The Somali Deception Episode II (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) Read Free

clans are run by the
elders.”
      “And Abbo is an elder.”
    “Technically a sheikh maybe, I
don’t know.   He is the Cartel
elder.”
    “Where can I find him?” asked Cameron.
    “You want to find Abbo
Mohammed?”
    “Do you know where he is?”
    “Sure I know.   He’s not that hard to find.   He holds up where all the shady billion
dollar deals take place.   You’ll
find Abbo Mohammed in Dubai.   What
do you plan to do, march in and cook him something?”
    “You’d be surprised,” said
Cameron.   “Actually, we have a
friend to help us make contact, Ibrahim --,”
    “Ibrahim Dada!”
    “You know the name?”
    “Don’t be fresh.   You should be real careful of the
friends you are making lately.”
    “I can use the help so right now
I am going with the old saying ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’,” said
Cameron.
    Maggie leaned back and peered
into Cameron’s eyes, “I hope you know what you’re doing.   The old saying you should be concerned
with is ‘with friends like that who needs enemies’?”

 
    * * *
* *
 
     

Chapter
22
    Paris, Years Ago
     
     
    Christine entered the small
galley kitchen and agilely slipped her naked body behind Cameron as he buttered
golden chunks of the egg-fried bread he had prepared from the remnants of last
evening’s loaf.   She wrapped her
arms tightly around him, rested her cheek on his upper back, and made a warm
purring sound.   Cameron felt her
nakedness through his thin cotton shirt.   Her warmth prompted his chest to flex as she squeezed.
    “Bonjour, l’amour,” said
Cameron, his voice soft and sing song.
    “I can not believe you were up
so early,” said Christine, her eyes still closed heavy with sleep.   “What time is it?” she nuzzled further
into Cameron’s shoulder muscles.
    “I did not want to wake you until
breakfast was ready,” said Cameron.
    “It must be so early.   Did you make coffee?”
    “Yes, and it’s not that early.”
    “No?   I do not believe you.”   Christine softly nudged her head deeper
into Cameron’s shoulder.   “We should
go back to bed.”
    Cameron smiled contently and
began to place the bread onto a plate, “What happened to going out today?   Remember, a walk by the river, a
gallery, maybe a trip to the country.”
    “Yes, yes,” said Christine.   “I want to do those things today.”   She lifted her head and tugged Cameron’s
shirt, turning him toward her.   “That would be so nice.   To
have you for myself today.”   She
lifted her arms up over his shoulders and pulled herself close to him.   He met her with a kiss.   First a long
one and then two fast smooches.   Her
lids sprung open, her green eyes lively and jubilant, awaken by his touch.
    “Whoa,” said Cameron.   “Where did that come from?”
    “You reminded me that I have you
all to myself today my love.”   Christine grabbed a piece of the bread from the plate and the jar of jam
from the counter, “First you must feed me.   I am so hungry.”   Her eyes
and mouth both went wide as she tore off a chunk of the bread.   Mouth full, cheeks puffed, she smiled at
Cameron, and then slipped past him toward the table.
    Cameron set the plate of egg
battered bread on the table along with some goat cheese, honey, and the
coffee.   When he sat, Christine was
already voraciously underway with breakfast.   Cameron laughed and Christine returned a
full smile.   Cameron bit into a
piece of bread, and then chuckled.   He placed his hand over his mouth.
    “What?” asked Christine.
    Cameron pointed at the corner of
his mouth as if he were Christine’s mirror.   She put a finger near her lip, “Oh,” she
said and wiped away a splotch of honey.   Cameron’s smile did not fade.   Christine lifted her brows in question.   “And um,” Cameron tapped his chest.   She looked down, “Oh,” she said.   She gave him a toothy bread filled then grin.   Then with
her pinky she dabbed at the drops of honey that