Mary Alford

Deadly Memories


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wouldn’t have survived if it were not for the gentle care she’d received from the woman who’d shared her cell. She’d been barely hanging on to life, yet she recalled the woman talking to her about God. Praying for her. Singing soothing songs.

      But her memory of how the woman had looked was fuzzy. Sometimes, if she closed her eyes, Ella could almost remember the woman’s face. She’d looked much like herself—or maybe it was just her memory playing tricks.

      What she could recall with clarity was the day Alhasan took the woman away. After that, Ella never saw her again. She wasn’t sure how long it was before Alhasan brought her Joseph. Weeks. Months, even.

      Her love for Joseph soon became the only thing that kept her going through the years. Leaving the prison without him now felt like she was deserting him. She didn’t know what to do. The thought of such an innocent child subject to Alhasan’s cruelty ripped her heart out. But she’d searched the cells. Joseph wasn’t there.

      She would have to survive long enough to find him. To do that she had to keep moving. Put space between herself and the prison.

      Ella dug out her necklace from where she’d hidden it years ago inside the small pocket of her jeans. Each time they’d given her new clothes, she’d carefully hid the chain in the same pocket while terrified that Alhasan or one of his men would find it. Always surprised when they hadn’t.

      A simple silver ring with two entwined hearts dangled from the chain. She couldn’t remember where it came from, but through the years she found a small comfort in knowing it belonged to another lifetime. A happier time. Ella put the necklace on for the first time and started walking.

      The simple act quickly took its toll on her weak body, forcing frequent breaks just to catch her breath. After she’d covered some distance, she took stock of her surroundings. All around was desert. To her left, mountains loomed against the night sky.

      Where was she? Like she’d done endless times, she tried to recall the slightest memory of being captured, but it was useless.

      Fighting back the hopelessness, she headed for the mountain range. At least they would provide some cover. She could watch the prison and surrounding area safely from there. Her gut told her Joseph was still nearby. She wouldn’t leave until she found him or she died trying.

      That she’d escaped at all was a blessing. She would do everything in her power to save Joseph, and she’d leave the rest of it in God’s hands.

      Ella had barely covered a quarter of a mile when something unsettling caught her attention. The ground beneath her feet rumbled with the sound of an approaching vehicle. She could see its lights. There wasn’t as much as a bush to hide behind. She was in the open and exposed. What if it was Alhasan? The thought threatened to take away what little bit of courage she possessed.

      She was still standing, frozen in terror, when a Humvee came to a screaming halt in front of her.

      The driver jumped from the vehicle with his weapon drawn. “Get your hands in the air,” he shouted.

      His voice...his voice. She recognized it!

      Ella sucked in a shocked breath, imprisoned by the intimate sound. Had she heard correctly? Maybe she was delusional and this was all part of a dream?

      Fragmented recollections flew through her head. No, she was positive she knew his voice. She struggled to hold her focus.

      “I said get your hands in the air,” he ordered once more. Ella hesitated for a second longer then lifted her hands, the knife she’d taken from the camp soldier still in her left hand.

      This new threat quickly spotted, his tone turned deadly. “Drop the weapon. Now.”

      She hurriedly let it go. The man moved closer and kicked the knife out of her reach.

      “Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” he demanded while keeping his weapon trained securely on her head.

      The faintest of memories teased her briefly then disappeared. How did she know him?

      She silently prayed for the strength to do as he asked. Ella dropped awkwardly to her knees. Bile rose in her throat and she swayed back and forth, fighting to stay conscious.

      She squinted through the headlights. If she could just make out his face...

      The man shifted on his feet, and then she knew. With a mixture of shock and horror, her suspicions were confirmed. She definitely recognized him. She’d seen his face dozens of times in the photos Alhasan had shown her. This was the leader of the elite CIA team known as the Scorpions.

      She’d seen photos for each of the team’s eight members. Alhasan had told her that Kyle Jennings had created the Scorpions after the war to fight the rising number of terrorist groups in Afghanistan and in an effort to prevent weapons from falling into the wrong hands. He’d raged on about the Scorpions’ interference in his activities and bragged about taking out key members in the past. Then he’d laid out what was expected of her if she wanted to save Joseph.

      “I can’t believe it’s you,” she whispered in total disbelief, still not certain she wasn’t hallucinating.

      This was the Scorpions’ leader. The man she was supposed to kill.

      * * *

      Somehow, Agent Kyle Jennings managed to hang on to his composure. Even weak and raspy, when she’d spoken she’d sounded exactly like...Lena. The thought struck home like a lightning bolt and he immediately rejected the notion.

      Impossible. He’d buried his wife almost seven years ago when her badly burned body was discovered in the desert close to this same area. The overwhelming grief and heartache he still experienced every time he thought about losing her assured him there was no coming back from that. Lena was gone. And he had a purpose to fulfill.

      He’d come here to meet Hadir after receiving an ominous text message from his asset. She was unexpected. What was she doing out here anyway, in the middle of a territory the military had nicknamed no-man’s-land for good reason? This Afghanistan desert terrain was under the control of the Fox, the CIA’s most wanted terrorist target.

      Kyle recalled something disturbing Hadir had told him recently. The man had said the Fox had bragged about grooming a female operative for a critical mission that would shock the world.

      And he was certain this woman recognized him. The only question was how? Because of the criticalness of their missions, anonymity was key. The Scorpion team members’ names and personal information were closely guarded. There were no pictures of the team in circulation. Their background files were kept in a safe at Scorpion headquarters in Painted Rock Valley, Colorado.

      How would she know him?

      With the lights at his back, he moved a little to the left so that he could see the woman’s face more clearly. Through the dust motes caught in the headlights, what he saw just about took his legs out from underneath him. She looked like Lena. Her hair—raven black—was the same color as Lena’s, although it was much longer and looked as if it hadn’t been cared for properly in a while.

      But it was her eyes that really got to him. They were dark brown and soulful, like his wife’s had been.

      His mouth twisted involuntarily at a memory. He recalled how he used to joke with Lena that at times it was as if she could look right through him. He saw the same expression in this woman’s gaze and it was gut-wrenching. Shocking.

      He crushed the tiniest bit of hope taking life inside his heart. He couldn’t go there.

      Kyle struggled to pull his thoughts together. “You recognize me?” The question came out sharper than he intended, mostly because everything about her unnerved him.

      He waited for an answer she clearly had no intention of giving. She shook her head and stared at the ground.

      Frustrated, Kyle glanced around the area. It was just the two of them, but clearly she believed she recognized him.

      I