The reports say she was with her security team just outside the gates. The evidence is in the signs of a scuffle and the fact that they left one of them dead.” Emir said the words reluctantly, as if it had been his fault. “I can’t imagine how they got so close to the compound—how they got her—unless security was distracted. They were two of our best.” It wasn’t an excuse and he still couldn’t believe it had happened.
Zafir clenched his fist, his jaw tight. “She’s alive?” And while it sounded like a question, they all knew it was really a command or, more accurately, a demand that she was alive or there would be hell to pay.
“As far as I know,” Emir said, his voice devoid of emotion. He glared at Zafir for flirting with the reality he hadn’t dared consider—that Tara was hurt, or worse. “She was taken just outside the grounds.”
“She dodged her security?” Talib repeated as if not believing the possibility. “She knew the risks. She...” His voice broke and he turned away.
“When we find her, she’ll be grounded for the rest of her life,” Zafir snarled as if anger at her would somehow ensure his sister’s safety.
“She’s twenty years old,” Emir reminded him. The words came almost by rote, meaningless considering the scope of what had happened. But sometimes it was difficult to remember that his sister was officially an adult. He thought of her as his little sister in need of protection. And the fact that, physically, her petite size made her almost doll-like only accentuated those thoughts. But Tara’s personality was another story. It was as forward and brash as her physical being was delicate. Emir prayed that her larger-than-life personality and piercing intelligence that could challenge and often match him in many a game of chess would see her through.
“Her security tracked her, apparently found her immediately before the kidnapping,” Emir continued. “The kidnappers used knives. Ahmed lived...” he said, referring to one of the men assigned to Tara. He took a breath, as if that would put reason into the insanity they faced. “He’s in rough shape. It’s touch and go right now. He’s not able to give any information but when he is...”
“I’m on it.” Zafir’s jaw clenched as he said it and at the same time Talib’s open palm slammed against a vase that, at best guess, had been created over three centuries ago. The vase crashed to the floor and none of the brothers bothered to look as pieces flew across the room. Instead they stood poised like predatory animals, unmoving, contemplating the unfathomable.
Normally, Emir would have been all over Talib and his well-known temper for breaking the vase. He was the one who cared about the irreplaceable items that foretold a long and venerable heritage. But now, in a crappy and equally frightening situation, he knew Talib’s anger was more than justified.
He’d felt the helpless rage himself and, as much as he hated the emotions that had rolled through him in the minutes since he’d learned the incomprehensible truth, he couldn’t stop them. He’d been at the kidnappers’ mercy. And, without consultation with his siblings, he’d given in to their first demand in the hope of buying time and knowing what they asked was small enough to assure a second request, possibly even a third. That’s what he told himself. The truth was that he wasn’t sure what to expect or even what to do in this situation. The only thing he wanted to do was to kill the men who held his sister, if he only knew where or who they were. Kidnapping was neither his nor his brothers’ expertise.
“We’ll need guns and—”
“No,” Emir growled as he cut Talib off. He turned to Zafir. “I need you to take my phone. Not now,” he said as Zafir held out his hand. “Later. That’s how they’ll contact us.” Their voices were similar and, as identical twins, one could easily imitate the other. “When I get an idea of where they might have gone, I’m going after her—alone, at least without the two of you. All of us moving in a pack would alert the perps to what we’re doing. Therefore, we all can’t go. Someone—” he looked pointedly at Zafir “—has to be available for their demands. Let them believe we’re waiting, getting funds together—playing the game as they want.”
“There’s already been a request,” Zafir said quietly as he put a hand on Emir’s shoulder. It was not a question; as twins there were things each had always known about the other.
“It was small. There’ll be more,” Emir confirmed.
Although he was by no means a kidnapping expert, he knew the pattern with other kidnappings of strangers, people he had not known or loved—people who were not his sister. And, while they weren’t following the M.O. of an average kidnapper—sadly there was such a thing—he suspected they weren’t unique. He moved away, slipping from his twin’s abbreviated touch.
Zafir nodded. “And you’ve paid it.”
“You think that will get Tara back?” Anger was tight in Talib’s voice. He was a gifted member of their team but, of all of them, Talib had the least control over his emotions, especially now.
As always, his twin was on the same wavelength, he knew that as he saw the look of approval in Zafir’s eyes. He was the one who would most likely hold his emotions in check and who could make it look like Emir was doing exactly what the kidnappers wanted—waiting and complying.
“No. They’ll want more. But for now we look cooperative, and that’s good for Tara,” Zafir said.
“Hopefully we’ll have bought enough time to get some help,” Emir said.
Talib paced, his fists clenched and his jaw set. “We can’t do nothing,” he growled.
“Agreed.” Emir paused, considering the options. He met Zafir’s eyes. Although Zafir was younger by only minutes, there was never dissention because of birth order; they were usually in agreement. The slight tilt of Zafir’s head told him they were in agreement in this situation, as well. His gaze went to Talib—of the three of them, the one most likely to act impulsively, more likely to insist, as he already had, that they go at the kidnappers en masse with guns blazing. He didn’t blame him. They all felt the pain, the shock and the anger. For it was their baby sister they were talking about.
“For now, we act like nothing has happened,” Emir said.
“No.” Talib’s fist clenched and he brought it down on the desk, making a trio of pens jump. His eyes met Emir’s, passion blazing as his jaw clenched. His shoulder-length hair did not hide the strength in his jaw or the anger in his flashing brown eyes. “I’ll kill...”
“We’ll kill...” Zafir corrected. “When the time comes. First we get Tara home in the safest way possible. Too many of us would be an obvious and threatening action to the kidnappers, which will only endanger Tara. And that’s one thing we will not do.”
For it was not just them, Emir knew. There was their youngest brother, Faisal, whom he had yet to contact. He feared that Faisal would be on the first plane from Jackson, Wyoming, to Marrakech as soon as he heard. It was why he’d contacted their second-in-command at their Wyoming branch first, for Emir hadn’t thought of a way to forestall his brother once he was aware of the situation. “Faisal...” he began as if his thoughts and his voice were one.
“I’ll speak to Faisal.” Zafir cut him off. “There’s no need for him here. Not yet.”
Emir nodded. He worried that it might take both of them to keep Faisal in the States and not jumping on the first plane. He hoped Faisal’s common sense would do the job when he heard what was in place to ensure Tara’s safe return.
“I spoke to Adam,” Emir admitted. It was one of the first things he’d done when he’d received that devastating call just before 4:00 a.m.
Adam Whitman had been a good friend from his college days at Wyoming State and was now second-in-command in the Wyoming branch of their security agency. He was one of the few people outside the family Emir could trust. They had always had each other’s back, even though, through the years, there’d been long lapses where neither one had contacted the other.
“And?”