Page 55 of Dangerous Protocol
“Again?” Her gaze panned to the right, and she spotted him standing next to the kiosk for the Korean War Memorial. He was looking at her through a pair of binoculars.
“Humor me.” He continued to watch her.
“Test, test. One. Two. Three.” They’d checked her mic multiple times, but she understood his need to do so again.
He was concerned abouther.
Maya stood with her back to a column. Behind her sunglasses, her gaze continually scanned from left to right and back again. Situational awareness was critical so as not to be caught off guard.
“Heads up.” Calliope’s voice replaced Jeffrey’s. “Target is on the north side of the Reflecting Pool, approximately seventy-five yards from the base of the steps. And he’s got Adnan Bashar with him.”
“Apparently, the king didn’t understand whatcome alonemeans.” Maya pushed up the bottom of her sleeve and checked her watch. “At least he’s on time.”
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Jeffrey’s anger practically vibrated in her ear.
“Adnan is a thinker, not a fighter.” Though who the hell knew what he might do if he felt his longtime friend’s life was in danger. “I’m not concerned about him.” The handgun Jeffrey had given her, currently tucked at the back of her waistband, boosted her confidence. Being forced to travel to the States without her own weapon had left her feeling vulnerable.
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Wolf’s dark eyes peeked at her over the top of an unfolded tourist pamphlet.
He was positioned by one of the giant Doric columns surrounding the memorial and doing his best to blend in. Not an easy task for a fellow who was six and a half feet tall with a menacing aura.
“Al-Mansoori is wearing a jacket,” Viking pointed out.
“Yeah, I see it.” Maya rubbed her nose to hide the fact she was talking to someone.
All kinds of nefarious things could be concealed beneath that coat, and her gut was screaming at her that there was definitely something there. Listening to her gut had kept her and her daughter alive all of these years, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
“I’m off.” She headed down the many steps and waited on the wide concrete walkway.
She watched from the corner of her eye as Nadim strolled casually along the perimeter of the Reflecting Pool, like a tourist enjoying the sites. She knew otherwise. Hidden beneath that calm exterior beat the heart of a ruthless killer and the man who wanted to end her life.
Not today, buddy.
Bashar walked a few steps behind him, as was required by his station. The man was nervous—his shoulders were drawn up, and his head swiveled wildly back and forth. They stopped near a copse of trees, Nadim said something, then Bashar ducked out of sight behind one of the trees.
“You saw that, right, Maya?” Mason asked.
He was lounging back on his elbows, legs stretched out on the grass next to the Reflecting Pool. His reflective aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, and his cowboy hat shadowed his face.
“Yeah, I saw it.” Stealth geniuses, they were not.
A couple of minutes later, Nadim sauntered up to her.
“Ah, Maya Corbett.” He extended a hand. “We meet at last.”
Maya looked down at his hand and back up at him, then propped her hands on her hips.
She watched closely for his reaction to her rejection of his handshake and was not disappointed when she observed a slight flare of his nostrils and a ripple of his jaw. The man was not used to being refused anything, especially by a lowly woman.
“Bashar is moving closer,” Calliope whispered.
“I’ve got eyes on him,” Mason responded.
“I said to come alone.” She lifted her chin toward Bashar, where his head was poking out from behind a bush.
“Adnan is …” He followed her gaze and shook his head. “He is a worrier and insisted on accompanying me.”
“Might as well invite him to the party.” She leaned to look around Nadim, pointed at his friend, and crooked her finger for him to come over.