Relentless - By Cherry Adair Page 0,58

tightened in his. “I don’t want you going off alone.”

That elicited a short bark of laughter. He’d been shot, stabbed, and almost gutted over the years as an MI5 operative, but no one had ever given a damn. “It’s not my first day at kindergarten, darling. I’m going to double back to see if we’re being followed.”

“Then we go together.” She met his gaze, his eyes shadowed by her glasses. Chewing her lower lip, Isis admitted, “Frankly, I don’t want me to be alone, either.”

He should’ve considered that, especially after what she’d been through in the past few days. He rarely worked with a partner, so being autonomous was par for the course. And the last time he’d partnered up—

Goddamn it, he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s safety. Clearly he was shit at the job. Ask Lynn Maciej and Troy Ayers. “We’ll double back to that fountain where the kids are playing. We can remain concealed by the hedges along the way.”

She smiled her thanks. They went back, then casually drifted into a rowdy group of teenagers and adults. No one looked as though they were skulking, but then, professionals wouldn’t. They, like himself, would blend undetected.

It was an exercise in futility. Too many people about, and he had no way to ID the men in the tan car. Unless they happened to be in said car. “I don’t see anything. Let’s head to Husani’s and regroup.”

HUSANI’S WIFE, RABIAH, WAS preparing dinner when they arrived. The small, crowded apartment smelled deliciously of roasting meat and spices. Isis’s mouth watered as she was urged to the table. While they ate, Thorne pretty much interrogated her friend.

Husani and Rabiah had been surprised, but instantly welcoming when they showed up unannounced. “I’m sorry, Thorne doesn’t mean—”

“Thorne does mean,” he corrected as he rested his hand on her wrist. “Someone is trying their damnedest to kill us. I want to know who, and how they know we’re even here. Are they after you or are they trying to kill me?”

That was pretty plain and out there. “I’ve been thinking about this in my copious spare time,” Isis said facetiously.

“Maybe someone thinks you know something?” Rabiah suggested, spooning another slice of fiteer onto Isis’s plate.

The light, flaky pastry stuffed with lamb and white cheese was mouthwateringly delicious, and even though Isis was full, she took another delectable, gooey bite. “Then they should politely stop me and ask a freaking question.”

“You were followed from the minister’s house, aiwa?” Husani gave her a worried look. “These men must’ve followed you from there.” Thorne cocked his head in response. “Or from the market.”

Thorne looked grim, his mouth tight. “Either. Both. I’m here to assist Isis in finding this tomb her father claims to have found and lost. But it’s very possible someone from my past has caught up with me. I’m a British intelligence officer on inactive status. This man could be—probably is—behind these attempts. Both MI5 and the Mossad—”

“You are working with al-Mosad lil-Istikhbarat wal-Mahamm al-Khassah?” Husani asked, clearly impressed.

“Yes. Israel’s Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations is vested in helping me find a man or syndicate who has been stealing and selling the Middle East’s most priceless antiquities on the black market for years.”

“And you believe that this man has heard of the professor’s claim of finding Queen Cleopatra’s tomb, and wants it at all costs?”

“That’s where I’m heading. But as yet there’s nothing concrete to tie Professor Magee to Boris Yermalof.”

“Other than a frigging queen’s ransom in priceless artifacts, you mean?” Isis said flatly, leaning forward, her arms on the table.

“Yeah, I must admit, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“It would’ve been nice of you to share your thoughts along the way,” she told him.

“My contacts have drawn off the men chasing us this evening. I also have two men posted at the hospital in case your father’s attackers decide to go back. He’s secured, and no one followed us here. But Isis must be returned home, where she can be kept safe while I resolve this.”

“I concur.” Husani cradled his coffee cup, a deep frown creasing his brow.

“May I be allowed to insert a word in edgewise?” Isis straightened from the table. “My father was attacked only a few hours ago in Seattle. I won’t be much safer there than I am here.”

“There you’ll be under the protection of Zakary Stark and a full security team.”

Isis slumped back in her chair. “Excellent point.”

“What do you need from us?” Rabiah asked

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