Page 40
Story: Sweet Betrayal
She stared toward the base. A military aircraft sat on the runway, just beyond the fence, being prepped for takeoff. So close, yet out of reach.
A sob rose in her throat as she realized—she’d never make it onto that plane now.
“Put your hands where I can see them,” demanded a low voice. d
Hannah nearly wept with relief.
Tom.
He’d found her—and just in time. She tried to turn, but the swirling dust was too thick. Instead of complying, her captor hauled her to her feet. She stumbled back against him, his arm locking around her neck, rifle pressed under her chin.
“Move and she dies.” Still Arabic.
“Tom,” she whimpered. “He said?—”
“I got the idea,” Tom growled.
She looked at his face—and what she saw terrified her. Tom wasn’t backing down. Not an inch. His hands were steady as he raised his rifle, aiming directly at her captor’s head. He wasn’t even looking at her.
Oh God.
This was it. She was going to die out here in the desert.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Tom nodded toward the man’s weapon. “Do you know who this is? She’s wanted by Abdul Anwar. There’s a price on her head.”
“What are you doing?” Hannah hissed. Was he completely mad? Did he want her to die?
The soldier may not have understood all the words, but he recognized the name of Hakeem’s security advisor.
His eyes widened. He hesitated.
That split second was all Tom needed.
He fired. The bullet hit him in the middle of his forehead, and the soldier’s expression shifted from suspicion to disbelief as he crumpled to his knees and fell forward.
Hannah screamed.
Tom fired again, center mass—just to be sure.
The man now lay lifeless, in the dust.
Hannah was trembling so hard her legs gave way. He surged forward, catching her.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, eyes locked on the dead man. Blood seeped out from underneath him, pooling on the ground. She couldn’t stop shaking.
His arms were firm. “Hannah, look at me.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze away. So much blood…
“Hannah!”
She blinked and looked up.
“I had to. He would’ve killed us both.”
Hot tears ran down her face as he eased her to the ground.
A sob rose in her throat as she realized—she’d never make it onto that plane now.
“Put your hands where I can see them,” demanded a low voice. d
Hannah nearly wept with relief.
Tom.
He’d found her—and just in time. She tried to turn, but the swirling dust was too thick. Instead of complying, her captor hauled her to her feet. She stumbled back against him, his arm locking around her neck, rifle pressed under her chin.
“Move and she dies.” Still Arabic.
“Tom,” she whimpered. “He said?—”
“I got the idea,” Tom growled.
She looked at his face—and what she saw terrified her. Tom wasn’t backing down. Not an inch. His hands were steady as he raised his rifle, aiming directly at her captor’s head. He wasn’t even looking at her.
Oh God.
This was it. She was going to die out here in the desert.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Tom nodded toward the man’s weapon. “Do you know who this is? She’s wanted by Abdul Anwar. There’s a price on her head.”
“What are you doing?” Hannah hissed. Was he completely mad? Did he want her to die?
The soldier may not have understood all the words, but he recognized the name of Hakeem’s security advisor.
His eyes widened. He hesitated.
That split second was all Tom needed.
He fired. The bullet hit him in the middle of his forehead, and the soldier’s expression shifted from suspicion to disbelief as he crumpled to his knees and fell forward.
Hannah screamed.
Tom fired again, center mass—just to be sure.
The man now lay lifeless, in the dust.
Hannah was trembling so hard her legs gave way. He surged forward, catching her.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, eyes locked on the dead man. Blood seeped out from underneath him, pooling on the ground. She couldn’t stop shaking.
His arms were firm. “Hannah, look at me.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze away. So much blood…
“Hannah!”
She blinked and looked up.
“I had to. He would’ve killed us both.”
Hot tears ran down her face as he eased her to the ground.
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