Read Online The Defiant Hero by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
Tags: romantic suspense
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watch what you say—the room is bugged—we found the mikes.”
Meg stepped away from him, turned down the music, turned to face him. “Do you have identification saying that you’re . . . who you are,” she said to him. In Welsh. Because the two people in Kazbekistan who spoke that language were both here in this room. Nothing they said in Welsh would be understood by anyone listening in. And it would take the K-stani government weeks—if not months—to find a translator.
He grinned at her. “You’re brilliant,” he said, also in Welsh.
She should have known he was American yesterday, from the first moment he’d smiled. His was definitely an all-American smile.
“No ID,” he added. “Not on a covert op like this. We go in completely sanitized.”
“How was it possible you pulled this off?” she asked. He’d actually asked to meet with the K-stani officials this afternoon. How gutsy was that? “Weren’t you afraid someone would know you weren’t Abdelaziz?”
“We’re about the same height and build,” he told her, “and about the same age. Same general description—brown hair and eyes. I took a gamble there were no detailed photos of old Abdel lying around, and won big time.”
Meg shook her head. “Still . . .”
“I used an old con,” he explained. “We came running in here with the K-stani Army pointing at us and shouting about Abdelaziz, right? The U.S. ambassador comes to see us and everyone points to me when he asks who’s Abdelaziz. And why would we lie, right? So when the K-stani officials were invited to join our little discussion this afternoon, I’m officially introduced as Abdelaziz by the U.S. ambassador. Now both sides are convinced I’m their man.
“Believe me, the members of the K-stani government were the ones who thought they were getting away with some kind of con. By shipping out all three of the SEALs who’d been sent to protect me while I was in that meeting . . . ?” He laughed. “They’re probably still congratulating themselves on their deviousness.”
He was amazing. But if the K-stani government believed him to be Abdelaziz . . . Forget about the fact that they were wrong. He was in danger.
For starters, they had to change his appearance. Right now, with the exception of his perfect smile, he looked like someone named Abdelaziz. For his own safety, he had to transform back into Ens. John Nilsson as quickly as possible.
“We’ll give you a haircut,” she decided. “A buzz cut. Something really GI Joe. And I’ll see if I can find a uniform.”
His smile faded. “I don’t want you to get into trouble for helping me.”
“I won’t.” She moved toward the door. “Do you trust me enough to let me start looking for something a little more military for you to wear?”
He held out his hands, palms up, in a gesture that might have been interpreted as surrender. But combined with his words and that warmth in his eyes, it became part of the nicest compliment she’d ever received. “I trust you completely, Meg.”
Meg managed to scare up a Marine uniform. That and the haircut she gave him made him look far more like an American.
The next few days were crazy. Kazbekistan nearly declared war when they found out that Abdelaziz had been spirited out of the country. And the foreign service staff at the embassy was furious, too. It took a solid week of frantic explanations and apologies to convince the K-stani government that they had been duped as well. And even then the ambassador and his staff were left looking and feeling extremely foolish.
Meanwhile John Nilsson was kept locked in Meg’s office, under guard.
It was entirely possible that if Meg hadn’t kept bringing him food, he wouldn’t have been fed. She brought him books and newspapers and often stayed to keep him company. She brought Amy to visit with him, too, mostly to remind him—and herself—that she was married and much older than he was. Anything other than
Meg stepped away from him, turned down the music, turned to face him. “Do you have identification saying that you’re . . . who you are,” she said to him. In Welsh. Because the two people in Kazbekistan who spoke that language were both here in this room. Nothing they said in Welsh would be understood by anyone listening in. And it would take the K-stani government weeks—if not months—to find a translator.
He grinned at her. “You’re brilliant,” he said, also in Welsh.
She should have known he was American yesterday, from the first moment he’d smiled. His was definitely an all-American smile.
“No ID,” he added. “Not on a covert op like this. We go in completely sanitized.”
“How was it possible you pulled this off?” she asked. He’d actually asked to meet with the K-stani officials this afternoon. How gutsy was that? “Weren’t you afraid someone would know you weren’t Abdelaziz?”
“We’re about the same height and build,” he told her, “and about the same age. Same general description—brown hair and eyes. I took a gamble there were no detailed photos of old Abdel lying around, and won big time.”
Meg shook her head. “Still . . .”
“I used an old con,” he explained. “We came running in here with the K-stani Army pointing at us and shouting about Abdelaziz, right? The U.S. ambassador comes to see us and everyone points to me when he asks who’s Abdelaziz. And why would we lie, right? So when the K-stani officials were invited to join our little discussion this afternoon, I’m officially introduced as Abdelaziz by the U.S. ambassador. Now both sides are convinced I’m their man.
“Believe me, the members of the K-stani government were the ones who thought they were getting away with some kind of con. By shipping out all three of the SEALs who’d been sent to protect me while I was in that meeting . . . ?” He laughed. “They’re probably still congratulating themselves on their deviousness.”
He was amazing. But if the K-stani government believed him to be Abdelaziz . . . Forget about the fact that they were wrong. He was in danger.
For starters, they had to change his appearance. Right now, with the exception of his perfect smile, he looked like someone named Abdelaziz. For his own safety, he had to transform back into Ens. John Nilsson as quickly as possible.
“We’ll give you a haircut,” she decided. “A buzz cut. Something really GI Joe. And I’ll see if I can find a uniform.”
His smile faded. “I don’t want you to get into trouble for helping me.”
“I won’t.” She moved toward the door. “Do you trust me enough to let me start looking for something a little more military for you to wear?”
He held out his hands, palms up, in a gesture that might have been interpreted as surrender. But combined with his words and that warmth in his eyes, it became part of the nicest compliment she’d ever received. “I trust you completely, Meg.”
Meg managed to scare up a Marine uniform. That and the haircut she gave him made him look far more like an American.
The next few days were crazy. Kazbekistan nearly declared war when they found out that Abdelaziz had been spirited out of the country. And the foreign service staff at the embassy was furious, too. It took a solid week of frantic explanations and apologies to convince the K-stani government that they had been duped as well. And even then the ambassador and his staff were left looking and feeling extremely foolish.
Meanwhile John Nilsson was kept locked in Meg’s office, under guard.
It was entirely possible that if Meg hadn’t kept bringing him food, he wouldn’t have been fed. She brought him books and newspapers and often stayed to keep him company. She brought Amy to visit with him, too, mostly to remind him—and herself—that she was married and much older than he was. Anything other than
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