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It would all be worth it if Rafiq was brought in. Sadly, Rafiq’s capture or kill was worth far more to the US and their allies than the rescue of Dr. Edwards. But then, even Edwards knew that.
Directly in front of Chris was a narrow set of stairs. Access to the second-floor businesses. Behind the staircase was a door to the ground floor. If Edwards had entered on one of the higher floors, she’d have been looking for a way out on the ground floor.
Chris instructed the two SEALs who were entering on the other side to take the stairs to the second floor. He and Albrecht would search the ground level.
The interior door was unlocked. Chris and Albrecht flanked the doorway and listened. Hearing nothing, Albrecht pulled the door open and Chris went through, scanning the wide corridor with his M4A1. Albrecht followed, covering Chris’s six and scanning the other direction.
The corridor appeared to run the length of the building, a simple, basic design. Businesses on the north face, offices, storage, and utilities across the corridor on the south side.
They’d entered the building on the west end, between a small lunch shop and a larger dental office. He and Albrecht moved slowly down the dark corridor.
A shrill scream sounded at the far end. A woman’s scream, most likely.
He ran, pausing to listen at closed doors only briefly in search of the screamer. They reached another stairwell. Through the panel, Chris heard a woman speaking in Arabic. Her tone sounded desperate. Something that carried through no matter the language.
He recognized her voice. He’d memorized it after watching his bodycam footage a thousand times.
Diana shoved against Bassam’s hold, letting loose a primal scream that gave her strength. He fell back, and she turned, but he caught her again, wrenching her arm.
“Please, Bassam. You don’t have to do this. Let me go.”
He snarled and cursed. The young man who had been at times almost kind was long gone. But then, by making her escape, she’d endangered him and his brother again. Even worse than when she’d broken the artifact. Then they’d been allies in the cover-up, but there was no covering up that she’d escaped on his watch.
She kicked at his knee and would have made for the exit, but he fell in that direction, so her only option was to make a break for the stairs. He caught up with her before she reached the second landing. Grabbing her foot, he yanked.
Pain exploded as he twisted her already-abused limb. She fell, her chin slamming on the metal step. She tasted blood, her teeth biting deep into her tongue.
Bassam tugged at her foot, pulling her down the steps. She twisted and spit blood on him as she kicked at his head.
He wrenched her knee, and she let out a shrill scream as she grabbed an iron baluster to prevent him from pulling her down. With his hands on her ankle, he didn’t have a hand free to wield a weapon of any kind.
She kicked at his face again. This time, her boot connected with his jaw, and his head snapped back.
Above her, she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Jamal. She’d been cornered before she even ran up the stairs. Before Bassam had destroyed her ability to walk or run.
A window next to the exterior door offered some light in the darkened stairwell. Bassam pulled her down the stairs as if she was a rag doll. Adrenaline no longer masked the pain, and she felt each step as a blow. She grappled for an iron baluster, but couldn’t grip anything. Her neck hit a step, and she felt the sharp edge of the glass shard.
At last, she hit the landing, and Bassam pulled her up, but her abused leg would no longer support her.
She exaggerated her fall, twisting so he couldn’t see her hand as she plucked the glass from the hidden pocket.
“Don’t do this, Bassam! I won’t go back.” She didn’t have to fake the urgency in her voice, but he didn’t know what she was pleading for.
She would do anything to escape, even kill him if she had to.
The door to the first-floor corridor opened, and she turned, expecting to see one of the other guards. Her heart leapt when she spotted the outline of a man in full military gear in the dim light.
A SEAL.
“Let her go,” the SEAL said. The commanding voice sounded almost familiar, but she doubted it was the same man.
Bassam let out a primal yell and yanked her to him, so he could use her as a shield.
“Not this time,” she said, almost in a whisper and brandished the glass shard.
He slapped at her hand, but she blocked him with her left hand, holding the glass with its sharpest edge ready to strike.
The SEAL pointed his weapon at Bassam. “Release her, and I’ll let you walk away.”
