Derek wasn’t usedto emotions he couldn’t control. Right now, he wanted to punch something.
Did she hurt your feelings? Poor baby.
Any relief Derek had felt at reaching Cobra HQ with Jenna in one piece had vanished in the wake of her suspicions. She had all but accused him of lying to her and faking their entire escape. What the hell?
You should have explained the situation earlier. You know her history.
Yeah, okay, so her father had lied to her and manipulated her all of her life, but Derek wasn’t her old man. She ought to trust him. He glanced back to find Jenna standing where he’d left her, staring at him through wide eyes.
“You coming, or would you rather try your luck on the streets?”
She hurried into the elevator. “What do you mean they went to the hospital?”
The elevator door opened, and they walked in.
“I mean exactly what I said. They turned off the highway and drove to the hospital. I expect that’s where they thought we would go.”
“Maybe it was someone from the hospital. Maybe—”
“Do any of the staff drive around in a convoy of armored Humvees with fixed machine guns?”
“Of course, not! They had machine guns?”
Rather than getting her settled in quarters, he led her to the operations room, where McManus and Cross were analyzing the drone footage on a bank of flat-screen monitors. McManus had served as an intel specialist with the SAS—Britain’s Secret Air Service—while Cross was a former Navy SEAL coms specialist. Together, they made one hell of an intelligence team.
The two looked up, their gazes moving from Derek to Jenna, who technically wasn’t allowed to be in here.
McManus covered his surprise, got to his feet. “I’m Quinn McManus, ma’am. Glad you’re here wi’ us and safe.”
“Thank you.”
Cross stood, held out a hand. “Alex Cross. Glad to see you safe, Ms. Hamilton. You, too, Tower, for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks.” Derek set his duffel bag on the floor. “I’d like Ms. Hamilton to see the drone footage. Start with the roadblock.”
“Yes, sir.”
McManus gestured to his chair. “Sit here, lass.”
“Thank you.” Jenna set her bag down and sat, still wearing her headscarf.
McManus scrolled through the footage, pointed to the screen. “This is your Land Cruiser. This is the vehicle driven by that Hamzad character. See these? There are six vehicles clustered together, blockin’ the road.”
Jenna studied the screen. “Those are the QRFs? Who are they?”
“That means ‘quick reaction force.’ Bide just a wee, and I’ll show you.”
“‘Bide a wee’ means ‘wait a minute,’” Cross told Jenna. “I’ve told McManus that he ought to learn English, but…”
“Shut your gob, you feckin’ bawbag,” McManus shot back. “Pardon, ma’am.”
Jenna clearly had no idea what any of that meant. “That’s fine.”
McManus moved slowly through the footage. “Hamzad reaches the roadblock just after we warned Tower to start haulin’ ass backward. Hamzad speaks wi’ this fellow, who just got out of one of the vehicles, and it’s more than two minutes before he realizes you’re no longer behind him. When he sees you’re no’ comin’, he sprints back to his vehicle, as does the man he was talkin’ to. They all turn and drive south to find you.”
Derek reached over and blew up one of the images to get a clear look at the face of Hamzad’s contact. “Who is this fucker?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Cross brought up a mug shot on another screen. “That’s Alimjan Qassim, a Uyghur fighter. He spent eighteen months in Guantanamo before being released. Word is that he’s leading one of Kazi’s secret militias, doing the dirty work Kazi wants to be able to deny.”