Next to Mahmoud, a second man stood up from where hed been squatting by the edge of the pool. Yousef Kamali. Mahmouds second-in-command and also a glossy photo on her teams personal Most Wanted wall.
She wove through the throng of people to the spot where Mahmoud and Yousef had been standing and turned in a slow three-sixty.
No sign of the two men.
She had to be wrong. No way could known terrorists gain access to the Olympic Village. Not unless the Iranian government had given them credentials that attached them to the Iranian Olympic team...
Nah. The Iranians wouldnt be so brazen.
She spied two males wearing black tracksuits with green-white-red stripes down the arms and legs. Iran team uniforms. She swore under her breath.
The pair was moving away from the pool area quickly. Purposefully.
Frowning, she debated whether to leave her post and follow them. It wasnt like the softball girls were leaving this party anytime soon. But she was responsible for their safety, which technically included apprehending terrorists.
The Iranians approached a streetlight with its pole-mounted surveillance camera and, as she looked on, both men simultaneously turned their faces to the right.
Away from the camera.
SonofaThat was the deliberate act of someone who didnt want to be identified. The act of a trained operative. Or a terrorist.
She took off running, but the two men were well ahead of her, and more athletes were streaming toward the pool. She dodged and weaved, doing the whole fish swimming upstream thing, desperately trying to keep the Iranians in sight. But she was only five foot four, and it was darned near impossible to see over the glamorous amazons that were most Olympic athletes.
Finally, she broke out of the worst of the crush and glimpsed her quarry passing through one of the checkpoints to leave the Olympic Village. She put on a burst of speed as they scanned their credentials and stepped onto a city street.
She flew through the checkpoint without bothering to scan herself out. She couldnt lose the Iranians! Once they hit the giant street party outside the village, following them was going to get immeasurably harder. She had to close as much of the gap as she could before they lost themselves in the crowds. Sydney was in full celebration mode, and this part of the city had been completely shut down to allow foot traffic to fill the streets.
Rebel raced through crowds of revelers, but the Iranians picked up speed in front of her, and she stretched out into a full sprint. The men turned a corner and disappeared.
When she approached the intersection, she slowed, turning the corner fast and low. It turned out to be a relatively quiet, dark street lined with closed office buildings. And it was empty. She raced down it, searching side to side for the Iranians. Nothing. She burst out into another crowded thoroughfare.
Where did they go?
There. To her left. She gathered herself to take off running again just as the men disappeared into a building ahead.
Without warning, big, hard hands grabbed her by both arms, dragging her back into the dark street shed just emerged from. She stumbled backward, fetching up hard against a building. Immediately, she was flattened against it by a living wall of muscle.
Chagrin roared through her. Shed gotten so focused on chasing her quarry in front of her that shed forgotten to watch her own tail. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew better.
Let go of me, she ground out. The terrorists were getting away!
Who are you? a male voice rasped from over her head.
The person whos going to hurt you if you dont let me go. Right. Now.
Little thing like you? Humor laced her battering rams voice.
No help for it. She was about to be conspicuous.
* * *
Avi Bronson yelped as the fleeing suspect, a tiny, shockingly quick female, stomped painfully on the top of his left foot. He swore when she grabbed his thumb off her shoulder and gave it a vicious wrench.
Damn, woman! Youve practically dislocated my thumb.
A normal man would step back from the tiny virago now throwing painful elbows at him, kneeing him dangerously close to his groin and scratching at his face. But he was a trained Special Forces soldier, and the last thing he dared do was let this woman get an arms length between them where she could really wind up with a fist or foot and actually damage him.
He leaned in against her, using his superior size and weight to mash her even flatter against the wall at her back, silently thanking his wool suit coat for absorbing the worst of her attack.
She went still abruptly.
Are you done? he asked cautiously.
Yes. Her tone was surly. Not even close to subdued.
If I step back from you, will you stop attacking me? he tried.
Too long a pause. Then, Yes.
Liar.
He jumped back all at once, throwing up his fists to defend himself. And just in the nick of time. She flew at him like an angry bird.
But then she surprised him by spinning away and taking off at a dead run down the street. Genuinely irritated now, he gave chase.
Crap, she was fast.
Of course, she had the advantage over him in weaving through the heavy crowd, being as small as she was. He struggled to keep sight of her as she dodged among the civilians ahead of him.
Then she did a weird thing,
She came to a dead stop in front of a giant discotheque, staring at it in what could only be utter disgust.
Avi screeched to a stop beside her. Maam, Im going to have to ask you to come with me
Oh, save it, she muttered, yanking out a set of Olympic credentials from inside her jacket. The holographic ID card hanging from a lanyard around her neck and declaring her to be from the American delegation, certainly looked authentic.
Nonetheless. I need you to come with me, he repeated.
She finally turned her full attention on him, and he was taken aback by her giant blue eyes, glaring at him as indignantly as if hed kicked her puppy. Who are you? she demanded.
Olympic security, he said shortly.
I showed you my credentials. Lets see yours, she challenged.
Not here, he muttered. A lifetime of being reviled and targeted for being Israeli had taught him to be deeply reticent about announcing his nationality in crowded, public settings. Not to mention, he was not about to air Olympic security business on a street full of half-drunk spectators.
Why wont you show me your credentials? the woman demanded.
Just come with me, will you?
I cant. I need to get surveillance video from inside this club.
I can get you the footage faster than anyone in there can if youll come with me. He said the last few words through gritted teeth. This woman was really starting to get under his skin. She was blithely ignoring him as if she didnt give a flip for being stopped by Olympic security.
Fine, she declared. There are at least four exits from this place to three different streets, and thanks to you, I have no way of knowing which direction the men I was following went. Ive lost them.
Lost who?
She blinked, as if abruptly becoming aware of being closely surrounded by dozens of Olympic guests. Uhh, nobody I care to talk about out here in the open.
She blinked, as if abruptly becoming aware of being closely surrounded by dozens of Olympic guests. Uhh, nobody I care to talk about out here in the open.
Hence my request that you come with me. He emphasized the word request to make it perfectly clear that this was, in fact, not a request at all.
The woman took several quick strides away from him, back toward the Olympic Village and then had the gall to stop and look over her shoulder at him. Are you coming or not, He-Man?
He lurched into movement, not sure whether to be amused or fantasize about strangling her. He fell in beside her, matching his long stride to her shorter one. Are you always this touchy? he murmured.
You havent seen anything, yet. Were in public and I have to behave myself.
Good Lord.
Oh, praying wont save you from me.
He glanced down at her in something approaching shock and she continued, smiling sweetly all the while, When we get back to the village, Im going to give you a piece of my mind...and chew off a chunk of your hide while Im at it.
Amused. He was definitely amused. A grin crept across his features. She reminded him of a little angry sparrowher feathers all puffed up and flapping her wings furiously at the big bad hawk. She looked ready at any second to fly at his head and peck at him.
Youre cute when youre mad, he murmured as he took her by the elbow to guide her through a particularly thick cluster of drunks spilling out of a bar into the street.
Her biceps flexed under his fingers and he noted that her arm was rock hard within his grasp. She definitely worked out. But then, the Olympics drew the fittest people on Earth into one place.
Leaning in close to her and using his big body as a shield, he protected her from jostles and errant hands as they passed through a group of loudly singing young men wearing Irish national soccer team paraphernalia. One of them, carrying a brimming full pitcher of beer in each hand stumbled, and Avi spun in front of the woman, taking a hefty slosh of beer down his back for his trouble.
While the drunk mumbled a slurred apology, Avi merely rolled his eyes and ushered the woman onward. Cold, sticky wetness made his shirt cling to his back as the beer soaked through his suit.
Thanks, she muttered reluctantly.
Youre welcome.
There was a bit of a delay getting her scanned into the village since she hadnt scanned out properly when she left, but the guard sorted it out quickly enough when Avi flashed his own senior security credentials.
I have to make a phone call, she announced, stopping just inside the fenced enclosure surrounding the large campus of dormitories, dining halls, workout facilities and delegation headquarters. Sighing in frustration at yet another delay, he nonetheless stopped and waited while she pulled out her cell phone.
He listened with interest as she said, Tessa, its me. I need one of you to head over to the north village pool and take over babysitting the womens softball team. Ive got another situation to sort out right now. A pause, then, Ill tell you about it when I get back to Ops. Speaking of which, could you call Major T. and have him meet me at the ops center ASAP?
Avi heard an exclamation that sounded like surprise from the person on the other end of the call.
The woman snorted. Then, Hes never off duty. He eats, sleeps and breathes the job. And I seriously have to speak with him. We have a potential situation.
Spoken like a true security operator. Avi frowned. Who was this woman?
She was speaking again. ...join us after you fish the womens softball team out of the pool and tuck them back in their rooms. She added, Oh, and their clothing is in a pile at the northwest corner of the pool. Yes. All of their clothing. Its an orgy over there. Thanks. Bye.
She pocketed her phone and glared up at him. Lets make this fast. I have someplace to be.
He crossed his arms and smirked down at her. All right. Lets try this again. Who are you?
This is still far too public an environment for me to answer that. And Im certainly not telling you anything without you showing me proper identification.
Fair enough. Come with me. He turned and headed toward the Israeli security operations center. Returning the favor from earlier, he glanced back over his shoulder and asked wryly, Are you coming, She-Woman?
The woman lurched into motion, scowling. Smiling a little to himself, he led her to his delegations headquarters.
The atmosphere was all business inside the Israeli security operations center. Ever since Munich almost fifty years ago, the Israelis operated on the assumption that their athletes were active terror targets. And it was up to the men and women in this room to protect those athletesthe finest flowers of Israels youth.
He didnt stop in the main area crammed with desks, video monitors, computers and mostly big, capable men. Spying an empty office, he stepped inside, turned on the light and waited for his prisoner to join him. Not that he would call her that to her face. His ribs and foot still ached from her initial assault. She might be tiny, but she had sharp elbows and knew how to use them.
In the bright light of the office, he got a good look at her face. She had smooth, soft-looking skin, regular features that grew more pretty the longer he looked at them, and those big, blue eyes of hers. They were her best feature, for sure. Her hair was a soft chocolate brown shot through with strands of gold, like she spent a fair bit of time outside. He already knew she was stronger than her small stature suggested.
She pulled out her credentials again and this time he did the same. Silently, they exchanged badges.
Rebel McQueen, he read aloud. Thats an unusual name. Did your mother dislike you?
No. She was a fanatical Steve McQueen fan. He was an actor
I know who he was. The Great Escape is one of my favorite movies.
She mused, Allied prisoners break out of Nazi prison camp. I could see why that movie would be popular in Israel. The woman continued, Anyway, McQueens nickname was the American Rebel.
He commented sympathetically, You must have to explain that a lot.
You have no idea. She rolled her eyes, and they traded brief smiles of commiseration.
She glanced down at his identification. Avi Bronson. Israeli Defense Forces? Mossad?
Sayerat Matkal, he replied. Not that she would have any idea what that was. Which was the point. His team didnt advertise their existence, let alone their presence at a venue as public as the Summer Olympics.
Unit 269? she blurted.
You know who we are? he blurted back, shocked that shed heard of his special operations unit. It wasnt the sort of thing most civilians knew about.
Yes, she replied impatiently. You guys are the primary hostage rescue unit for the Israeli Defense Forces. Id have thought most of you security types here would be Mistaarvimcounterterrorism units.
He shrugged. I did a stint with them a few years back. I also rolled with Shayetet 13 early in my career.
The Navy SEAL equivalent, huh? Well, arent you the overachiever?
He frowned down at her Okay, so you know more about Israeli Special Forces units than the average bear. How is that?