Jason paused a moment and then unloaded. "Jude left."

"What do you mean left?" When Jason remained silent, Carlton continued, "Oh, don't f.u.c.king tell me he pulled a disappearing act on her again. I'll hunt his a.s.s down and kill him myself."

Jason smiled. He'd have to get in line if Jason didn't know better this time. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't do any good. But nevertheless, that doesn't explain where Lori ran off to."

"s.h.i.t. I'll go check the club."

"I'll go see if she's at Jude's house. Maybe she went there to cool off."

"Good plan. I'll call you in a bit." Carlton broke off the call, leaving Jason holding the phone and wondering what sort of rabbit hole he'd descended.

Chapter Twenty.

Jude inched forward behind his closest buddy from the force, Ike. They squatted down behind a group of bushes and peered through their binoculars at the warehouse. "What do you think are the chances he's really in there?"

Ike glanced over his shoulder with a wry grin. "Slim to none. He doesn't operate this way."

"That's what I was thinking. So this has to be a decoy."

"That'd be my guess."

"Why?" Jude wanted his best man's take on what was going down.

"Got me, man. It's crazy. Why would he hole up in this shack with all his people and wait for us to come surround him? It's like he knows we're out here and he's going to come up from behind. He's an a.s.shole of the largest sort, but he isn't stupid. He'd be a sitting duck if he were in there." Ike shook his head. "I'm not buying it."

"Me neither." At least they were on the same page. "So what do you think we should do?"

"Watch our backs, that's for sure."

Jude agreed, and for emphasis he turned around. Nothing.

A voice came over Jude's earpiece. "We move forward ten yards on three. One, two, three."

Jude stayed on Ike's back as they duck-walked closer to the warehouse. "What the f.u.c.k is this guy playing?" His question was rhetorical and Ike didn't answer.

They watched, straining to see any sort of movement behind any of the windows. They shouldn't. The gla.s.s was too high for a man standing on the ground, but just in case.

"Ten more on three. One, two, three."

Everyone moved. They'd been here for hours. Something didn't feel right. Jude didn't like the way his skin crawled. He looked through the binoculars for the millionth time. As far as he could tell, there was no evidence anyone was in the warehouse, let alone one of the world's most-wanted terrorists.

"What sort of intel are we following here?" Ike asked. "I don't get it. If they were in there, they'd be coming and going. Are we sure they aren't onto us?"

Jude said nothing. He strained to see any sign of life in a panoramic sweep of the area. "Did anyone check to see if there was some sort of underground system running from this warehouse?"

"Yep. Nothing on the grids."

A distant noise caught Jude's ear. A vehicle. It grew closer. h.e.l.l, it barreled right past where he and Ike were kneeling and straight up to the front door of the building. How had it gotten past the security check point on the road?

Jude pressed his mic. "What's going on, Stanton? How'd this truck get here?"

Silence. Static. And then his earpiece lit up with foul language. "What the f.u.c.k is going on out there? Unit four, respond, please. Unit four... h.e.l.lo? Unit four, please respond." Stanton screamed a few more obscenities. "G.o.ddammit, unit four, what are you doing? f.u.c.k..."

Jude held still. If the security checkpoint was breached, it could be that unit four was dead. No wonder his hackles were at an all-time high.

One man jumped from the truck and rapped on the door to the warehouse. Jude watched him through the binoculars. Middle Eastern. Someone opened the door and stepped out. The two men conversed for a moment, the guy from the truck pointing at the truck bed.

The man from the warehouse nodded and then flipped the hatch down and reached in to drag something from the bed.

f.u.c.k, not something, someone. There was no mistaking the human form. Someone medium-sized, wrapped in a gunny sack and wiggling to get free. The man from the truck threw the body bag over his shoulder and hefted it higher before entering the building behind the second man.

f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k f.u.c.k f.u.c.k. What the h.e.l.l was Sharik playing at? A hostage? Who? From where? Why?

The door closed. s.h.i.t.

Jude took a deep breath. He narrowed his gaze on the entrance to the warehouse, hoping someone else would come out or the man from the truck would leave so they could grab his a.s.s on the road. No such luck.

Stanton droned on in Jude's ear, but he was still eying the front door.

"So much for our theory that Sharik wasn't in there," Ike whispered.

"Yeah." Jude leaned forward and held a branch aside. "Although it could just be his men."

"Do you think it's all staged?"

"Yep, but that doesn't change the fact that we need to move in. If they're holding someone hostage, we need to pick up the pace." Jude pressed the b.u.t.ton on his mic. "Stanton."

"Yeah, I know, dammit. I'm working on it."

Jude waited another minute and then spoke to his commanding officer again. "We need to move, Stanton. What's the word?"

"I can't get anyone from unit four even individually."

"So we move in."

"Yes. On three. Everyone respond please. Units one, two, three and five, do you copy? On three we move in."

The leader of each group confirmed he got the message, and Stanton gave the signal. "One, two, three."

Jude stood, his legs stiff from crouching for so long. He kept low but moved at a near run for the side of the building. His gear was heavy. He hadn't worn it in months. And it would hardly protect him from the kind of artillery Sharik would be carrying.

He hit the side of the building at the same time as everyone else. They had the place surrounded. It made his stomach roil. What the f.u.c.k was Sharik's game? That b.a.s.t.a.r.d was on Jude's last nerve. He touched his pocket to confirm his grenades were still attached. He had two. All of them did. It was part of their uniform. But no one else in his unit was planning to use theirs. That was between Jude and his G.o.d.

He'd love for this fight to turn out another way, but the deck was stacked against him. Abdul Sharik was going down today one way or another. And Jude knew his best bet was to beat the man at his own game-suicide bomber.

Jude held his rifle with his right arm and pointed at the entrance to the building with his left. Men on the other side of the door nodded at his signal.

Jude glanced both ways, making sure the truck he was inching behind wasn't a trap.

Jude held up three fingers consecutively, indicating the men closest would go on his count. When he got to three, Jude and five other men jumped in front of the door. It was a flimsy metal closure. Nothing they couldn't kick in with their feet, and they did. In two solid roundhouses from his strongest men, the door swung open.

The entrance was dark and Jude waited a second to enter, letting his eyes adjust. His men scattered into the warehouse, flanking him.

Someone clapped. Just one person, as though they were at a fantastic stage performance, but all alone. Suddenly overhead lights came on. "Welcome, my friend. So glad you decided to join us." Sharik's voice, which Jude had only ever heard a few times, reached in and grated on his nerves.

The man stood in the center of the wide-open s.p.a.ce of the warehouse, pacing around in a circle. Four other men with high-power weapons stood ready to shoot.

Sharik stepped around as relaxed as if he were having a dinner party. He didn't carry a weapon that Jude could easily see. Though Jude knew the man was armed in some capacity.

Men were s.p.a.ced around the room at every corner. People were going to die here today. Jude was going to be one of them. He regretted that some of his men were going to go down too. There would be no way to avoid it.

However, none of that was nearly as important as the squirming body tied in a sitting position to a chair in the middle of the center circle.

Sharik looked to his men. "Where are our manners?" His English was halting, but nearly perfect. "Have a seat, Sergeant Cavanaugh. You're just in time for the show."

Jude kept his gaze on the struggling person on the chair. No sound came from the bag. Whoever was inside was gagged and might not be getting enough air.

G.o.d almighty, Jude hoped the rest of his men had a plan that involved some sort of rescue. The last thing he wanted was a dead civilian on his hands.

The hostage squirmed again, violently, making the chair fall over. The person hit his head hard and stopped moving.

f.u.c.k. Hopefully the hostage was knocked unconscious, not dead.

Sharik spun on his heel at the commotion. But when he leaned down to right the chair, a bullet rang out across the room. Whoever was in the bag was better off supine. Righting whoever it was would only make him a target. Jude's men knew that. The warning shot ricocheted off the wall behind Sharik. It came from the open doorway.

They'd been instructed to take Sharik alive if at all possible. Jude had never expected that to be a choice, but he'd do his best to follow orders until it was no longer realistic.

Sharik righted himself, holding his hands up. He chuckled. "All right, boys. No need to get feisty. I was just going to help our friend here."

"Leave him be," Jude said. "Unless you want to leave here in a similar body bag, I suggest you leave the hostage alone. Your beef is with me, Sharik, not the hostage."

Sharik stepped back, a smirk on his face. "How nice of you to come, Sergeant Cavanaugh. I knew you would join us. After all, it's a party." Sharik spread his arms wide, indicating the entire s.p.a.ce was his domain.

Another shot rang out and hit Sharik in the leg. A second followed, hitting his other leg before he realized he'd been hit the first time. Sharik screamed and fell to his knees. "You're a dead man, Sergeant Cavanaugh."

"I'm ready for whatever you've got." Jude flinched as gunfire rang out all around him.

Jude ducked behind a stack of pallets and aimed at every b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the room who wasn't Sharik. It wasn't hard considering the man now lay on his side on the floor, moaning in pain. He was only a few feet from the hostage and dragged himself closer an inch at a time.

The last thing Jude wanted was for that rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d to get to the hostage and kill someone innocent. He switched his aim and shot a warning round at Sharik's extended arm.

Sharik wailed and used his only free limb to hold the injury.

Men fell all around him as his Special Forces unit picked off Abdul's supporters. Many were probably American citizens, planted years ago and lying in wait for an opportunity such as this.

Jude's team flooded in behind him and spread out. Through his earpiece he could hear his commander reminding everyone to take Abdul alive if at all possible.

Jude kept one eye on Sharik and one eye on his surroundings. He worked his way around the edge of the wall until he could pounce on Sharik from behind. And then he took his opportunity.

Sharik screamed when Jude landed. Jude dragged the man toward the closest wall and held him against his chest as a human shield. He gripped his chin and stuttered into his ear, "You f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Is this how you wanted to die today?"

Jude was still confused about Sharik's motives. After all, the man had been a sitting duck.

Sharik chuckled as though Jude had told him a joke, not the voice of man suffering from three gunshot wounds. "You don't get it, do you, Cavanaugh?"

Jude squeezed his face harder. "I guess I don't," he gritted out. "Why don't you enlighten me, you f.u.c.ktard?"

"I don't give two cents about dying. As long as I take you down with me, that's all that matters." He laughed manically, yanking his chin free and tipping his head back into Jude's chest.

The room was loud. Bullets rained everywhere.

"Better tell your men to be careful. I have it on good authority that pretty lady over there is something special to you."

Jude froze. "What the f.u.c.k are you mumbling about, a.s.shole?"

Sharik nodded at the still form of the hostage. "If she didn't already kill herself first." He laughed again. "She was feisty. I couldn't keep her still."

Jude saw stars. He held Sharik and shook his head, trying to clear it. Lori? Was that even possible? He'd left her in Jason's hands this morning. No way.

He needed to shake the feeling and do his job. Sharik was playing with him. Jude knew that. And even if Sharik wasn't and he'd somehow gotten his slimy hands on Lori, Jude still needed to concentrate on the job. The hostage would have to wait until the job was done.

Jude set his pistol to Sharik's skull and pressed hard enough to leave an indentation.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why is that?" Jude gritted out.

"This room is rigged to blow. In fact, it's a wonder your men haven't set off the explosives themselves with all that gunfire. You shoot me, you kill us all."

Jude tipped his gaze to Sharik's free hand, the one that had been shot. Sure enough the man held up a remote device-and he was barely holding down the b.u.t.ton.

Jude glanced at the body lying tied to the chair. What if it is Lori?

It all came clearer now. Sharik hadn't come here just to kill Jude. He was on a suicide mission, as were all his men. Their instructions-to take out Jude at any cost.

And therein lay the crux of every mission in the Middle East. These b.a.s.t.a.r.ds didn't have any value for their own lives. They preyed on others with ease, because dying to them was a means to an end. It wasn't something they had any hesitation about. But what gave them the upper hand was knowing the value Americans did put on human life.

In fact, they found it humorous that in the United States, even the most loathsome evil were kept alive, not slaughtered like cattle.

Jude stared at the b.u.t.ton, Sharik's finger beginning to shake with the stress of holding it down with his damaged arm. "What's it going to be, Cavanaugh? Either you surrender to my men or I kill all of yours."