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Secret
Agent Sheikh
Linda Conrad
Table of Contents
When asked about her favorite things, LINDA CONRAD lists a longtime love affair with her husband, her sweetheart of a dog named KiKi and a sunny afternoon with nothing to do but read a good book. Inspired by generations of storytellers in her family and pleased to have many happy readers’ comments, Linda continues creating her own sensuous and suspenseful stories about compelling characters finding love.
A bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, Linda has received numerous industry awards, among them the National Reader’s Choice Award, the Maggie, the Write Touch Readers’ Award and the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. To contact Linda, read more about her books or to sign up for her newsletter and/or contests, go to her website at www.LindaConrad.com.
To Shelley and Peggy, the most ingenious
website and newsletter creators ever! You two are the greatest!
Swinging in midair under an endless star-filled sky like some kind of superhero, Tarik Kadir held his breath until his feet reached the solid surface of the ledge.
Monte Carlo’s tourists went about their business at sea level twelve stories below—oblivious to the drama unfolding high above their heads. Steadying himself, Tarik released the thin metal rappelling cable attached to the safety harness under his specially outfitted tuxedo shirt.
He let the line go loose and flattened his body against the stucco wall, stopping to let his pounding heart calm. But his heart continued thundering in his chest. Dropping over a dark abyss with nothing but air between your very existence and certain death was not his idea of smart.
The best part of his job had always been hiding in plain sight. Preferably at the nearest casino table. Becoming a different personality and handing people bold-faced lies was much more in keeping with his lifestyle than any crazy high-flying acrobatics needed to reach hotel ledges. After all, his brothers had always maintained that as the baby of the family, he’d excelled from earliest childhood at being a chameleon and making up stories.
He was born for his old job as a covert agent. But the Kadir family had recently asked all their sons to assume the responsibility for their growing war with ancient enemies, the Taj Zabbar. Out of loyalty, Tarik resigned his commission with the United States Army immediately upon learning of his family’s need for him to lead their intel-gathering efforts.
His foot slipped on the slick ledge and Tarik lost his balance. Grabbing hold of the uneven brick wall with his fingertips, he tried balancing on tiptoes. Looking out at the black expanse of ocean in the distance and the ant people strolling the seawall directly below, he swallowed back his panic and relied on innate athleticism to regain his balance.
Breathing slowly in and out, he made his way along the twelfth story ledge of Monte Carlo’s Le Meridien Beach Plaza hotel. His thoughts turned to his former work as a member of a special para-military task force—a cross-branch compilation of Army Special Forces, Navy Seals and CIA spooks. He regretted having to quit and he missed working with some of the most elite men and women in the world of covert intelligence. His old unit had been special, known within the Department of Defense for its ability to track down international mobsters and terrorists while staying in the shadows.
With his heartbeat stabilized again, Tarik cleared his head, inching along in the darkness. As he reached the balcony of the penthouse suite, he slipped over the open railing and the half glass-wall enclosure and crouched down to conceal himself behind a potted palm. The balcony doors had been closed against the chilly night air, but he’d paid the maid a small fortune to see that the sliding glass was left unlocked for the night.
A secret power-broker meeting was supposedly about to take place in the suite on the other side of these glass doors. He needed to be in position with his high-tech surveillance and listening equipment before any of the action began.
Tarik peered past the edge of the glass. The room was an enormous space, set up with a temporary conference table surrounded by six captain’s chairs. A handful of men had already gathered and were standing at a bar with drinks in their hands.
He recognized the Russian gangster who’d reputedly organized this little get-together from his CIA dossier. The gangster was Karolek Petrov, a renowned physics genius before the fall of the Soviet Union who had since amassed a $300 million empire based on illegal banking ventures and arms deals.
Tarik had to hand it to his