then Hunter shut the door and rounded the hood. She recognized the driver as the redhead from yesterday who she’d mistakenly assumed was in charge. Another SUV drove in behind them as Hunter climbed into the front passenger seat.
He shut the door with a pop. “This is Gage,” he told her without glancing back. “Gage, Khalia. And the rest of the team is in the truck behind us.”
Gage reached back a hand, which she took automatically, and offered a warm smile. He had vivid bright blue eyes which crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and she couldn’t help but respond in kind. “Nice to meet you, Khalia.” His words had a southern drawl.
“Likewise.” Already she could see he was a lot friendlier than Hunter. She buckled her seatbelt, noting the tattoos that covered both his arms from wrist to the sleeves of his black T-shirt.
“Off to the first meeting?” Gage asked Hunter.
“Yep. Other team’s already en route.” He turned partially in his seat to look back at her. “Ray’ll meet you in the minister’s office.”
“Sure.”
Gage pulled away from the hotel and turned onto the main street. Islamabad’s business district was a bustling area of high rises and other corporate buildings, crowded and full of traffic. An entirely different world from the tribal region. The SUV’s engine purred as Gage merged onto the highway and picked up speed.
The men didn’t talk beyond the occasional comment or question about traffic or alternate routes. Khalia stayed quiet in the back but it felt weird to be driven around without speaking to the other people in the vehicle. Like she was a VIP being chauffeured across the city or something. Though she wanted to initiate conversation she resisted the urge, remembering Hunter’s warning. He’d made it clear they weren’t going to be friends, and it didn’t feel right to talk to Gage while ignoring him. Instead she used the time it took to reach the first meeting location to review her notes and talking points she’d laid out.
By the time they reached the Ministry of Education building, nerves were once again jumping in her belly. Hunter escorted her upstairs to the appointed office without a word. “I’ll be in the lobby when you’re done,” was all he said before leaving.
Khalia went into the meeting, relieved to have Ray there with her. The minister—a portly man somewhere in his fifties, dressed in a business suit—stood and shook their hands, then offered Khalia his condolences about her father while an appointed photographer took some shots of them. She put on a smile.
This one’s for you, Dad.
He’d be proud of her for doing this. Knowing that helped a lot and kept her centered. Even though he was gone forever, his approval still meant a lot to her. She could be brave for him, for his memory and legacy.
Together, she and Ray laid out the purpose for their trip, Fair Start’s intentions for the new girls’ school in the Swat Valley, and their belief that girls deserved the right to a quality education, no matter where they lived. Ray took his turn, carefully addressing concerns that the Pakistani government had outlined about working with Fair Start, doing his best to allay them.
Next, Khalia gave her presentation, gaining confidence with each point she raised. Hell, she’d come all the way to Pakistan in spite of everything, hadn’t she? She believed in what she was doing, enough to set aside her fears and leave her old life behind for this mission. They needed the Ministry’s blessing and funding for future operations in the country, and she intended to see that they got both.
When the balding minister smiled and agreed to support their cause, a ripple of goose bumps broke out beneath her light weight black sweater. They’d done it. Ray shot her a grin and reached over to squeeze her hand.
Forty minutes later Ray slung an arm across her shoulders on the way down to the lobby. “If your old man could see you now…” He gave her an