Page 5 of Dalla’s Royal Guards (Second Chance #3)

Two

Four hours later, the trawler slowed to a crawl off the coastline of Kashir. Musad signaled Donovan to idle the trawler as a smaller fishing boat drew alongside.

He dropped several large orange fenders over the side to protect the vessels as they came together. Manny, Nanna’s nephew, stepped around the center console, picked up the bow rope, and tossed it to him. Musad caught the rope and deftly tied it with a slip knot to the cleat on the trawler.

“You look like a genuine angler,” Manny greeted with an affable grin, his face deeply tanned from his time on the water.

Musad grinned back at the eighteen-year-old. Even though fewer than ten years separated them, Musad felt much older. Manny’s eyes lacked the cynicism that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

“Hey, Manny,” Nasser greeted in an amiable tone.

“Hey, Nasser.”

Musad chuckled at Manny’s lack of etiquette. The younger man was oblivious that he was in the presence of royalty. Manny grabbed the duffle bag Nasser held over the side. The younger man grunted under the weight.

“Damn, what are you guys carrying… gold?” Manny asked.

“Weapons,” Nasser replied cheerfully.

Manny whistled. “I can barely handle that stuff in video games—it looks painful.” He gave a theatrical wince.

“It is,” Musad said.

Manny stared at him with his mouth open before he snapped it shut when Donovan appeared along with five other men. Manny looked at the men, their gear, then down at his boat. He shook his head.

“I don’t think I can carry all of you in one trip,” Manny commented.

“You will only be taking Nasser, myself, and one more,” Musad replied.

“Oh, in that case, we’re good,” Manny replied with a laugh.

Musad nodded and tossed his bag to Manny. The younger man caught it with an ease that belied his earlier comment about the weight of their bags and placed it in the bottom of the boat.

Nasser climbed over the side and jumped into Manny’s fishing boat. Colin Matez, the oldest of the special force group, followed. Musad turned and spoke quietly to Donovan, who nodded before he climbed over and hopped down.

“We’ll be ready,” Donovan promised, untying the bow rope.

Musad held onto the grab rail around the windshield of the center console as Manny skillfully pushed the throttle forward and they sped away from the trawler. The wind whipped his thick black hair from his face.

A thin film of salt spray coated his skin. He took a deep breath of the fresh air. He loved the water. Even the knowledge that this might be his last day on this planet didn’t detract from his momentary enjoyment. The water was a part of his blood, just as the danger they were going into was.

He scanned the shoreline as they followed the unmarked channel toward a narrow cut. Manny’s boat was a flat-bottom skiff and could handle the shallow water. Manny slowed the skiff until it was idling.

“Don’t want to make a wake through here. It will draw attention,” Manny cautioned.

“Are the vehicles ready?” Nasser asked.

“Yes. The money you sent made several of my cousins very happy. They have been wanting new cars,” Manny chuckled.

Musad frowned. “If something happens, they will be traced back to you,” he said.

Manny shook his head. “Not for these. Did I mention that my cousins are in the… less than savory used car market? They aren’t happy with the recent change in government.

They have graciously volunteered to provide more support if needed.

They don’t have the same aversion to blood and violence that I do. ”

“We don’t want your family involved any more than they have been,” Nasser asserted.

Manny shrugged. “We were all-in the moment Hannibal Crosse and General Victor Hellman targeted Nanna. Our family is very sensitive about things like that.”

“So are we,” Musad murmured.

Manny navigated the skiff through a narrow gap and tilted the motor until it was barely in the water. Musad could see the ripple of sand mere inches under the hull. Fifteen feet in, the water deepened, and Manny lowered the motor.

“We keep this dredged… for business,” Manny said with a flashing grin.

Colin released a snort of amusement. It was obvious that Manny was more than an angler. The cut appeared to be unnavigable to all but those who knew better. They traveled nearly half-a-mile inland before Musad spotted a hidden dock. It had been skillfully built under a hammock of palm trees.

“It’s getting harder to keep things hidden with all the satellite images, so we have to be creative,” Manny said, pulling the throttle back and coasting toward the dock.

Musad, Colin, and Nasser watched as two men rose from where they were sitting on a makeshift wooden bench under the shade of the trees.

One man called out a cheerful greeting. Musad stepped forward and tossed him the bow rope as the boat gently bounced against the side of a white bumper tied to the dock.

“This is Henri and that is Enrique. They are Nanna’s nephews on her brother Audre’s side. Don’t ask them about their names. Our uncle had a strange sense of humor,” Manny introduced.

“We have the cars,” Enrique said as a greeting. “Our cousin Colette and a few of her friends are dropping the others off at the location you requested.”

Manny scowled. “You trusted Colette?”

Musad paused in the process of handing one of their bags to Colin and looked back and forth between Henri and Manny. Henri looked amused. Manny… horrified.

“What is wrong with Colette?” he asked.

Manny shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered.

Henri laughed. “Colette likes to drive fast, and so do her friends, but she promised not to draw attention. She knows what rides on this. The vehicles will be there, and no one will be any the wiser.”

“I’ll head back out and meet up with them. We’ll keep you posted on the troop movements,” Manny said.

“Sounds good. Keep your head down,” Henri called.

“Always,” Manny retorted with a laugh.

The group of men watched in silence as Manny untied the bow rope and skillfully navigated the skiff back the way they had come. Enrique sighed and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his loose-fitting white cotton trousers. Musad raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“I don’t know what Manny has told you on the way here, but getting out of the country might be a bit more challenging. The situation has changed,” Enrique warned.

“What do you mean?” Nasser asked.

“The mercenary group that Hellman hired has closed off all major exits to the city. I told Manny to bring you here because the main bridge leading into the city has been shut down. They’ve got troops patrolling the inlet. They are also doing a sweep of the city,” Enrique explained.

“We need to contact Donovan and warn him,” Musad said.

Nasser nodded. “Colin, contact Donovan. Tell him to move to Plan B.”

“Yes, sire,” Colin said.

Colin grabbed the bag with the satellite phone, climbed the short wooden steps up the bank, and connected with Donovan. Plan B was trickier. Instead of eight men on the mission, it would be the three of them—plus Manny’s cousins.

“Are you sure Nanna and Cianna are safe?” Nasser asked Henri as they climbed the steps.

Henri nodded. “For now. I’m not sure how much longer. Hellman is determined to find them.”

Musad listened as Henri explained that Nanna had escaped to the downtown market, losing their tail among the hundreds of colorful carts and storefronts. They were hiding in an apartment above a spice dealer that belonged to a longtime friend of the family.

Coarse sand crunched under his feet as they traversed through a maze of abandoned cars.

Some had been used for parts, while others had been crushed and piled like blocks on top of each other.

Musad didn’t miss the strategic placement of the discarded vehicles, nor the narrow openings woven between them to give either an escape route or strategic positions of cover if needed.

He should have done a deeper background check into the brothers.

“Which of you were in the military?” he inquired.

Enrique grinned. “Both of us. I was in Kashir’s Special Forces. Henri served a few years in the French Foreign Legion.”

Musad nodded, his gaze moving to Henri. He noticed that he walked with a slight limp. The man must have sensed his scrutiny because he glanced over his shoulder. There was a hard glint in Henri’s eyes that most would miss under his cheerful demeanor.

He bowed his head in understanding. Some things were best left unspoken. They crossed to a small, white concrete building with narrow windows covered with rebar. The interior was refreshingly cool and surprisingly sparse and neat.

“This is for show,” Enrique murmured.

Enrique crossed the narrow room to a bookcase and reached under it with the toe of his boot. A faint click preceded the smooth swing of the bookcase. An opening appeared, cut through the concrete foundation. Through the opening, Musad could see a narrow staircase leading downward.

“This way,” Henri instructed before descending the narrow, wooden steps.

Nasser and Colin each shouldered a heavy bag and followed. Musad pulled the strap of his bag over his head and positioned it along his back before he descended the stairs. Enrique followed behind them, closing the false door.

They entered a long underground corridor that ran twenty-five feet before it opened into a wider room. There were two other corridors leading in different directions from this central room. Along the walls were an array of maps of the area.

“Impressive,” he murmured.

Enrique grinned. “Welcome. You should feel honored. You are the first we have brought here.”

“We don’t do much socializing,” Henri added.

“What is this place?” Nasser asked, walking around the room.

“A leftover from the old days. Our great-great-grandfather enjoyed a side business of robbing the rich traveling to Egypt during the day. He would bring his spoils here. It was a very lucrative living.”

“Enrique and I used to play down here all the time when our grandfather ran the business. Our dad decided he wanted a change and began looking at auto restoration,” Henri elaborated.

“It looks like you have expanded the business,” Nasser said with a chuckle.

“Only for a good cause,” Henri replied with a slight edge in his voice.

“We should go over the routes again,” Musad said.

He placed his bag on the floor next to Colin and Nasser’s and walked over to the center table. A large digital map of the city glowed on the table. Tiny red and blue pins dotted the surface.

“The red are Hellman’s mercs. Blue shows the cleared areas,” Enrique explained.

“How current and accurate is this?” Nasser asked, leaning over the map.

“Very. Collette’s crew have been placing GPS trackers on the mercs’ vehicles,” Henri added.

Nasser frowned. “That is extremely dangerous.”

Henri nodded. “Collette and her friends are very good at what they do. They look like kids.”

“Clean cut kids, which makes them even more effective,” Enrique added.

“You have to remember, we are fighting for our country and to protect Nanna and Cianna,” Henri said in a low, terse voice. “Crosse and Hellman have a lot to answer for. Their greed for power has cost the lives of many good people already. By the power of Dalla, we’ll free Kashir once again.”

The mention of Dalla caused Musad to look at his brother.

Nasser gave him a half-smile. It was impossible to ignore the cynicism in both of them.

While they had both grown up with the wild tales of a mythical warrior woman appearing out of the desert to save two kingdoms, it still amazed them how many people looked to her for inspiration—nearly a thousand years later.

He absently touched the seax his father had given him, eyes tracking the red lights inching across the map.

Any mission was inherently dangerous. This one would be more so because not only was the future of a country at stake, but so was the life of a precious little girl caught up in a high-stakes game of greed and power.

As the red pins began to converge on the city market, he thought with dread, We will need Dalla herself to come to our aid if we are to get out of here safely.