No Rules by Starr Ambrose Page B

asked, dreading the answer because then they would be real. Real people, depending on her for the information that could save their lives.
    “You don’t need to worry about that part, Jess.”
    “I need to know.”
    He studied her several seconds before deciding. “Two members of an archeological team in Luxor. Grad students, a man and a woman.”
    She hadn’t known what to expect. Maybe journalists. Or aid workers or missionaries—those people often went wherever they saw a need, regardless of risk. They were do-gooders who went into war-torn areas and hotbeds of extremism if they thought they could help innocent people, and the Middle East had plenty of those at the moment. But archeology students? In Luxor, Egypt, where the ancient tombs of pharaohs drew archeologists from around the world?
    “Egypt has a good relationship with foreign universities. They’d never allow terrorists to threaten that.”
    “They didn’t allow it, Jess. Terrorists don’t ask permission. I’m sure the Ministry of State for Antiquities is as upset as anyone.”
    The chaos of it and the lack of logic added to her distress. “It makes no sense to kidnap students. Universities can’t afford to pay ransom fees.”
    His mouth twitched at the corner as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “No one has asked for a ransom.”
    She didn’t have to be told how bad that was, not after her father’s experience. If they didn’t want something in exchange for the hostages, their lives were in extreme danger. Desperate for any other explanation, she asked, “And you’re sure they were kidnapped and didn’t just get lost in the desert or something?”
    “Evan does the background checks, and he’s sure. Also, Omega’s help doesn’t come cheap. If they asked for it, believe me, it’s because they have no other recourse. All you need to worry about is what Wally told you.”
    She racked her brain for anything her father might have said during their dinner about Luxor or Egypt, and came up blank. There hadn’t even been a reference to Middle Eastern cuisine or hot, arid climates. Just that damn story about animals going to a housewarming party.
    “Come on.” He opened his door, letting cold air swirl into the car. The full force of winter hadn’t hit Chicago yet, but the sting of moisture in the air told her snow was coming soon. She stepped out, ducking her head against the wind that blew through the high-roofed portico. Donovan waited for her, more solicitous now, but still impatient. She knew he’d pluck the information straight from her brain if he could, and it was killing him that he had to depend on her memory to get it.
    “I’ll introduce you to the team,” he said, guiding her with a light touch on her arm. Kind but purposeful. “Then we’ll go over everything you remember. Everything , Jess. In detail.”
    “Tonight?”
    “Yes, tonight. Everyone is waiting for you inside. There are two hostages who might not have time to wait while you sleep.”
    She sighed, wishing she’d had more than a brief nap on the plane. It looked to be a long night. “Can I at least get something to eat?”

“Eat while you talk. Lives depend on it.”

Chapter Four
    It was a house, but it wasn’t. Donovan had to buzz for admittance, and the man who let them in wore a gun in a shoulder holster.
    He must have seen her eyes go wide. “We don’t always go around armed,” Donovan told her. “We’re on alert now.”
    “Because of the hostages?”
    “Because of you.”
    Her stomach tightened at the thought that she was still in danger. “Did someone follow us?”
    “No. Not yet, anyway. But Wally obviously discovered something they don’t want you to talk about. They won’t give up.”
    He ushered her through a normal-looking living room, past a couple closed doors, to a library. The shelves of books and comfortable chairs looked inviting; the four people sitting there did not.
    A man with steel-gray hair and a closely trimmed