Sheikh's Rule. Ryshia Kennie

Sheikh's Rule - Ryshia Kennie


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we’ll have bought enough time to get some help,” Emir said.

      Talib paced, his fists clenched and his jaw set. “We can’t do nothing,” he growled.

      “Agreed.” Emir paused, considering the options. He met Zafir’s eyes. Although Zafir was younger by only minutes, there was never dissention because of birth order; they were usually in agreement. The slight tilt of Zafir’s head told him they were in agreement in this situation, as well. His gaze went to Talib—of the three of them, the one most likely to act impulsively, more likely to insist, as he already had, that they go at the kidnappers en masse with guns blazing. He didn’t blame him. They all felt the pain, the shock and the anger. For it was their baby sister they were talking about.

      “For now, we act like nothing has happened,” Emir said.

      “No.” Talib’s fist clenched and he brought it down on the desk, making a trio of pens jump. His eyes met Emir’s, passion blazing as his jaw clenched. His shoulder-length hair did not hide the strength in his jaw or the anger in his flashing brown eyes. “I’ll kill...”

      “We’ll kill...” Zafir corrected. “When the time comes. First we get Tara home in the safest way possible. Too many of us would be an obvious and threatening action to the kidnappers, which will only endanger Tara. And that’s one thing we will not do.”

      For it was not just them, Emir knew. There was their youngest brother, Faisal, whom he had yet to contact. He feared that Faisal would be on the first plane from Jackson, Wyoming, to Marrakech as soon as he heard. It was why he’d contacted their second-in-command at their Wyoming branch first, for Emir hadn’t thought of a way to forestall his brother once he was aware of the situation. “Faisal...” he began as if his thoughts and his voice were one.

      “I’ll speak to Faisal.” Zafir cut him off. “There’s no need for him here. Not yet.”

      Emir nodded. He worried that it might take both of them to keep Faisal in the States and not jumping on the first plane. He hoped Faisal’s common sense would do the job when he heard what was in place to ensure Tara’s safe return.

      “I spoke to Adam,” Emir admitted. It was one of the first things he’d done when he’d received that devastating call just before 4:00 a.m.

      Adam Whitman had been a good friend from his college days at Wyoming State and was now second-in-command in the Wyoming branch of their security agency. He was one of the few people outside the family Emir could trust. They had always had each other’s back, even though, through the years, there’d been long lapses where neither one had contacted the other.

      “And?” Zafir prodded.

      “Adam’s concerned that our family is high-profile, too well known. If this is a straight kidnapping case, that’s one thing, but if there’s some sort of revenge on the family...” He paused, collecting his thoughts.

      “Revenge?” Talib’s fist clenched and Zafir looked worried.

      “We don’t know, but fresh eyes... Adam might have something. The agent he’s assigned will be looking at it from a different angle, without any preconceived ideas.”

      “He might see something we’ll miss because of familiarity,” Talib said.

      “Exactly,” Emir agreed and Zafir nodded.

      “The other thing...the man he’s recommending is an amazing profiler. Exactly what we need and the first thing I mentioned when I called Adam. We want nothing less than the best.” He looked at his brothers, saw the pained expression on both their faces and, still, determination radiated from them. They wouldn’t be beaten. He felt hope just being surrounded by them and he knew he in turn gave them hope. That was the way it had always been.

      “Who is it?” Talib asked. “There’ve been a number of new hires in the Wyoming branch.”

      Emir shrugged. He’d get the name when he gave Adam the update after his brothers left. For now, names were irrelevant; he trusted Adam’s judgment. “He’s new, but Adam claims he’s good.”

      Silence seemed to steep like an uneasy brew through the room as every instinct urged them to surge forward, armed-dangerous, potentially lethal as they plowed over the threat. But they were hobbled by a threat that had intelligence they weren’t privy to; it knew exactly where they were and, worse, it held what they claimed most precious.

      “We have no idea where they’ve taken her,” Emir said. “Only that they want money and their demands, I suspect, will continue to go up.”

      Emir’s stomach clenched and he ached to see his sister’s kidnappers’ blood seeping into the depths of the endless desert sand. But he needed something more than revenge. He needed his baby sister safe. He looked at the ink staining the ancient rug and the cracked phone, both evidence that he had lost control.

      “Here’s what we will do...” He motioned his brothers to sit and he laid out what had and would be done in the hours that followed.

      “I don’t like it, but it makes sense,” Talib said ten minutes later.

      “Forty-eight hours, Emir. No more,” Zafir interrupted as he clapped his hand on Emir’s shoulder.

      “Or less if we’re needed,” Talib said.

      “Or if you lose contact,” Zafir said.

      “Agreed. But if there’s progress, that may change.” Emir had explained his conditions and knew it was a shaky agreement. With their sister’s life in jeopardy, he was surprised his brothers had agreed to that much. But they knew how delicate a situation like this was. No one had to be reminded of what they stood to lose.

      Tara, the only girl in the family, with none of the brothers in a steady relationship, was all that was soft and feminine in the family. Without her, Emir knew that the niceties in life would disappear as easily as that beautiful vase beneath Talib’s fist. She organized family celebrations and get-togethers, remembered family traditions. Only last month she’d gotten them all together on Skype for a toast to his and Zafir’s birthday. Without her... He wouldn’t think of it, couldn’t.

      Twenty minutes later, as his brothers exited the room, he picked up the phone. Fortunately its case was the only thing that had cracked in his initial rage. He punched the number of the Wyoming branch of their security agency. Adam picked up on the second ring.

      Emir laid out what had transpired since they’d last spoken.

      “Don’t do anything more until K.J. gets there. Promise me.” Adam’s voice held an edge of concern.

      Eight hours. It was a long time—it was forever. “I don’t know if I can do it,” he said.

      “I don’t know what more to say, Emir. K.J.’s already en route.”

      Emir sucked in a relieved breath at that.

      “As we agreed, I’m sending the best. And despite the fact that I’m not coming over—this agent is better than either me or, for that matter, Faisal. It took a bit of work at this end, had to rearrange a few cases, but you’re not going after these perps without the best at your side.”

      “I appreciate it,” Emir said, and the call ended seconds later. There was nothing more to say.

      For now, all he could do was wait. He began to pace.

      * * *

      Somewhere over the Atlantic

      Monday, September 14, 9:00 a.m. GMT

      K. J. GELINSKY’S LONG legs were stretched in front of her and a cup of coffee sat at her elbow. Jackson, Wyoming, was a long way away and yet only days ago she’d been admiring the view from her apartment window, still in awe of the mountain peaks that cradled the city. Now the only view was the blind that covered the jet’s window and hid the endless expanse of the Atlantic. At another time she would have soaked up the luxury of flying on such a plane, the decadence of being


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