Free Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4) by Sidney Bristol

were desirable.
    “What do you think our chances of getting some of that are?” Luke jerked his head toward the small galley kitchen, where the head chef was whipping up something that smelled amazing.
    “Not very likely.”
    “Damn.” Luke shook his head.
    Abigail watched the guests assemble around the table. Ethan stood behind Mrs. Smith, her chair in hand.
    This was Abigail’s opportunity. The Smiths had their backs to the suite. She should be able to get to her room and sneak the explosives into the master. But first, Luke needed something to do that wasn’t anywhere near her. When this happened, she wanted both men to be—without question—innocent. If the authorities were going to blame someone, it needed to be her.
    “I’m going to the bathroom.” She looked up at his dark eyes, so trusting and open. This was the hardest part about covert work. Fooling those around her into believing the lies she had to spoon feed them. What would he think if he knew the truth? He’d probably hate her on principle.
    “I can hold down the fort.” He gave her a little salute.
    She chuckled. As much as she wanted to keep him to herself, embrace her greediness, when this was over, she’d never see him again. People around her died, and Luke? She wanted him to live. He’d seen the horrors of the world and war, and still he smiled. A man like that was a gift.
    Abigail strode toward her room.
    She heard it first.
    The click. An almost unidentifiable sound. Except Abigail had heard it a thousand times. Even in a crowded room, she’d know that sound.
    She caught sight of a burst of light, part of the detonator sparking out of the corner of her eye, then—chaos.
    The concussion wave hit her as the booming of the bomb robbed her of her hearing, and even with the split second warning, she was caught as unprepared as the others.
    She sailed through the air. The last thing she saw was the ornate carpet before everything went dark.
     

 
    6.
    Hassan cracked his eyes open, staring at the ugly patterned hall carpet. His ears rang. His body pulsed with the feel of the concussion blast. Yeah, that last pound of C4 had probably been a bad idea, but he’d wanted to be sure it got the job done.
    Fuck, that hurt.
    He hadn’t gotten clear of the blast in time.
    He pushed to his feet, his head still spinning, ears ringing, and glanced over his shoulder. The suite doors were blown off their hinges, and smoke billowed into the hall. His hearing was still sketchy, but he didn’t see any movement.
    Any second now, Omar would race up the stairs with the Jordanian police at his back, ready to make an arrest. Hassan had made sure to give them just enough information that they’d be in the area when the blast happened.
    He shook his head and stumbled down the hall.
    It was time to stop being Hassan.
    He made it to his room, swiped the card and stepped into the suite. He stripped the uniform off and tossed it into a trash bag near the door. A quick rinse in the shower dislodged the worst of the debris and dust, plus it loosened the spirit gum holding the wing in place. For the first time in days, he pried the too-shaggy head of hair off his scalp and threw it in the general vicinity of the garbage.
    The whole room needed to be turned over before he could extract himself, but if he were lucky, he could melt into the crowds in the mass exodus that was about to happen.
    He towel-dried and hurriedly dressed in the expensive suit, cramming the rings onto his fingers, and bagging up what he needed to dispose of, what he was keeping and the rest could stay.
    All in all, fifteen minutes later—he was no longer Hassan.
    Knock. Knock. Knock.
    “Mr. Refai?”
    He flexed his neck, twisting it a bit until it popped. Ah, that was it.
    He was too old for this kind of work, which was why going into business for himself was the way to go.
    He crossed to the door and opened it, blinking at the hotel security.
    “What the hell is going on?” He frowned and