Page 7

CHAPTER 3
Crumbled before the embassy gate, Hannah glanced over her shoulder. The State Security force could arrive any minute—and her only safe haven in the entire country had locked her out. She was officially out of options.
“Can I help you?”
Thank God.
She sprang to her feet, drinking in the sight of a U.S. soldier approaching the gate from the inside. He wore desert camouflage and carried a serious-looking rifle slung across his chest. Muscular, alert, and armed, there was nothing soft about him, but she’d never seen anyone more reassuring.
“Please,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m an American citizen. I need help. There are dangerous people after me. If they find me, they’ll kill me.”
His gaze swept over her from head to toe. He took in the robe, the headscarf, her bare, dust-covered feet and hesitated, trying to make sense of the contradiction.
Damn, he might think she was a local woman.
Yanking the scarf down, she revealed her pale face and blonde hair. His eyes widened in surprise. They were pretty nice eyes, to be fair. Clear, sharp and a vivid shade of blue. Not unlikethe Arabic sky. Fumbling in her purse, she managed to pull out her U.S. passport and wave it at the hot guard.
“See? I’m American. Please let me in. It’s a matter of life and death.”
She glanced back down the street, bracing for the screech of tires or the glint of a patrol car.
He followed her gaze, checking the street. For now, it was quiet.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re too late. This embassy is closed due to the current unrest. All personnel were evacuated back to the States. There’s no one here.”
“What?” Her breath caught.
No! Please, no.
She pleaded with him. “But… I have to get in. I have information… critical intel about the regime. Please,” her voice cracked, “you have to let me in before they find me.”
If only she still had the damn letter.
“Calm down, ma’am,” the soldier said, not unkindly. “Who’s coming after you?” He still hadn’t moved toward the gate.
“The authorities,” she whispered. “If they catch me, I’ll be arrested. I’ve committed treason.”
He blinked. “Treason? That’s a serious crime. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she snapped. Maybe he wasn’t so hot after all. “It’s the memorandum?—”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing as they flicked back to her. She could see it in his expression. She must appear completely unhinged. A lone woman in a disguise, dusty and barefoot, rambling about treason and stolen documents. Not exactly the image of someone trustworthy.
“I’ve got orders,” he said finally. “No one gets in. I wish I could help, but... maybe try contacting the State Department in D.C. They’ll know you’re still here and send someone.”
“I don’t have time,” she hissed. He was obviously dense, as well asnothot. “They’ll be here any second?—”
As if summoned by her words, the wail of sirens rose in the distance. She tensed and gripped the bars.
“That for you?” he asked, already reading the panic on her face.
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
It was game over.
The soldier turned toward the sound and they both saw the ominous blue lights flashing at the far end of the avenue. The security operatives were close enough to see the gates. Had they spotted her? Did they know she’d come here?
Thenothot guard checked his weapon with one fluid motion and squared his stance. His legs were planted, his rifle ready. Impressive reflexes, despite the sick twist in her gut. He wasn’t going to let her in.