19 Headed for Trouble by Suzanne Brockmann Page A

was sleeping. He lowered his voice, but it came out no less intense. “I don’t want
sorry
. I want the information that you’ve—”
    “We don’t
have
any information,” Jules raised hisvoice to talk over him. “All we have is speculation. Rumors. You know as well as I do what good that—”
    “What are the rumors?” Sam asked.
    “Sam,” Jules said. “You
know
rumors are just—”
    “Did the second helo go down, too?” Sam had to know.
    “No,” Jules said, but then added, “Not exactly. What we think happened, and sweetie, breathe. This is mostly guesswork. Even though we have a few people who claim to be eyewitnesses, we have only their word that they were actually there. So yeah, they reported that after the first chopper crashed, the second swung back around to assist the survivors. According to these unreliable sources, it apparently landed, going out of view, behind several buildings. Then, allegedly, there was a second big explosion.”
    “And?” Sam asked tightly.
    “And nothing,” Jules said. “It’s all speculation. You know as well as I do that this could be nothing more than one of the local warlords planting disinformation—”
    “There was an
and
in your voice,” Sam insisted. “God damn it, Jules, tell me all of it.”
    Jules exhaled hard. “The attack happened shortly before sunset. There’ve been unconfirmed reports of a fierce firefight in that area pretty much all night.”
    Sam was going to be sick. “So, best-case scenario is that my wife is on the ground in a hostile part of Kaz-fucking-bekistan, engaged in a gun battle with people who don’t just want to kill her for being American, but who want to kill her slowly, on camera, broadcast over the Internet.”
    Worst case was that Alyssa was already dead—that she had been dead for hours.
    “Who’s going in after them?” Sam demanded.
    “I don’t know,” Jules said. “Look, I’m going to makesome phone calls, see what I can find out, okay? It may take me a while.”
    “Jules,” Sam started, but he didn’t have to say it. Jules said it for him.
    “I’ll call you back as soon as I hear anything. Good news
or
bad.”
    “Thanks.” As Sam hung up the phone, the news anchor made a joke about a pop star who was getting married. It was absolutely surreal.
    How could anyone laugh when Alyssa might be dead?
    He turned off the TV, but then turned it back on, flipping to the other news stations and then back, hoping for something, anything that would let him see just what Alyssa was up against.
    If there were any way to survive this, Lys would find it. Of that Sam had absolutely no doubt. She was strong, she was skilled, and she had the heart of a warrior.
    But if her team was badly outnumbered by their attackers, if it was a handful against several hundred, they would soon be overpowered. And all of the skill, strength, and heart in the world wouldn’t keep her alive.

    Sam splashed water on his face, then dried it with his towel. It was one of the blue ones that he and Alyssa had picked out when they’d moved into this little house together, a few weeks before their wedding.
    “Blue is all about serenity and tranquility,” she’d told him as they stood in the department store, when he’d suggested they get brown because it would hide the dirt and stains.
    But she was serious, which had surprised him. And as they’d decorated their house she’d paid a lot of attention, for someone so down to earth and practical, to the mood created by color, as well as to something calledfeng shui. Which was all about furniture placement and good vibes and all kinds of touchy-feelie New Age voodoo.
    Of course, maybe there was something to that feng shui crap, because Sam had never been happier and more at peace in his entire life than he had this past year, living here.
    Then again, he’d be beyond ecstatic living in a cardboard box, as long as Alyssa was with him.
    Please, God, keep her safe.
    Sam took a deep breath, then