Siren in the Wind Book One of the MIT Series

Chapter Thirty Six

When they reached their destination, five guerrillas pulled Abby out and held her separately, boxing her in with AK47s being waved about. Roman stroked a gun across her temple and Max had no choice but to comply. The container was backed into an open door of a large structure, enclosed in thick concrete walls and a solid concrete roof with no windows. Of all his fucking luck, any signal would be blocked by the solid structure.

If it were just him, Max would have already made a move. With Abby in the mix, saying it was complicated was a gross understatement.

Max made his play. "I know where her son is."

Abby gasped, and Max deliberately avoided eye contact. He had no idea where Gabe was but Roman didn't know that. Abby probably wondered if Max had intel on Gabe's whereabouts.

Roman regarded Max warily before handing Abby off. "If he makes any moves, break her arm."

Max didn't plan on making a move. Hopefully, the fake intel would get them on a plane to Cape Town and his team would be on them like white on rice.

"I'm guessing you're some kind of covert operative who knows the value of her son, both to Khalid as well as your country. Why would you give up the location so easily?"

"I'm tired of working for a government who doesn't give a damn about me and I know how you'll extract information from us. The danger pay isn't worth it."

"What are you looking to get out of this revelation?"

"Whatever is on offer. I'd like to walk away with my ass intact."

Roman's body language and lack of interest were worrying. The mercenary ambled over. The designer bush shirt and tailored linen pants he wore looked magazine worthy. Despite baking in a metal container for the past few hours, the puffed-up dickhead looked like he could pose in a Safari photo shoot.

"Give me the address."

A retired SAS colleague lived in the Cape. Two years ago, Johnny and Max flew in for a quick visit. If he led Khalid into his friend's neighborhood, Johnny would catch on and give their British buddy a heads-up. MIT2 could roll out the infidel welcome mat.

"Do you think I'm foolish enough to give you the exact location? You get that when we arrive. He's in the Parklands area on the Western Seaboard." Max was spouting bull-crap, but Abby played along, struggling, calling him a traitor and a bastard. He met Roman's unblinking stare, refusing to look away.

Roman slipped his hands into his pockets. "Playing games will get her killed. For every lie that comes from your Yankee mouth, I'll remove one of her limbs." He turned to his men. "Secure him."

The intel was dismissed out of hand, which made no sense. The terrorists should at least try to verify it. Max sensed a sudden void as he tried to work out Roman's game. More shackles lay welded to the floor. They secured his ankle. Abby wasn't restrained and that bothered Max. It meant they planned to take her from him at some point. Max slid down the wall and Abby backed up against him. No words were said, none were needed. They'd stripped her of her jacket. Her ponytail was a saggy mess; Max pulled out the elastic, burying his nose in her hair, her warm body reassuring him that she was still alive and in one piece.

Two guards stood at the far end, near the rolling shutter doors. The empty concrete cell was devoid of furniture. Max visually scanned the room carefully for bugs and couldn't spot any in the hollow space. There was a possibility that he'd missed one and Max pulled her head to his ear, telling her so.

"Why did he outright ignore the location you gave him?" Abby whispered.

"I don't know, it doesn't make any sense, maybe he sensed it was a play." Max mentally ran over all the angles as he carefully braided her hair.