Escape to Morning by Susan May Warren Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes that seemed both brown and gold.
    She stared at him, wondering at his involvement in Hayata. She’d seen Asians in their sotnya a few times, but even they had dark hair, dark almond-shaped eyes. This man seemed so white—she’d never seen anyone with skin so pale. And he had three earrings and a stud in his nose. She’d never seen a man with an earring, let alone face piercings. He’d shed his leather jacket and wore a black T-shirt with metallic letters printed on the front. A barbed-wire tattoo on his upper arm peeked from his shirtsleeve.
    â€œWe speak English in America, and you will too,” he snarled without looking at her.
    She nodded. Hopefully her years of English wouldn’t become a tangled mess in her drying mouth. “Yes, sir.”
    On the other side of her was a man from her own country, with darker skin, darker hair, and wary eyes. He sighed and leaned against the window. “We’ll be there soon. Remember, when we cross the border, you’re my sister. We live as Americans. Keep your mouth shut.”
    Fadima nodded again, unable to speak past the lump of fear forming in her throat. America.
    Amina .

    Will sat on a boulder overlooking Lake Superior, his cell phone to his ear. He listened to it ring, gave a verbal code, and waited while he was connected to Jeff Anderson, his handler.
    â€œWhat’s up, Will?” Jeff had a calm voice, all business, but without the edge that Will had become accustomed to in the Green Berets. At first he’d wondered if it made Jeff soft, but in the end he decided it made him likable. Lew had also had a calm voice. It had kept the rest of his team sane in a chaotic world.
    Will needed sanity tonight. “Simon is dead. Hayata must have made him.”
    Jeff stayed momentarily silent, then sighed. “Sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
    Translation: Were you made? Or will you end up facedown in the woods before the week’s end? “I don’t know. I was ambushed before our meet, as if they wanted me out of the way. But maybe they thought he was passing information to the local paper, not to the CIA.” Will braced his elbow on his knee, feeling anew the bruises he’d accumulated. Even worse was the mangy-cur feeling of shame over the way he’d treated Dani. “I want to head up to the farm, take a look-see.”
    â€œNo. We know Hayata’s up to something, and the feeling around here is that they’ll make a move … soon. Sit tight. Keep things business as usual. Go to work tomorrow. Put your ear to the ground. Talk to that girl—Sally—and find out who’s been across the border lately. We’ll wait until we hear from our other Hayata-embedded operatives.”
    Will said nothing, afraid that anger might lace his tone. Sit tight? Yeah, right. Perhaps, if he was real lucky, Hayata would make his death quick and painless instead of the boot beating he’d gotten the first time around.
    â€œSimon hinted that they were planning something. He sent me a text message before he died,” Will said. “One word— amina .”
    â€œ Amina . What is that?”
    â€œIt sounds like an Arabic word. Or maybe Turkish. I think I remember that from when I was stationed at Incirlik. Except what does it have to do with Simon?”
    He could picture Jeff rubbing his temples, where his wispy brown hair was starting to recede. “I’ll get analysis on it.”
    â€œThanks, Jeff.” Will clicked off and closed the cell phone, fighting the residue of frustration.
    Lake Superior waves threw themselves onshore, the tail end of fury after today’s rainstorm. Lights from Moose Bend twinkled against the pane of night, and the redolence of spring ladened the air. Will breathed deeply, suddenly missing the smell of prairie grass, the low of cattle as they roamed wide fields. How many times had he sprawled under the sky with Lew, hands behind their heads, dreaming