* * *
Elizabeth sippedher coffee and read reports about known threats to the Saudi royal family, some in English, some in Arabic. The list of potential dangers wasn’t short. The royal family had around ten thousand members, with forty-three potential heirs to the throne, some of whom hated the current king and crown prince.
Then there was Iran and the Iran-backed Houthi fighters in Yemen. There were also escaped al-Qaeda and ISIL/ISIS cells hiding inside the Saudi homeland. If that weren’t enough, Libya, Syria, Hezbollah, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, Israel, Thailand, North Korea, and Russia all had scores to settle with the kingdom and its ruling family.
If Cobra accepted this job, she would be leading a team to audit Saudi Arabian security. Shaken up by an attack on their oil fields, the Saudi government wanted a second opinion on how best to protect its assets and ruling family. It would be an interesting mission and a chance to use her Arabic, but Saudi Arabia wasn’t her favorite destination. Why couldn’t Cobra send her on a mission to Tahiti or Bali?
She was reading an account of a Houthi attack on a Saudi border checkpoint when Tower stuck his head through her door.
“Got a minute?”
“You’re the boss. I have all the time you need.”
He sat in the chair across from her, dressed as always in a tailored suit. “Corbray spent the morning on the phone with Riyadh. We’ve turned down the job.”
“We turned it down?” She tried not to look relieved. “Why?”
“It seems the minister in charge of the audit didn’t want a woman leading the team. Corbray explained that we assign the best people to each task and that the best person in this case was a woman. They couldn’t accept that, so we told them we weren’t interested.”
Elizabeth gaped at Tower. “That must have been a million-dollar contract.”
“Almost two million, actually.” Tower didn’t seem bothered by this. “This company won’t let bigotry or sexism determine who’s part of a mission and who isn’t. It’s not fair to our staff, and it’s not who we are as a company, no matter how big the payday.”
Warmth blossomed in Elizabeth’s chest. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
She’d spent her entire adult life working in a heavily male-dominated field, dealing with everything from subtle chauvinism to groping. She’d learned to fight for herself, to be a woman no one dared to abuse—or ignore. She wasn’t used to others standing up for her.
Tower stood. “Have you heard anything from McManus?”
Now why would he ask Elizabeth that question?
“Not a word.” Okay, so she’d gotten one word from Quinn — two words, in fact.
Thank You.
That’s all he’d said.
Not that she’d expected more. Quinn was dealing with a big loss and was home among friends. Yes, he enjoyed flirting with her and teasing her, but in the end, she was just a coworker.
“I guess you don’t have to read all of that.” Tower pointed to the stack of reports. “Go play in the snow. You must have lots of personal time after this last mission.”
Being on a job site often entailed twelve- to eighteen-hour days with occasional all-nighters. The company balanced that out with liberal vacation and personal time in an effort to prevent burnout and maintain peak performance.
“Thanks, but I’m still going to read it all. I like to stay current, and, believe it or not, I find it interesting.”
Tower nodded. “I guess that’s why you’re one of the best.”
He left her to her work.
* * *
Quinn saton the sofa of his hotel room, a bottle in his hand, images from the day turning over in his mind. Ava in tears. Jack’s wee ones playing, unable to understand that their da was forever gone. The police detective asking Ava’s permission to search Jack’s belongings.
“Not without a warrant,” Ava had said, getting to her feet, her cheeks flushing with anger. “You’re supposed to find the man who murdered my husband, not treat him like a suspect!”
Then the detective had turned to Quinn and pelted him with questions. What was his relationship with the deceased? Where was he the night Jack was murdered? When was the last time he’d spoken with Jack? Had he ever known Jack to use drugs?
It had taken great restraint for Quinn to answer without resorting to profanity. He and Jack had been best pals since their army days. He’d been in Afghanistan on U.S. government business the night Jack died. He’d last spoken to Jack almost a month past. Naw, Jack wasnotthe sort of man to use drugs.