Page 7 of Deadly Betrayal

Kaden’s shoulders tensed and his fingerstightened around the cell phone. He didn’t recognize the name. “Goon,” he prompted, not giving anything away.

“I… my sister, Azita. Doctor Azita. Do youremember her?”

Azita.Now that name hedidrecognize. A day didn’t go by without him thinking of her. Whenhe’d decided to follow Nic to Montréal, Kaden’s then-girlfriendBeth had broken up with him. In truth, the breakup had been arelief, because every morning, he’d woken feeling guilty that Azitahad visited him in his dreams. Dreams so intense and erotic, he’dfelt like a cheater.

“How is she?” Kaden asked, continuing inEnglish. When he’d seen Azita at the clinic, he’d asked her abouther near-perfect fluency and she’d explained that her father hadinsisted his children learn English from an early age. Her brothereven worked as a translator and interpreter.

“She needs your help.”

“With what?” Although his pulse had alreadyshot up at the mere idea that she might be in danger, Kaden pushedhimself to keep a clear head. Then he almost laughed. Azita livedin a war-ravaged country. And as an educated woman, a doctor, noless, she exposed herself to additional danger every single day.When he’d gone to the clinic to thank her for saving his life, he’dwanted to grab her and drag her back to America with him. He’dwanted to get her out of Afghanistan so he could protect her. ButAzita was a married woman, and he’d had no right. Still had noright to have anything to do with her, especially not in a placewhere a sideways glance could be taken as an offense serious enoughfor stoning. Only a fool would put a woman at such risk. And Kadenwas no fool.

“Her brother-in-law, Agha Khalid, hasarranged a marriage between his niece and Khan Tariq.”

“The warlord?”

“The very same.”

Khan Tariq was well-known among theInternational Security Assistance Force (ISAF) as a bloodthirstyleader responsible for numerous coalition deaths. The man had atalent for carefully selecting and backing up-and-coming politicos,and if rumors were correct, he already had men in several topoffices in Kabul’s current government. He was also a staunchsupporter of the strictest interpretations of Sharia law. Azita’sniece was in for a rough time. “What is it you think I can do?”

“Azita needs you to come here and stop thewedding.”

Kaden barked out a laugh that caught Nic’sand Jake’s attention. Both men’s gazes sharpened as they tuned intothe conversation. “As much as I’d like to stop that bastard fromgetting his hands on any woman, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I have seen the Americans in action enoughto know you could easily extract the girl,” Shahram insisted.

“Girl?”

“Laila is eleven.”

Damn. The thought nauseated him. Childmarriages were a huge problem in Afghanistan. Still… “I’m afraid Ican’t help you.”

“Why not? Gather your unit and retrieveLaila. It will not be more than a couple hours work for you, and itwould mean the world to Azita.”

“If this were two years ago, sure. But I’mnot in the military anymore.”

“That is unfortunate. I fear that Azita willgo after Khan Tariq herself if I cannot find someone to help.”

Ice slid glacier-slow down his back, curdlingthe beer in his stomach. “That would be suicide. You can’t let herdo that, man.”

“You do not know her very well, sir. WhenAzita’s mind is made up, there is no changing it.”

“What about her husband? Can’t he help? Or atleast keep her from getting herself killed?”

“Agha Faroukh died last year.”

Kaden groaned. According to Afghan law, thatwould make Khalid, Azita’s brother-in-law, her guardian.“Shit.”

“Exactly,” Shahram said. “Now do youunderstand? There is no one else who can help. If I go to AghaKhalid with this… well, I do not know what he will do to Azita. Sheis not exactly a beloved member of the family.”

“Is she in danger right now?”

“Not yet. But the wedding is to take placeone week from Saturday at Khan Tariq’s camp just outside Fayzabad,and Azita will not wait more than a couple days before she takesmatters into her own hands. Mr. Christiansen, you must help us. Iwill do whatever Azita asks of me. I owe it to her. But we are notequipped to deal with warlords, men who would spill our blood justto exercise their will. If you do not come to Afghanistan andassist us in this matter, we have no chance of success. Within tendays, Azita and I will be dead.”

An image of Azita’s body, pale and lifeless,riddled with bullets, filled Kaden’s mind and bile rose in histhroat. She had saved his life at great risk to her own, and hereshe was again, repeating history for someone else. But this time,he’d be with her. “Give me two days. I’ll be there.” Somehow, he’dfind a way.

Kaden took the man’s contact information andpromised to call as soon as he arrived in Kabul. When he hung up,Jake and Nic were both sitting back, watching him, identicalexpressions on their faces. Kaden tossed his cell on the desk andraked a hand through his hair. “I’m going to need some time off,Nic.”

“So I heard. Care to share what’s goingon?”