after you left caught sight of him at the airport. Your friend was with him.”

Leila was with Vortex?

No.

The terrorist had been Michael’s primary assignment in Munich for nearly a year, a man whose face he and his team had seen but whose identity they’d never confirmed. His passport named him Assad Ghafran, but no one by that name who was his age—late fifties, maybe early sixties—seemed to exist anywhere. There were no school records, no birth records, no military records. No matter how long Michael watched him or how many of his allies Michael uncovered, he could never ferret out the man’s real identity.

As far as anyone could tell, Assad Ghafran didn’t exist.

Vortex did.

They’d dubbed him “Vortex” because he sucked in the weak and vulnerable—often young, fatherless men—used them for his own purposes, and left chaos and destruction in his wake.

Like a tornado, except Vortex wasn’t a natural disaster. He planned and executed his tragedies for the highest possible casualty rate.

All in the name of his religion, as if he believed in anything but himself.

Vortex was cooking up something, but Michael hadn’t been able to figure out what.

Since he’d been called back to the States when he told his team leader that Leila, the woman he’d been secretly dating, had gone missing, Michael had lost track of Vortex and his movements.

If the terrorist had kidnapped Leila, then he had to know Michael was on his trail. Had he taken her for retribution or leverage or both?

The thought had his hands clenching into fists. Sweet, sweet Leila, captured by that monster.

But she’d been spotted, alive. “Was she all right?” Michael asked. “What did he do to her?”

Stone opened a manila envelope he’d had tucked beneath his arm, then pulled out the contents and laid them across the hood of the car.

Michael studied the glossy photographs.

Sure enough, there was Vortex, an Iraqi, they believed. One of the most dangerous terrorists in the world.

Beside him, Leila Amato. Her long, silky black hair was hidden by a drab brown hijab, her shapely body invisible beneath a black abaya. In the year he’d known her, he’d never seen her don traditional Arabic garb. She was a Christian and seemed eager to put her Islamic roots behind her. She’d never talked about her past, despite Michael’s gentle questioning, as if she wanted to pretend she hadn’t had a life before she arrived in Germany.

Michael could have found out where she was from if he’d wanted to. He could have done a full background check, run her fingerprints. But she was his girlfriend. Not an asset. Not a suspect.

The agent had gotten a clear shot of Leila’s face. Her skin was darker than Michael's and perfectly smooth, making her look closer to twenty than the twenty-nine he knew her to be. She had high cheekbones and full, shapely lips. But it was her eyes that had drawn him in on their first meeting. Gorgeous, almond-shaped, obsidian eyes.

It was Leila, no question about it.

In the hands of a terrorist.

The photographs tracked their progress from an airport terminal, across the tarmac, up the stairs, and into a waiting Gulfstream.

Beautiful Leila, an innocent immigrant, who had nothing to do with Michael’s work, nothing to do with all the ugliness he dealt with on a daily basis.

But if Vortex had realized his movements were being watched, then it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to have someone tail the watcher.

That someone must’ve seen Michael and Leila together. That was the only thing that made sense.

Michael had kept his relationship with Leila secret from his team. But he’d failed to keep her secret from his enemy.

Leila would be safe if not for Michael.

Stone said nothing, just stood beside him, arms crossed. Waiting for…what?