Page 50 of High Treason
Kord wasn’t exaggerating. The severity of what Saudi Arabia could do in the name of revenge paved the way to massive unrest across the Middle East. “We’re fools not to explore how many people are involved. At this point we have an assassin and a hacker or mole. If the motive is to crush the Saud family and cause it to implode for a new regime, we’re looking at an architectural blueprint for multiple disasters.”
He studied her. Was he mulling over her words or developing his own strategy?
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“The assassin has tried twice and failed. Means taking more chances.” Kord shook his head.
She warmed as frustration poured into her blood. “With all of modern technology, there has to be a way to detect a virus on his phone without alerting the killer.”
“Do you want to underestimate the virus’s ability?”
“Not at all.”
“Prince Omar believes his goals are worth any sacrifice.”
“The lives of loved ones?” she said. “His pride is worth watching more deaths? Another tragedy where the US will be held responsible? The conservatives are blaming us for Zain.”
“I know, Monica. We need intel and evidence now.”
Long after midnight, Monica wrestled with data, faces, and names. The enemies anticipated a payoff of some kind. Who foughtalongside them in the US? None of these terrorists worked alone. Ultimately the motive wove greed into the mix. It always did.
She stared at the ceiling while sleep evaded her. A click sounded. Tossing back the blanket, she grabbed her weapon and crept to her bedroom door. In the common area, her eyes adjusted to the dark, but nothing seized her attention.
Her imagination?
Doubtful.
The door to the hallway wasn’t open, so the sound had likely come from one of the princesses’ bedrooms. Monica made her way to Fatima’s room. She gently tried the knob. Locked. She crept to Yasmine’s door. The knob turned easily. An empty bed. Where was she going this time of night? And alone?
She rushed back to the common area windows and peered out over the grounds. Prince Omar’s bodyguards walked the perimeter of the property. She shoved patience into her stance. A shadowed figure stole across the area. Then movement in the oak trees captured her attention. She hurried to her bedroom and snatched her night vision goggles from her shoulder bag. Moments later, she once again observed the treed area, where she and Kord had met earlier. Two people stood within the oaks. Together. A man and woman in a definite embrace.
Where were Yasmine’s brains? Who had persuaded her into meeting a man in secret?
She stuck her weapon inside her back waistband and grabbed a jacket on the way out. Down the stairs and around to the rear of the house. Once outside, she walked toward the pair hiding in the trees. Monica paused to observe the two.
“When, Malik?” Yasmine whispered.
“Soon. Your brother has business here and can’t be interrupted.”
“I love you.”
“And I long to make you my wife.”
Monica entered into their tryst. “Does Prince Omar approve of this meeting?”
Malik turned to her. “This is none of your business.”
“When a killer is on the loose, yes.” She pulled her phone from her pocket.
“Miss Alden, we can talk,” he said. “Yasmine and I are speaking of our future.”
“Shouldn’t your first discussion be with her brother or father?”
“Please, Miss Alden.” Yasmine’s voice quivered.
Monica despised the use of strong-arm tactics on a seventeen-year-old. “You and I will go back to the house together.”
“The prince will never believe you,” Malik said. “You’re nothing but Kord’s servant.”
