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reporter?”

“You’ll share a private car to the airport. You’ll both be picked up from the Intercontinental Hotel at seven p.m. tonight and driven to the airport. That will give you plenty of time to talk. Rayi will have luggage for you at the hotel so that you can put it into the car.”

“Got it.”

“Now, tell me what has you so riled up. Obviously, it is the conversation you had with the soldier.”

“SEAL. I’d bet my last dollar that he’s a SEAL. Do you have something to write down his information?”

“Always,” Alistair replied.

“Leo Perez, Chief Petty Officer. He’s part of a team that’s here.” She paused and sucked in a deep breath. “Dad, I have the feeling that Ethan is going to be executed.”

“Dammit. So he’s been angering some locals,” Alistair bit out.

“Yes. But don’t tell the family. It will just upset them.”

“I wouldn’t, Honey. There isn’t any point. I hate you having to know.”

“I’m fine.” And she was. She could handle it. That’s what she did, put her feelings away and handled things.

“I’ll have the information on your man very quickly, Daisy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

She hung up.

It was four-seventeen. She called Malek. His wife had briefly worked for W.A.N.T.; that was the only reason Daisy had chosen him as her driver. She prayed that he was trustworthy.

“Malek,” Daisy started the call with a smile in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied in Dari.

“I need your help. I think we’re going to need another driver as well.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need to get rid of the people who are following me.”

“That should be simple. They were already having trouble keeping up in our traffic.”

“I think they might have someone better trying to follow us tonight. I have a plan I want to discuss with you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” This time she heard the excitement in his voice. All over the world, every man wanted to be James Bond.

Alistair had been right. Two cars were following them, and between them, Malek wasn’t able to lose them, no matter how fast he drove, or how he wove in and out of traffic.

I’m not going to die. It will be all right.

She held on tightly to the St. Christopher medal that a nun had given her a couple of years ago. He was the patron saint of travelers and was supposed to keep you safe. At this point, she’d take any and all help she could get.

Daisy looked at her watch. It was five-ten. “Malek, it’s time to go to plan B.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ten more minutes of Formula One driving and Malek screeched to a stop in front of the Golbahar Center Bank Mall.

“Will your nephew be ready for me?”

“Yes, he will.”

“I’ll look different,” she warned again.

“It’s okay, as long as you hold up your purse, he will come and get you.”

She looked down at her bright red purse. Yep, it stood out. She was going to have to do something about that.

“They’re here, ma’am.”

Dammit!

Daisy bolted out of Malek’s old car and strutted into the mall entrance. At this point, she wanted to be followed. She was immediately hit with the smell of perfume. She turned and saw the perfume store to the right. Next came a bigger shoe store. Neither of those would do. She needed a huge department store.

She meandered slowly down the walkway until she turned a corner and used the glass window of a rug shop to get a look at the man who was following her. Light blue windbreaker, chino pants, blond hair, and glasses. Nobody she recognized from the embassy.

She kept walking until she got to a rather large women’s clothing store. It had both traditional Afghan clothes and Western clothing. Now it was time to see if she had any acting ability.

She slowly walked to the back of the store, stopping occasionally to look at different items on tables, but continuing to take note that the man in the windbreaker was just keeping watch outside the storefront.

“May I help you?” a motherly-looking woman dressed in Afghan garb asked in English.

Daisy worked up a helpless expression. She grabbed the woman’s hand in both of hers. “I hope you can help me,” she said in Dari.

The woman reassessed her. “What’s wrong, my dear?”

“If you go to the front of the store, you’ll see a man who has been following me all day. He knows my boyfriend is out of town on business, and he’s,” Daisy swallowed. Then she started again. “He’s going to follow me to my home. I need to go to my friend’s house without him seeing where I’m going.”

The woman sighed. “And you can’t go to the police,” she shook her head sadly.

It was true. Both women knew that it was very likely the police would take the man’s side.

“What can I do to help?” The woman asked.

“If I can change from Western clothes?” Daisy asked hopefully. “Perhaps one of your beautiful parahaans and tombaan sets, and left the store in disguise…?” She let her voice trail off as she looked around the store she saw the exquisitely handmade trousers and overdresses in subdued and bright colors, all with coordinating scarfs. If she wore the scarf low enough, she should be able to disguise herself.

The woman gave Daisy a thorough once-over. “It might work. We would have to get you the right shoes as well, and you could put your purse into one of the shopping bags.” Now the sales clerk was getting into the project.

She hustled Daisy into a cramped fitting room, where she was met by many women laughing behind different curtains. This was obviously a fun outing for the ladies.

Before she had a chance to

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