Page 101 of Secrets Beneath the Waves

Later that evening

The marina was shroudedin hues of orange and pink. The sunset painted the water in brilliant, shifting colors. Inside his sedan, Iranian operative Abdullah Huda sat motionless. His hands gripped the steering wheel as if it might anchor him against the tide of his growing anxiety.

His neck hurt from the tension. Hours of staring off into the vast expanse of the Caribbean Sea had taken its toll. He had parked in the farthest corner of the lot, his view unobstructed but his position discreet.

The target, the woman, had arrived hours ago, accompanied by another man. Since then, there’d been no sign of her or the two men he sent out earlier to eliminate her.

His phone sat on the passenger seat, its dark screen reflecting his mood. He resisted the urge to glance at it again, knowing no updates would magically appear. The men he trusted to complete the mission were overdue, and the silence stretched his nerves taut.

He had seen missions fall apart before, but this felt different, worse.

In his country, failure wasn’t an option, and the possibility of it threatened to crush him like a meteor falling from the sky. Finally, he gave up, grabbed the phone, and dialed. The line buzzed twice before a familiar voice answered in Farsi.

“It’s me,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the storm that brewed inside him. “The men haven’t returned. The target returned alive. Something’s wrong. I think . . . I think they might have failed.”

The voice on the other end let out a tirade of expletives. Huda held the phone from his ear and prepared himself for the rapid questions he knew were coming. He answered each one with curt responses. His gaze stayed locked on the marina’s shadowy docks as the sun had finally set, and he had lost all hope that the men would return.

When the call ended, he set the phone down and exhaled sharply. He was told in no uncertain terms to find the girl and kill her. If he failed, his entire family would pay the price. Sweat dripped from his brow as he began to formulate a plan to find her. Which wouldn’t be easy.

They’d been looking for her for weeks. He was beginning to believe she had left the island until they got the tip that she was scuba diving. When would they ever get a better opportunity than today?

In retrospect, he should’ve gone after the girl himself rather than leave it to the other imbeciles. Regardless, what’s done is done.

In a way, this was better. He liked to work alone, and now he could take matters into his own hands.

The moment of calm was short-lived.

A flicker of movement drew his attention to the passenger side window. He turned his head sharply. His heart jolted as adrenaline surged. The silhouette of a figure loomed just beyond the glass.

Before he could react, a blinding flash of light filled his vision. His world exploded into darkness. A sharp, searing pain was the last sensation he registered before everything went dark.

Later that night

Ellie satin the dim light of her rented villa. Her fingers hovered over the phone. The faint sound of waves crashed against the shore and drifted through the cracked window and did little to calm her nerves.

The events of the day replayed in her mind like a broken record: killing the two men, the close call with the sharks, the third man she shot through the car window. Luke’s piercing questions.

Finally, she dialed. Her father, Alex, picked up after the second ring. “Hi, honey. How’s your tan coming along?”

She wasn’t in the mood for frivolous banter, but knew she had to endure it before she could get down to the reason she called.

“I already had a tan before I came down here,” she stated. “When was the last time you had a tan line, Dad. The last time I saw you with your shirt off, I had to put on my sunglasses.”

“Hi, Ellie,” Mom said, clearly excited to hear from her. She’d see how long that lasted. “He hasn’t been outside since we bought that patio furniture ten years ago.”

“The sun gives me wrinkles,” he said.

“Don’t let him fool you,” she said. “He’s got more wrinkles than Hercules.”

Hercules was their pet bulldog.

Her dad deftly changed the subject. “It’s late, Ellie. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Define okay.” Ellie tried to keep her tone light, but the burden of the day hung in her voice. Her parents were perceptive and would notice it immediately. “I’ve had better days.”

His voice turned teasing. “What happened? Did Luke forget to kiss you goodnight? Or maybe he did. And it wasn’t very good.”

Ellie groaned. “Not funny, Dad.”