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Inside the other home, Kara’s phone chimed and she answered, “Yes?”
“This is Marshall,” Hail said. “We’ve put together a plan, but we won’t be able to reach your location for at least nine hours. Can you hang in there that long?”
That was a good question, Kara thought. Her answer was dependent upon Zain’s next move. If he hit her from all sides with the full brute force of his army contingent, the answer was Hell no! However, if she built up her defenses and staved off the first attack, the outlook would be less grim. At that point, it might turn into a siege rather than an attack. The problem was she had no one to spell her. There was no one to provide her respite for sleeping and eating. That didn’t take into account checking on the safety of the children. When she was no longer able to stay awake, they could just waltz in. She would then be at Zain’s mercy—based on these facts, she would be a goner.
“Marshall,” Kara said, sounding unsure of herself. “Kornev said there may be 400 men surrounding the home.”
“Yeah, that’s a lot. But we have enough ammo to take on a force of that size.”
Hail’s words offered her some comfort, but she knew Hail didn’t have previous experience taking on a force that size. She was sure his laboratory folks had crunched the numbers and calculated estimated flight times, power consumption, and all the other things she had witnessed during past missions, but that all meant zilch in this setting. This was David v. Goliath. As Hail once told her, the famous boxer, Michael Tyson, had said it all with his statement, “Everyone has a plan until you get punched in the face.”
“Don’t worry,” Hail told her. “We’re pretty sure this will work.”
“Pretty sure?” Kara repeated doubtfully, but who was she to question Marshall’s kindness? He was riding in on his white horse to rescue her. She had put herself into this predicament, and Marshall was offering to bail her out. Kara had no other recourse than to appreciate any assistance he could provide.
She ended up saying, “Thank you, Marshall. Anything you can do will be greatly appreciated. Just remember, there are children in the back room. Whatever you plan, you need to avoid ventilating the back bedroom.”
Hail assured her, “With any luck, all the ventilation will be done outside.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Neither Kara nor Marshall knew if this would be the last time they would speak to one another. They had left everything unresolved between them before she left. They had swum in the moonlight on one of Hail’s islands. Cautiously, they had not taken it beyond some tender moments, but Kara recalled how it felt to have Hail’s body pressed up against hers. It was unexpected, sudden, perhaps not fully appreciated.
During the last two years, their lives had been derailed. Neither of them had it together enough to put their lives back on track. How do you have a functional relationship when you have shut your heart down and not allowed yourself to fully embrace life, much less be fully present with someone? Kara had always known she would have to leave Hail. She’d planned to torture the information out of Kornev when their last mission ended and had successfully carried out that task. When she had left, there was no commitment she would return as a CIA asset or anything else. Kara still felt guilty, because Hail had suffered enough heartache for one lifetime. He certainly hadn’t needed more.
On the phone, there was nothing but dead air. Kara and Marshall didn’t quite know what to say. Choosing to end the uncomfortable silence, Kara said, “Again, thank you, Marshall. I’ll see you in about six hours, right?”
“That’s a date,” Hail promised, making Kara’s heart feel a little lighter. “Stay safe until we get there. Don’t do anything crazy.”
Kara laughed and thought, You mean like sneaking into Pakistan and kidnapping a terrorist’s kids to trade them for their father so she could put a hole though him? Like that type of crazy?
She ended up saying, “See you soon,” and hung up.
Six hours, just six hours, she thought to herself. She looked around the room at the amount of hardware she had hauled up from the tunnel. She surveyed the dozens of weapons and the thousands of rounds of ammo. Thirty bulletproof vests sat in a pile on the living room floor. At her disposal she had everything a determined young woman needed to hold off an army of pissed-off Pakistanis.
She formulated a plan and stood. It was time to get busy because she didn’t know if she had the six hours remaining before daylight to prep the house before the full-on assault she anticipated would occur.