Free Targeted (FBI Heat) by Marissa Garner

the edge of the veil. Suddenly, she wanted these horrible men to see the determination in the eyes of their new leader. A woman. How awful for them. Except for the two elves, the others had seen her face before. But now they all knew they would have to bow to her will, to follow her orders. She yanked the cloth up over her head and removed the entire headpiece. Her long hair fell across her shoulders. She brushed it aside, straightened, and raised her chin. Her eyes flashed from man to man, as she enjoyed the sight of them gaping at her, dreading her power over them, and perhaps, even fearing her. Men, such weak men . It will be a joy to destroy them all.
    For the first time in two weeks, she felt empowered.
    Her gaze returned to the tall elf, Khaleel, who stared along with the rest. Thankfully, he couldn’t recognize her. When Ameen had ushered her through his friends’ living room last night, she’d been completely covered by the abaya and niqab , and she’d never spoken.
    “You will begin assembling the bomb tonight,” she said.
    “But—”
    With a dismissive gesture, she interrupted. “No excuses. Tonight, you start.” Then she turned to Fateen. “We need the spare key to Samir’s truck.”
    “It is at the apartment.”
    “Good. Saleem and Rashad will stay here to guard the house. Our friends, Khaleel and Nadeem, will buy the hardware necessary to secure the back door and fix it. You and Masoud will drive me back to San Diego in your car and then return with Samir’s key. From now on, I will use Samir’s truck.”
    “You can drive?” Saleem asked.
    “Of course. Do you think Husaam would have sent me if I was not qualified?”
    Saleem shrank from her icy glare. “No, Baheera.”
    Her commanding gaze swept around the group. “Any more questions?”
    “What about Samir and Omar?” Rashad whined.
    “What about them?” she practically sneered.
    “Aren’t we going to look for them…or their bodies? They should have a proper Muslim burial. If we call their cell phones, perhaps we can hear the ringing and locate them that way.”
    “Do not be stupid, Rashad. The Mexican thieves would have stripped them of all valuables by now. Their cell phones could be anywhere.” She glared at the terrorists, lifting her chin again. “Samir and Omar were fools. They left me alone to guard everything while they risked our entire mission to chase some common thieves. They are Allah’s problem now, not mine.” She grabbed her purse and stood. “We must work harder now to please Allah…and Husaam.”
    The men scooted out of the way as she passed through the group. They glanced nervously at each other, but said nothing. Fateen and Masoud scrambled to follow her out the front door to the car. Marissa chose the front passenger seat, delegating Masoud to the back. His scowl revealed he was not pleased.
    They drove away from the house in a cloud of dust. Marissa caught a glimpse of a white truck driving parallel to them in the alley behind the buildings. If the situation weren’t so serious, she might have smiled.
    Fateen maneuvered the small car through the dirty, narrow streets of the slum. After a few miles, he turned onto a larger street with traffic, and they cruised through Tijuana. Finally, the car joined the long lines of vehicles waiting at the San Ysidro border crossing to get into the US.
    Marissa didn’t dare turn around and look, but she didn’t really have to. She had felt the connection being fused. She knew Ameen was behind them, somewhere, watching over her.
    *  *  *
    As soon as he burst out the hideout’s back door, leaving Baheera to face the terrorists alone as she’d requested, Ameen skirted around the house to spy on the terrorists as they emerged from the car. Only four, not all six, had come to check on their truant comrades. He could take four, no problem. His hand went to his gun before he could stop himself.
    But then, he did stop, released his grip on the weapon. His gut tightened as