The Equalisers: A Soldier's Oath

Avnery nodded, a smirk hovering just beneath his perfectly composed professional veneer. “I find that the female perspective is not often conducive to constructive business.”

Spencer would just bet he did. Men like Avnery considered women good for nothing more than sexual and domestic slavery. He was reasonably sure this guy was Israeli. Maybe he’d been raised in Kuwait or Saudi Arabia. Whatever the case, his perspective on how women should be treated was definitely skewed.

That was the thing about men like Avnery, they needed a female in submission to feel more like a man. He didn’t have to know this guy personally to understand that his feelings had nothing to do with religion or tradition.

He could only assume that if Willow knew this man he was somehow associated with al-Shimmari, which explained everything about his attitude. He would also assume for the moment that his interest in Spencer’s companion was more related to his warped view of women than the possibility that he’d somehow recognized Willow.

Avnery gave Spencer the grand tour of the suite of offices that made up the third floor of the building. He pretended to be impressed. But mostly he was worried about the woman hiding in the restroom downstairs.

He was supposed to protect Willow Harris.

They’d barely arrived in-country and already he’d made a strategic error.

Maybe all the booze had stolen his edge.

The idea that Willow might have to pay the price for his two-year layover in hell twisted like concertina wire in his gut.

WILLOW WORKED hard to slow her breathing.

She’d almost lost control there for a minute.

How did she know that man?

She’d definitely met him before. The way he moved. That harsh profile, long, wide nose… jutting chin.

Think!

Okay, calm down.

Pushing off the bathroom door, she started to pace in front of the line of stalls.

Black hair. Maybe five-eight or nine. Medium build.

She rubbed at her forehead as if that would help. It didn’t. The familiarity was there. She knew him. But how?

If she knew his name… maybe that would help her remember.

Willow stopped in mid-step. Surely his name would trigger the right synapse.

Before reason had kicked in she’d made it to the door.

Anders had told her to stay in here until he came back for her.

But what if he was in danger?

What if this was a setup?

Khaled might have found out she was here with Anders and sent that man in place of the real estate man they were supposed to meet. No, that couldn’t be right. Anders had contacted this guy. Hadn’t he?

This was ridiculous!

She couldn’t hide in this restroom like this.

Going out there and getting this guy’s name was the right thing to do. Then she would know for sure. She refused to be a coward.

Willow pulled the door open before she could change her mind. The lobby remained empty. The typical workweek ran from Sunday through Wednesday, there wouldn’t be that much business going on today.

That was to her benefit.

Taking care to restrain her stride, she made the nerve-wracking journey to the reception desk. The man behind the counter looked up, but he didn’t ask if he could help her.

“My husband is viewing the suite of offices on the third floor. I thought I might visit the gallery across the street.”

The man stared, didn’t even blink.

Keep going. “Would you mind taking a message for my husband so he knows where I am when he comes down?”

“One moment.”

While he rounded up a pen and paper, she covertly read the final two names on the register. Spencer Anders. Yuri Avnery.

The name didn’t ring a bell.

“At the gallery across the street?” the clerk confirmed.

She nodded. “I’ll be waiting there.”

“I will see that he receives your message.”

Willow thanked him and turned to face the front entrance. It wasn’t like she could not go now. She’d told the clerk she was going. It had been the only way she could think of to get a look at the register. Maybe if she’d had time to plan an excuse she would have come up with something better.

It didn’t matter now. She had to go.

Anders would probably yell at her.

But keeping their cover intact was too important to screw it up with a misstep this trivial.

She could do this.

It wasn’t a big deal.

All she had to do was walk out the door and across the street. There was little traffic on the street and even fewer pedestrians. The chances of running into anyone she knew from before were about the same as winning the lottery.

Maybe a little less than that, but the basic concept was the same.

Concentrating on making her decision happen, she put one foot in front of the other. No looking back. No hesitating. Just do it.

She exited the building and didn’t stop until she’d reached the street. When the unexpected surge in traffic passed, she crossed the street.