Page 17

She slapped her palms onto her thighs. “Wait. There’s more. I forgot to mention the evacuation plan. That was part of the memo, too.”
“Out of the country?” he asked.
She nodded. “It included detailed instructions on when and how to leave the capital, even listing the various safe houses.”
“Safe houses?”
“Yes. You know? Locations where they’d hide until the chaos died down. It would let the regime operate from the shadows while pretending they still had control.”
Hell, that kind of intel was priceless. To think he could be the one to deliver it.
“Do you have the actual locations?” he asked, carefully, his heartbeat kicking up a notch.
“I do.” She nodded emphatically. “There are five total. Two inside Syman, three in neighboring countries.”
“We’ll know where he’s hiding,” he murmured. It was the kind of intelligence field embassy agents had been chasing for months. And now, it was sitting right across from him in one frazzled, desperate, beautiful package.
Hannah leaned toward him, and he caught a whiff of jasmine. Sweet, delicate, made more potent by her body heat. “Do you think that warrants a personal escort out of the country?”
Fuck, yeah.
“I’d say so.” He kept his tone measured. “But I’ll have to clear it with my commanding officer.” And before that, he wanted to see the document with his own eyes.
She seemed satisfied. “Best you do that, then.”
Tom stood. He’d contact his CO. With any luck, he’d be granted new orders—orders to escort Hannah Evans and her high-value intel straight out of Syman.
“Right, then. I think it’s time you show?—”
A sharp crash cut him off. Glass shattered somewhere nearby, followed by the acrid sting of smoke filtering into the room.
He jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle in one swift motion.
“Stay here,” he snapped, already heading for the door.
CHAPTER 6
Fear clamped around her chest like a steel trap.
Not again.
She’d only just begun to feel safe. There was something grounding about Tom. It wasn’t just that he was tough, which he definitely was. She’d seen firsthand that he could fight. He’d killed that operative within five minutes, if that. And the brute had been a soldier in the State Security force.
It was more than that. It was the way he carried himself, so calm and assured, the kind of confidence that came from years of elite training. He was a U.S. Marine, and when she was with him, she felt protected.
But now…
Shouting erupted from somewhere beyond the embassy walls, followed by another crash. She cringed.
Holy crap! Were they under attack? Was this the angry swell of a street mob?
Or was this them? Had they come for her?
Prince Hakeem wouldn’t dare strike the U.S. Embassy. Would he? This was American soil. It would be seen as an act of war.
Her heart hammered in her chest while she waited, her eyes locked on the door.
Deep down, she knew.