Some stinking mercenary had shot down Dag Hammarskjöld’s plane in 1961, murdering him and his entourage, and he’d been the UN secretary-general.
Do you feel better now?
As they neared the airport, Connor was in almost constant contact with the rest of the Cobra team. Shanti saw some of the other Cobra operatives hurry out onto the tarmac near the helicopter’s landing pad in full military gear, guns in their hands. As the chopper landed, they dropped to their knees, rifles raised and facing outward, forming a protective perimeter.
The moment the helicopter touched down, Connor unbuckled his safety harness. “We’ll go first and then help you out. We’ve got three vehicles. We’ll get you into one of them, and then we’ll take off for the hotel.”
Shanti nodded, her pulse picking up again.
He turned to Pauline. “Ms. Montreux, do you have an escort?”
Shanti felt a rush of warmth for him. His job was to keep her safe, but he wasn’t going to drive off and leave Pauline. What if those men had been targeting her?
“I drove here with two security guards. I’ll be fine.”
Connor gave her a nod. “We’ll be in touch about that list.”
Shanti took Pauline’s hand. “Thank you, Pauline. I’m so sorry this happened. I appreciate everything you shared with me today. I hope to see you again soon.”
Pauline smiled. “It’s not your fault. Tomorrow will be better.”
The door opened. Connor, Dylan, and Malik piled out, turning back to help Shanti. They hurried her to the Land Rover, which was now sandwiched between two identical vehicles.
Connor opened the rear passenger door, helped her climb in. He sat to her left, while Dylan sat on her right, Malik riding shotgun. The men who’d formed the perimeter stood and hurried into the two other vehicles.
“Let’s go!” Connor called to the driver.
The ride to the hotel lasted no more than five minutes.
“How are you doing?” Connor asked.
She tried to look as calm as everyone else. “You could have all been killed.”
“Risk is part of the job.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “We’ll do our best to find out who is behind this.”
Connor was studyinga detailed map of the camps when Segal entered their make-shift ops room.
“I just heard from Nayapara security. Witnesses saw the two men jump into the river. They’re in the wind.”
Connor pointed to the map. “Nayapara is the camp closest to the Myanmar border and farthest away from backup at our hotel. If they wanted to hit us and disappear, they couldn’t have picked a better spot.”
Damn it!
“I wouldn’t give them too much credit,” Segal said. “Any soldier knows it’s all but impossible to hit a helicopter with an ordinary RPG unless the bird is hovering, landing, or taking off.”
He had a point.
Shields walked in.
Connor had sent her to check on Shanti, figuring that she, as another woman and an analyst with HUMINT training, would best be able to support her. “How is she?”
“She’s gone from badly shaken up to seriously pissed off.” Shields poured herself a cup of coffee. “She’s on the phone with the foreign affairs minister, Khan, demanding that they speed up the permitting process for our drones.”
Connor hadn’t asked her to do that, but he sure as hell approved.
“I think I like the lass,” McManus said.
Shields passed him without sparing him a glance. “You like all the lasses.”