Read Online Secret Soldier by Dana Marton - Free Book Online

was a big city where progress had replaced some old traditions still held rigidly in the countryside. She’d even seen a woman working at the hotel, although she sat in a back room answering phones only, so she wouldn’t have to come into face-to-face contact with the male customers.
    Abigail scanned the people at each table. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to her. Then a familiar face caught her gaze. “Jamal.” He was wearing an, olivegreen business suit, talking rapidly to the man seated across the table from him.
    “Friend of yours?”
    “We went to college together. He was friends with my boyfriend at the time.” Nate Korsky, the man who had taught her about life outside her own little world, the man who had shown her the way and then refused to follow.
    Nate had been a bitter disappointment. A rousing speaker, a passionate peace activist, but it all ended there, with only talk and no action. And then she found out he was arousing more than just high emotions at peace rallies. Apparently he had a number of “close supporters” at a few sororities. Afterward, Anthony, with his maturity, old-world Italian charm and shared culture, had seemed like a knight in shining armor in comparison. He seemed perfect. Her parents adored him, and that deep sexy baritone had seduced her into turning a blind eye to the warning signs that eventually appeared.
    “Do you want to go over to say hi before we leave?” Gerald set his fork down and picked up his glass.
    They hadn’t really known each other that well. Jamal had been more Nate’s friend than hers. Still… “Why not?” she said.
    But Jamal and his companion rose to leave long before she was done with her meal. She wiped her mouth, watching as they made their way among the tables toward her. Luckily, Gerald had picked a table right by the door so the men had to walk by them to get out.
    “Jamal?”
    He stopped and looked at her.
    “Abigail DiMatteo. Remember? Nate Korsky’s girlfriend from Georgetown.”
    His aristocratic mouth immediately stretched into a warm smile. “Abigail? Forgive me, I didn’t recognize you dressed like this,” he said in nearly unaccented English.
    Gerald stood and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Gerald Thornton, Abigail’s husband. Would you join us for coffee?”
    Jamal hesitated for a moment. “Certainly. Excuse me for a second.”
    He walked his companion to the door, where they talked for another minute or two, and then he returned to their table.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked Abigail.
    “I work in Tukatar, starting up a program for war orphans.”
    “Still trying to save the world?” He flashed her a warm smile then turned to Gerald. “And you?”
    “I’m filming her work to prepare a documentary. Well, I was filming.” He shrugged. “Our hut was firebombed yesterday, so for the moment we are without a home or supplies.”
    She knew what was coming before Jamal even opened his mouth and could have kicked Gerald under the table for it.
    “You must stay at my home. I would love to have you as my guests for as long as you would like.”
    Middle Eastern hospitality allowed no other answer. “That’s very kind of you, but we got a room at the Hilton. We’ll be fine.”
    “I insist. I could not let my friends stay at a hotel when my home is so close to the city. May I send a car for you later?”
    “That would be lovely. Thank you,” she said, knowing that to refuse would have been incredibly rude, if not an outright offense.
     

Chapter Four
    Spike looked around the room and wished Jamal had sent Abigail to the women’s quarters. Rooming together would make it harder to place the dozen or so bugs he had hidden in the secret compartment of his sandal before burning down the hut.
    He would distribute the bugs then get Abigail out of there as fast as he could. Once he told the Colonel his mission had been accomplished, a surveillance team would be sent in with the proper equipment. They could pick up