The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(81)

“Gun!” She lunged forward.

The soldier raised his pistol.

She sidestepped him, her fingers burrowing into his hand, nails hooked into his flesh. She twisted hard. The pistol clattered to the floor.

Before he could recover, she brought her hand down like a blade on his biceps. A loud snap. He screamed. She kicked his legs out from under him, knocking him to his knees.

The prime minister’s bodyguards pounced on the soldier, cuffing him. She kept his gun at her side. Over a hundred pairs of eyes locked on her, the room suddenly silent. She turned to the prime minister, who looked shell shocked.

“We need to get you somewhere safe, sir.”

Prime Minister Kimweri banged the gavel, ending the session. Chaos reigned as everyone charged out of the room. Thea grabbed her bag from the table, looped it around her torso, and ran toward Kimweri. She looked for the general, but he had vanished during the commotion. Strange. Why would the man in charge of protecting the prime minister disappear?

Movement outside the window caught her attention. Men dressed in fatigues swarmed the gardens. A volley of shots echoed in the courtyard.

The prime minister’s bodyguards rushed to close the conference room’s doors. Remembering the floor plans of the hotel, Thea guided Kimweri to the rear door, which led downstairs to the boiler room. She needed to get him to a safe location.





Chapter Sixty



Gabrielle slipped out of the conference room before Prime Minister Kimweri’s bodyguards blocked the doors. Shots had been fired outside, and she needed to figure out what the hell was going on. But first she needed to procure the weapons in her room.

She scrambled up the rear staircase and sprinted to her suite, opening the door. After she punched in the safe’s combination, the metal door opened with a long beep. Seconds later, her SIG Sauer was loaded and ready for action. She grabbed extra magazines and shoved them into her pockets. Opening her hard-case luggage, she quickly assembled the M24, slinging the strap around her shoulder, slipping the parabolic microphone, first-aid kit, and other items that her CIA contact had given her into her messenger bag.

A knock on Max’s door. No answer.

She skirted the window to avoid becoming a potential target, then lifted the drape so she could survey the front yard. Soldiers surrounded the hotel, Kalashnikovs in their hands. A hulking figure commanded the men. General Ita Jemwa. As if things weren’t crazy enough with Ares in the vicinity and Christos Paris kidnapped. Now what, a coup? She grabbed her cell and speed-dialed.

Stephen Kelly answered on the first ring. “What’s the latest?”

“There’s a bit of a complication. Looks like General Ita Jemwa is attempting a coup.”

“That fascist. No way can we let him take over Kanzi. I’ll mobilize some assistance. Take whatever steps necessary to keep the prime minister alive. Understood?”

“Absolutely. Last I saw, Thea Paris was protecting Kimweri.”

“Roger that. Check in with me regularly.”

She ended the call and tried texting Thea: Where are you? Is the PM with you?

Another quick knock on Max’s door. Nothing. She tried calling him. Straight to voice mail. In the middle of a coup, it’d be helpful to have another trained officer by her side. Especially a friend.

Gunfire echoed through the courtyard again. The prime minister’s bodyguards were going head-to-head with the rebels. No answer from either Thea or Max. When Gabrielle saw Thea last, the kidnap negotiator had been heading for the cellar stairs. Probably no reception there. Better make her way down, see if she could help.

She cracked open the door and peered into the hall. So far, so good. A rush of adrenaline and cortisol kicked her body into gear. She loved working in the field and hadn’t had a taste of it in far too long.

She hurried down the corridor, stopping to check for sounds of movement. Nothing on this floor. The chaos outside had probably convinced any guests to remain hidden in their rooms.

A soft bing caught her attention. The elevator. Someone was coming up. She flattened herself in an alcove by the stairs and waited, hoping it would be Max.





Chapter Sixty-One



Thea shepherded the prime minister down the uneven stone steps that led to the cellar. “Stay behind me. We need to keep you safe.”

A sound. Someone was already down there. She held her index finger to her lips and signaled for the prime minister to wait. She descended the stairs, careful not to make any noise.

At the bottom of the steps, she inched forward to see who was there. Could be a maintenance worker from the hotel, a guest hiding, or one of the rebels. She grabbed a plastic yellow Wet Floor sign and held it out beyond the wall.

Two shots punctured it.

She had her answer.

Pulling the sign back behind the wall, she crouched down and waited a few seconds. Then she tossed the plastic yellow sign at waist height into the air and rolled out on the ground. The soldier shot at the sign. She fired from her prone position. Two shots, and he collapsed on the floor. A quick kick removed the AK from his reach. She scooped up the assault rifle and surveyed the hallway for other threats, but only silence greeted her. It looked as if the man had been alone.

She pounded back to the stairs. “Okay, it’s safe now, Mr. Prime Minister. Let’s go.”

“Call me Mamadou. You’ve saved my life twice in the last half hour, so I think we should be on a first-name basis.” He gave her a tentative smile.