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She scrolled down to see the international headlines. A fire in a factory in Brazil. An E. coli outbreak in the UK. And there it was at the bottom of the screen. A small article with the headline Kingdom of Jordan Demands Extradition of American Archaeologist for Looting Ancient Site.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chris found Diana curled in a ball in the back of his mostly empty walk-in pantry. “Jesus Christ, Diana. You scared the hell out of me.”
She raised her head, her eyes puffy and her face tear streaked. “They’re going to send me back.”
He dropped down before her. “Just because Jordan has requested extradition, doesn’t mean the State Department will comply.” Chris had seen the headline. Kramer had arrived at the gym just as he was finishing and mentioned it. Chris had forced himself to show only mild interest and ended up working out for another half hour so the SEAL wouldn’t wonder why he went running off the moment he heard.
She swiped at her cheek. “They’ll give in. You know they will.”
He rolled to his backside and settled in the corner under the shelves with her. His head brushed the empty shelf above him, and he scrunched down and pulled her to his side.
“We’ll fight this. The State Department never moves fast on these kinds of things.”
“They’re eager to make amends after the failed raid. They’ll give me up sooner rather than later.”
“Morgan and Freya have connections.”
“Not big enough for this. And we can’t tell them where I am. You’re the one who decided that.”
“We’ll find a way to communicate indirectly. Hell, Freya is CIA. She probably has back channels set up already.”
“If we do that, you can’t be part of it.”
“I’m on leave. There’s no reason I can’t help you.”
“There is one big-ass huge reason.”
“What’s that?”
“Aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“You aren’t a fugitive.”
“Yet.”
He had to acknowledge she was right on that point. How many days did they have until the State Department agreed and demanded she turn herself in?
She shifted and cupped his cheeks, looking straight into his eyes. Long gone was the cool, calm hostage who’d orchestrated her escape with her captors in a slot canyon half a world away. Now her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Her nose red. She looked defeated. “I can’t let you risk your career, your life, your freedom for me. I’ll turn myself in first.”
Fear jolted him. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? What I’m accused of…I did it. I looted the site. I’m guilty. All because I thought I saw Rafiq. But maybe…maybe it wasn’t even him.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Diana barely managed to get the last word out before a sob from the bottom of her soul escaped.
There. She’d said it. The thing she’d denied for weeks. The horror she’d buried in the back of her mind from the moment she’d faced a Pakistani orderly and asked herself if that was the man she’d seen at the far end of the hospital corridor.
No. She’d seen Jamal. She knew him.
Was she wrong? Worse, had she been wrong about Rafiq?
It was the last thing she wanted to admit to anyone, let alone herself, but she couldn’t fight it anymore.
What if she’d been wrong? What if she’d made a mistake that night in September and was so entrenched in the belief she didn’t see anything but what she’d expected in late October?
