Ransom Read online

  When she reached the perimeter fence line of the property, she removed her phone and snapped a few shots. She explored the path bordering the property and snapped more photos. She knew the fencing was electrified, but there had to be somewhere she might be able to escape.

  She estimated she’d walked about a half mile around the vineyard when she heard Mustafa calling to her. She stashed the cell in her pocket just as he emerged from the fog.

  “Habibi.” He opened his arms to her, and she snuggled close to his warmth. He kissed her temple. “You’re all wet, my love, not the best day to see my vineyard.”

  “I needed some exercise and fresh air. I find the fog invigorating. How are things at the job site?”

  “Excellent. I’d say two days at best from putting our plans into motion. The North Koreans are tireless workers.”

  “You probably shouldn’t have said North Koreans you know?” She placed her finger in the dimple on his chin.

  He grinned, stealing another peck on her lips. “Did I say North Koreans? Well, I’m sure you suspected they were involved, as are the Iranians. It doesn’t matter. You’re my prisoner.” It was a casual throwaway line.

  She frowned pulling out of his embrace. “I do not care to be a prisoner, Mustafa. You should know the last time I was held prisoner the villains paid dearly.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Right now all I want is to get out of this cold and relax with you, my queen.”

  Zara knew sexually cohabitating with her jailer was part of the deal. The dangerous part was her enjoyment of their union. She didn’t hate him as she should but was instead mightily attracted to him. It didn’t matter; she knew she’d pull the trigger when the time came. It was what she’d been trained to do, what she was programmed to do. She’d killed countless times, but she knew already this was going to be the most difficult kill of her life.

  She’d checked her phone several times to see if Aryeh had answered her text, but he hadn’t. It was annoying and increased her sense of isolation. Now she’d have to wait until Mustafa fell asleep. It seemed reasonable to assume a meal with plenty of wine, and a heated sexual encounter would do the trick.

  In all probability, the team was now in the Beqaa Valley setting up a mobile base from which to launch their attack on the missiles and shut down the nuclear EMP threat. She desperately wanted to know what Aryeh’s thoughts were and what he and Cyrus had determined as their course of action? Time was running out, and her role in this was crucial, she needed to be in sync with the team. In all likelihood, she’d need the team to free her from the vineyard. She’d begun to take Mustafa’s jest as a real possibility. The truth was inescapable. She was Mustafa’s prisoner.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beqaa Valley, Lebanon

  Baalbek Farm

  The team members stood with baited breath as Ash slid back the heavy doors to the barn, revealing a cornucopia of weapons, ammunition, delivery systems, and vehicles. There was a staging station well supplied with chemicals and plastics, everything a bomb maker could wish for was at their fingertips.

  Only Elon’s presence was missing. He was busy bringing everything up to speed in the van that would serve as their mobile tech center during the attack. It was imperative the equipment functioned properly. He needed to have eyes on during the assault, and he needed Tel Aviv to be able to screen the action too. Everything would be live and routed through the satellite Mossad had ordered into position.

  Cyrus walked around grinning. What Ash had procured was impressive. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d bragged he had enough high-tech and cutting-edge equipment for a small army. But when he caught sight of four Kawasaki Ninja H2R motorcycles, he let out a low whistle. “How the hell did you get your hands on four of these?” The Ninja was the fastest production motorcycle in the world with recorded speeds exceeding two-hundred-forty-nine miles per hour.

  Ash folded his arms over his chest. “I had my arms dealer fly them in from Japan. I had them modified though. Sound suppressors, which does dampen the performance a little, and I had enlarged storage compartments installed for ammo. Not too shabby, huh?”

  “It’s going to break my heart to leave these babies when we make our escape.”

  “Don’t sweat it, boss. You want one of these?” He laughed, turning on a thick Yiddish accent. “I can get it for you wholesale.”

  “I’ll bet you can. May have to take you up on your offer, although Layla will probably cut my balls off if I do.”

  “Ah, the joys of marriage. I suggest you keep your balls and get a Vespa motor scooter.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m henpecked?” He laughed. “Because if you are, I’ll be the first to admit it. It seems I’ll go to no end to please my muse. But if you’re challenging me on motorcycles, how about we have ourselves a race, wise guy?”

  “Anytime, boss.”

  His cell vibrated in his pocket. The text was from Aryeh. The prisoner exchange set for tonight at midnight. I need to talk to you ASAP when Elon has communications secured.

  Cyrus texted back Roger that and put his cell away. “Listen up everyone, I just heard from Aryeh. The prisoner exchange is tonight. We need to be ready to roll on a moment’s notice.”

  “No problem boss,” Cyrus noted the man who rarely smiled, Daniel, was grinning at him. Well, I’ll be damned, he’s coming around.

  Nira picked up an assault rifle, her muscles tautly defined when she assumed firing stance and held the scope to her eye. “You did good Ash. This AK-12 is as sweet as a rifle gets.”

  “So what do you like best about it? Is it the recoil control or the firepower?”

  It was a man’s kind of gun, but Nira was no ordinary woman. She ignored Ash’s sexual innuendo and adjusted the stock to fit her diminutive shape and again assumed shooter’s stance. “This baby is mine.”

  “Yeah, it’s your color for sure.” Ash teased. “Matches your eyes. Are you sure it’s not too heavy? I have girlier guns for you. Couldn’t get my hands on a purple Tinkerbell, but I did find a grey.22LR.”

  She turned and aimed the rifle at his chest. “Where’d you say the safety is, Ash? I might need to release it and have me some target practice.”

  Ash put his hands up in surrender and grinned. “Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, sweetheart.”

  She let the muzzle drop down to aim at his genitals. “I don’t think you’d miss these jewels if I removed them, do you? They’re not worth much.”

  “I’d miss them for sure, but there’s a whole lot of ladies out there who’d be missing them even more.”

  She lowered the rifle with a humph. “I’d be doing them a favor.”

  “Yeah, but what if I’m the future father of your children.” He raised his brow.

  “Do you think I’d choose brawn over brains for my mate? Think again.”

  Daniel snorted. “Enough! I wish you two would get it over with and fuck. All the back-and-forth is giving me a headache.”

  Both Nira and Ash glared at him.

  Cyrus laughed. “Okay, lovebirds and not so loving birds, let’s get to work.”

  The sun was setting by the time they’d all chosen their weapons of choice and body armor. Nira and Ash would be riding on the back of motorcycles driven by Ben and Daniel. They’d be free from encumbrance to fire weapons at will. Aryeh and Cyrus were riding their motorcycles solo. Yitzak would drive the armored van loaded with explosives and additional weapons. From inside the van, Elon’s job was monitoring satellite feed and coordinating Tel Aviv’s instructions to the team. They’d all be wearing helmet cameras that would televise their movements to Tel Aviv and Elon live.

  The plan was to infiltrate the compound and place enough explosives to blow the entire place to kingdom come. It sounded simple, but everyone knew the place would be heavily fortified and guarded. Heavily outnumbered this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk by any means. The decision to kill everyone within the compound walls had come from the Prime Minister himself. There were to be
no surviving witnesses. The only thing to remain standing would be a clear message to Israel’s enemies. Israel would not stand for Hezbollah’s nuclearization. Israel would do whatever it took to ensure the safety of its citizens.

  Determined and ready, the team headed back to the main house to prepare some dinner and to take turns grabbing an hour or two of sleep before the mission was given the go ahead.

  Cyrus left the chattering bunch in the kitchen and hurried to the living room, where Elon was adjusting and testing the last equipment to be loaded into the van.

  “Hey, Elon, everything good to go?”

  “Purring like a Ferrari. The last thing to load is the computer system. ”

  “Good. Can you put me through to Aryeh? I need to talk to him before the prisoner swap.”

  “You got it, boss.” The tech guru worked his magic and seconds later Aryeh’s face popped up on the screen. Elon waved as he headed to the kitchen.

  “Hey, man, how goes it?” Cyrus asked.

  There was a wariness in Aryeh’s eyes. Cyrus knew from experience it was the normal look of a man about to head into the eye of the storm.

  “I’m going to cut to the chase,” Aryeh said. “I just picked up a text from Zara. For some reason, the damn phone wasn’t working, but now it is. Mustafa has her at his family vineyard slash compound. She only had a minute to text, but she sent me these blueprints which I’ve forwarded to Tel Aviv. It’s for the conversion of a cannabis greenhouse into a rocket building facility. I’ve checked with headquarters, and our satellites have detected unusual activity there.” He held up a map pointing to a circled area, which looked to be in the middle of nowhere. “Tel Aviv has uploaded everything to Elon’s computers. Everyone agrees this is our target.”

  “I’ll have Elon pinpoint the coordinates, and he and I will prepare the attack plan. We’ll be ready to go here,” Cyrus said, “whenever Tel Aviv gives us the go.”

  “Our timetable is as follows. I’m on my way to you as soon as we hang-up. Once we know Gideon is safe our operation begins. There’s just one problem.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Zara. She’s going to be vulnerable. She’s unarmed, and as far as I’m concerned a prisoner. I need to get her out of there.”

  “I have a killer Kawasaki and plenty of ammo and guns waiting for you. I’m sure the team will want to help. What’s your plan?”

  “Perfect. But I’m going on this one alone. I’ll rescue the princess from the castle, and we’ll join you before you’re ready to lead our army in its attack.”

  “You sure you won’t need help saving our damsel in distress?”

  “Nix that. Zara also sent me photos of the compound and the interiors. She’s like a Ninja. I won’t be fighting alone. She and I will rendezvous with you. We’ll need as many feet on the ground as we can muster. I expect the missile facility to be crawling with soldiers. No big deal, we’re always outnumbered.”

  “Okay, as soon as you and Zara get back here we’ll launch. My guestimate is at two a.m. Whatever they have on the ground there, I’m confident they’re no match for the team.”

  Aryeh nodded. “One thing is for sure, Hezbollah should be well distracted by their celebrating the release of seventeen of their deadliest from jail. Once we’ve taken out the threat, the Stealth Hawk and the RQ-170 helicopters will swoop in and pick us up. I figure we’re on our way home before the first light of dawn.”

  “Let’s put this baby to sleep for good,” Cyrus said.

  “Amen.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Baalbek Vineyard

  Beqaa Valley, Lebanon

  Mustafa represented the antithesis of everything she believed in, but Zara couldn’t stop the way she felt about him. She’d spent most of her life since her brother’s death not believing in anything or anyone. Her only reason for living was to stop the next killer before someone else had to suffer the loss of a loved one like she had. Now she found herself in an explicable position. She felt alive in the arms of a man who meant to kill, and for some reason, she believed she could change him.

  He kissed her, and all reason disappeared. She, a trained operative, had done this before. Entrapping a male adversary to reveal secrets were the tools of her trade. But unlike every time before, the thought of killing Mustafa made her sick to her stomach. He wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t a man cheating on a wife he supposedly loved. He wasn’t a man in heat who wanted to satisfy an impulse. She believed him when he said he loved her. Why did she believe him? In her mind, he’d risked everything for her, even the condemnation of his family. He’d saved her life and went up against Nasrallah when the easiest thing would have been to burn her. He was willing to give up everything for her, his family, Lebanon, and his powerful position within Hezbollah. She’d leave this second with him if he’d just stop the missile launch.

  Was it possible love could obliterate hatred? If a terrorist could love wouldn’t the world be a better place? In Judaism she knew the concept of tikkun olam meant repairing the world in action. The idea of changing the course of a life, his life, had taken hold of her and rekindled her belief. She knew deep in her heart she could change him if they only had the time. But time was running out.

  It was no wonder she couldn’t keep the mission in mind. He made love to her, and every part of her answered. She fought to separate her emotions and just go through the motions of sex. Just when she thought she was back on track, back to being a professional in control of the situation, he said something which broke through her psychological barriers.

  “We are probably totally unsuitable for each other, but I don’t want to live my life without you. Together habibi we can change the course of our lives?” He was inside of her. Making love to her. Was he reading her mind?

  His hands caressed her face as he stared into her eyes. “You are mine, Zara, Allah’s gift. You hold my heart in your hands.”

  “Mon amour,” her nails dug into his back, her back arching. She trembled like an exposed electrical wire, wildly she sizzled beneath him catapulting him into release.

  Their hearts clamored thunderously against each other, their gasping breaths filling the silence. Mustafa held tight to her as they lay drenched in each other as if releasing her would bring on his demise. “Zara, Zara,” he moaned as if the repetition of her name was a magical incantation. “What have you done to me? You’re all I think about.”

  And then to prove his words true, he delved in kissing her as if this were their last moment on Earth and their lovemaking divine.

  Breathlessly she pulled away. “I’m exhausted, mon chéri, you’ve worn me out. I need to sleep. Today is like the day without end.”

  “Habibi, sleep in my arms. It is my dearest wish.”

  She rolled over, and he wrapped himself around her. She took deep breaths, fighting an almost irresistible urge to sleep. She needed to text Aryeh. She needed to know what their plan was.

  The last thing she remembered was listening to his breathing.

  A series of pings woke them both. He picked up his cell and read the message. He sat up squinting, fine lines wrinkling his eyes.

  She yawned rising on her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go. Nasrallah has decided to make an unplanned appearance.”

  “Is there anything wrong? What time is it?”

  “Nothing is wrong. I’m sure Nasrallah only wants to see the progress we’ve made. It’s only ten p.m. We’ve only slept a short time. You stay here, habibi, go back to sleep. I shouldn’t be long.”

  “I am still sleepy,” Damn, I’ve overslept. All she could think about was checking her cell. By now Aryeh had to have texted her.

  He leaned over kissing her. “Of course, you are my love.” His eyes twinkled with satisfaction. “What you do to me fills me with power and endless desire. I am a man who knows no limits when it comes to loving you.”

  She placed her hands on the scruff of beard, on his cheeks. “You are a formidable
lover, mon chéri. Go and come back to me.”

  He bent and kissed her nipple. “I can’t bear to leave you, but I must.”

  She pulled the sheet up covering herself. “Go before I pull you back into this bed.”

  He dressed and stopped, turning at the door. “Zara, I’m taking some men with me for protection, so there will be only a minimal crew on duty. Only the guard gate and the perimeter of the house will be manned. Please don’t leave the house. You’re safe here.”

  She waved dismissively. “Mustafa, the only place I’m going is back to sleep.”

  He smiled. “I’ll be back to join you soon, habibi.”

  Zara waited and listened for the sound of the Mercedes’ engine turning over. Once she heard the engine recede in the distance, she got out of bed and grabbed her cell phone. She sighed a breath of relief seeing Aryeh’s text. The prisoner exchange of his nephew and the Israeli held Hezbollah prisoners would take place at midnight.

  Located the missile facility. Tonight it will be eliminated. Coming to get you now. Get out of there. We need you. You’ve accomplished task and delivered. Mustafa no longer important. I’ll text you when arrived.

  The text had come in fifteen minutes ago. Aryeh was right. There was nothing she could do to save Mustafa and even if she could would she be able to do it? He was the enemy. All those feelings she’d been fancying had twisted her reason. We have no future. What they’d shared was already in the past, a sweet memory to be certain, but nothing they shared would withstand the harsh light of day. This is where their paths diverged.

  She texted Aryeh.

  Meet me quarter-of-a-mile east of guardhouse. A narrow road borders property. Old oak tree where I can jump the fence. Stay away from guardhouse. Mustafa gone to cannabis farm to meet Nasrallah. Bon chance.

  The house was quiet and seemingly deserted. When she and Mustafa had returned from their walk, they’d eaten their meal alone in the dining room. Mustafa had ordered everyone to their quarters. He wanted nothing to interrupt his time with her.