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“If you really are a Marine,” she said, lowering her voice, “then you can get me out of Syman.”
“My orders are to stay put,” he said firmly.
She held his gaze. “Well, I’ve got information the U.S. Government needs.”
She was incredible. He had to give her points for trying, even though she was wasting her time. “You bargaining with me?”
“What choice do I have?” she shot back. Her arms crossed over her chest, defensive but not afraid. Her voice was taut with urgency, but her posture was unflinching. She believed what she was saying—and that was what made him nervous.
“There are no more outbound flights,” he said. “I can’t get you out on a commercial airliner.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “So telling me to call D.C.—that was just bullshit?”
“No,” he said calmly. “They would’ve sent someone.”
Amber eyes locked with his. “Someone like you?”
He didn’t flinch. “Maybe.”
Yep, probably.
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The military just rolled into Hamabad. People are dying. And it’s heading this way. I need to get out now, before it’s too late.”
He didn’t argue with that.
Student protests had erupted into violent clashes, and the military had responded with force—real force. The kind that left blood on the streets and buildings burned to the ground. Hamabad was only the beginning.
“If they find me—” Her voice cracked at the edges now. “They’ll kill me. I have information they can’t afford to let reach the U.S.”
Tom watched her for a moment longer. Okay, so she wasn’t bluffing. Her fear was real. So was her resolve.
“Let me see the document,” he said again—quieter now, but with just as much weight. That way he could ascertain how much trouble she was really in.
Her eyes met his. “First, you agree to help me.”
He paused.
Truth was, he could’ve wrestled it from her in under a minute. No fuss. A simple takedown, quick search, done. But something in her eyes stopped him—something sharp, proud, unafraid.
God help him, he liked it.
He let the idea of wrestling her flash through his brain. Heat coiled low in his gut.
Instead, he stayed where he was.
Hecouldget her out. If they moved now, before the city went into lockdown. He was itching to do something. His current post was a glorified exile—a holding pattern since the fuck-up in Kabul. They’d benched him after the last op went south. Let him disappear.
But now…?
She looked at him, eyes burning.
“I’d have to get permission.”
Her breath caught. “Then do it.”
“They might still send someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else,” she said. “I want you. I trust you.”