Page 20 of Steel Vengeance

Using the screen as a guide, she tracked the four men as they made their way to the waiting vehicles. She got a good look at their faces as they passed, barely two meters from her.

Their bodyguards opened the car doors, and the men slipped inside, disappearing from view. Turning the camera back toward the restaurant, she spotted Omari standing in the shadows. He didn’t come out. Zooming in on his face, she could see the smug expression. The meeting must’ve gone well.

Who were these guys? They looked like they’d crossed the border from Afghanistan, just like the ones she’d seen the other day. Could they be Taliban officials, like Omari? Were they planning something?

A chill ran through her, and she quickly stashed the phone. Maybe Stitch could fill in the blanks.

The vehicles sped off in a cloud of dust, kicking up pebbles as they went. Sloane stayed pressed against the wall, hidden behind the scarves.

Thank God. They were gone, and she was still alive. She was about to head back to Stitch when she heard a shout behind her.

“You! Stop!” The guard yelled in Urdu.

She froze.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Omari’s men had spotted her.

One of the guards stomped over, his heavy boots clomping on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?” he barked.

She stared at the ground, too scared to meet his eyes.

This was bad. Really bad. Time to play the helpless woman card.

He repeated the question.

“Shopping,” she whispered, motioning toward the scarves.

The guard eyed her suspiciously, then grabbed her arm. She gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened.

A deep voice behind her said, “There you are! Stupid woman.”

Stitch!

And he was speaking in Urdu. That was a surprise—and damn, he’d nailed the dialect.

The guard whipped around.

“My wife,” Stitch growled. “She’s always wandering off.” He grabbed her other arm, yanking her roughly toward him. The guard released her.

“Apologies,” Stitch muttered, giving a respectful half-bow.

The guard hesitated, looking like he wasn’t entirely sure if he should let her go. But after a moment, he gave a sharp nod and walked away.

Sloane exhaled shakily.

“Come on,” Stitch muttered under his breath. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Oh my God.” Sloane leaned against the wall as soon as they rounded the corner, out of sight. “That was close.”

“It was,” Stitch agreed, scanning the street before looking at her. “You okay?”

She took a few shaky breaths, trying to slow her racing heart, then nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you. I thought it was game over.”

“Did you get the shots?”

“Yes.”