“He lives no more, Commander. His neck was broken.”

Al-Hassein flew around the desk, his teeth bared in rage. Stalking up to one of the guards, he planted a knee squarely between the man’s legs, causing the guard to gasp, hunch over, and loose his weapon. “You ignorant pig!” he screamed, spittle flying from dry lips. “I told you to take care with him!”

“It …it wasn’t us, Commander,” the other guard stated strongly. “The woman caught him when he was placed into the cell. He was alive when we left. I swear it!”

The Commander turned to the second guard, his eyes glittering with feral intensity. The guard’s eyes were round and wide but the truth of his words came through clearly. Al-Hassein felt the anger at his own men leave him with the words. His mind spun. The circumstances of the man’s death became clear to him and he felt a hint of pride at the unsuspected bravery of the American prisoners. He never expected them to choose death over dishonor. Further never expected a comrade to end the existence of another. Life was just too precious to them. His mind’s eye pictured the skinny blonde man snapping his companion’s neck. The picture seemed wrong somehow, but he suspected that perhaps the Americans had some hidden strengths after all. “Go back into that cell and bring me the skinny one.”

The guards nodded and were just about at the door when their commander’s voice pulled them up short. “No, wait.” He looked at the clock again, thoughts running rapidly through his head. Surely the woman would be easier to break. She might not know all the answers, but even a woman would know her own name and the name of the military branch to which she was attached. This information was sure to be enough to appease his superiors for the time being. After he broke the woman, he could work on the remaining men at his leisure.

Time again became his ally as Al-Hassein smiled, stroking the corners of his luxuriant moustache. “Bring me the woman instead.”

“Yes, Commander,” one of the guards replied as both stepped out of the office, closing the door softly behind them.

Al-Hassein smiled and rocked back on his heels. Life was suddenly quite good again.

The Commander smiled to himself as he heard his office door open once again, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork as the guards stepped into the room. His good mood had grown in the few minutes he was forced to wait; grown as he realized that he wouldn’t even have to get his hands dirty during this particular session. Al-Hassein could be a very charming man when he had to be. He knew American woman liked that; their own men being too boorish to master the fine art of civility. He would just walk over to the woman, turn on the charm, let her know that her information would keep the others in her group from getting hurt, and in ten minutes, be on the phone to his superiors, basking in their accolades.

It was only when he heard the small group cross over to the chair sitting before his desk did the officer deign to look up from his work. His smile froze on his face as he took in the form of the figure being held between his two guards. Whatever he might have expected, it was surely not this. The top of her lush raven head came equal to the taller of the two guards. Her strange, pale, utterly fearless eyes lanced into his own, causing his heartbeat pause as the seeds of nervousness previously planted began to grow roots in his belly. The woman exuded strength, focus, and an utter darkness the likes of which the commander, who was well used to strong, dangerous, dark men, had never seen.

After a long moment, his own darkness rose to the fore again, dismissing the look he had been given from those strange eyes as a mere trick of the light. With a nod of his dark head, the guards forced the woman down into the chair. He stopped them from binding her arms behind her back however, as he chanced a look at her hands. Suddenly, he knew without a doubt who had ended the soldier’s life in the cell. Those hands were large and strong and Al-Hassein thought that if he just looked at them for long enough, he would see inches of dried blood coating them. A tendril of fear snaked through his body as his gaze trailed up the lean, yet voluptuous, form of the now seated prisoner, stopping to take in the proud jaw and high arched cheekbones of what even he would admit was a beautiful American woman.

Pushing the senseless fear down yet again, the commander affixed a welcoming smile to his face as he rose from behind the desk and crossed to stand before this new prisoner. “Welcome, young woman,” he said in his most charming voice. “A pity that my friends didn’t remark on your ravishing beauty. I would have offered you only the finest hospitality had I known.”

“Then I’m glad they didn’t,” Kael responded in Al-Hassein’s own tongue, spoken without a trace of an accent. Again, the commander was left wondering, uncertain. Could these truly be Americans? Nodding again to his guards, Al-Hassein watched as they laid the woman’s arms on the arms of the chair, reaching down to secure her to the seat with thick leather straps. Her lean, tapered fingers curled around the edge of the chair arms, relaxed.

The commander allowed his countenance to darken as he looked up from his study of the woman’s hands to again peer into her glittering eyes. “Your friend was just about to bare his soul to me,” he said, finding comfort in the speaking of his own tongue. “You prevented that from happening. Why?”

Kael’s lips curved into a sneer as she refused to look away from his direct gaze.

The two engaged in a silent battle of wills for long moments before Al-Hassein found himself unbelievably having to look away from the deadly glare of his prisoner. Clearing his throat against his discomfort, the commander gestured to his men, who raised their weapons. “Unfortunately, you did a very bad thing and must receive the proper punishment. It’s not something I want to do, believe me. But even I have my orders.” He tried to make his voice sound sad, but failed miserably, so off balance was he by this strange woman sitting in his office as if she, not he, were the interrogator. He nodded again, a savage shake of his head, and watched interestedly as the rifle butts came down upon her unprotected hands, crushing the bones beneath the smooth, silken flesh, his ears awaiting the wonderful sounds of her screams of agony.

There was only silence. He forced himself to look up, knowing the woman had passed out just as her compatriots had before her, and irrationally disappointed because of it. Looked up to find those eyes still staring at him, the sneer still curled about the full lips of his captive.

“Is that the best you can do?” the low, melodious voice asked without a hint of the agony she must surely be feeling.

Al-Hassein forced himself not to gasp. Surely this woman was not human. “Who are you?” he breathed, barely aware that he was speaking aloud.

Kael chose not to answer him Instead, she leaned back against the chair, actually crossing her legs as the smirk on her face became a half smile of amusement. She was holding all the cards and she knew it. Worse, she knew he knew it as well. Her deceptively casual posture was deliberately designed to prod him into making a mistake.

Closing the distance between them, Al-Hassein’s wonder was evident on his face as he pushed a large thumb down onto the warm flesh of her crushed left hand. He stared at her face, determined to see some sort of reaction to this. There was none. Not even the involuntary tensing of her jaw muscles or the contraction of her pupils betrayed her pain. The amused smile remained. Her eyes seemed to laugh at his discomfort.

The commander removed his thumb and moved slightly away, trying to regroup. He was totally non-plused and reeling off balance. Al-Hassein was a competent military commander with many skirmish victories under his belt. None of his experience, however, had prepared him for this. His mind whirled. His broad shoulders raised, then settled as he wiped his hands down his uniform, huffing out a soft sigh of air.

The look of false compassion returned again to his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know,” he said finally, gesturing to her hands. “You understand my position. It was only business. You took something of mine so I had to take something of yours. Now that we are again on an even field, as it were, we can begin anew.” Reaching outward, he used a fingertip to gently caress Kael’s square jaw. “All you need do is answer my simple questions and I can promise you that this interview can proceed most …pleasantly.”

Kael’s smile of amusement turned to one of outright seduction. Her glittering silver-blue eyes darkened and narrowed wantonly, causing the Iraqi’s entire body to respond quite against his conscious will. “Perhaps,” she replied softly, her own eyes blazing a path down Al-Hassein’s uniformed body, coming to rest on the area between his legs. An ebony eyebrow curved. “If you’re sure you have the stamina for it, that is.”

His jaw opening in shock, Al-Hassein stepped back again. Reaching into the breast pocket of his uniform, he pulled out his ever-present handkerchief, wiping his fingers furiously as he stared at the prisoner still wantonly eyeing him. “You Americans are amazing,” he choked out, stuffing the rumpled, damp cloth back into his pristine uniform coat. Used to the covered deference of Muslim women, the commander was out of his element and he knew it. The line of seduction he had just laid on the American would have been an affront of the most horrid to one of his own, yet she accepted it as if it were her due and even had the utter gall to chastise his manhood.

Black blooms of rage flared up behind his eyes as he stared at his prisoner, grinding his perfect teeth in rhythm to the clenching of his fists. Well groomed nails dug divots into the warm flesh of his palms causing dots of blood to well up and surface.