away.
He didn’t want to worry Francesca with the news. He’d shrugged off her concerns about the ranch’s recent visitors as a one-time event. A bunch of kids having a party, he’d said. But he knew better, and he suspected she did as well. Fortunately, she hadn’t pressed him on it. Not yet.
They’d spent the night on the couches and floor of the great room, preferring to avoid the sweat-and-sex smell of the bedrooms. They slept in shifts through the night so that there were always two people on watch. They’d used today to recharge after the adrenaline-filled events of the previous twenty-four hours.
Jake caught a glimpse of Tony and Becker not far away. They had looped their rifles over their shoulders while they dragged a bundle of tumbleweeds toward a nearby copse of trees. Becker was tapping into his aboriginal roots as the two prepared a few special surprises for any unwelcome visitors.
Tony had calmed down somewhat after finally reaching his wife on the satellite phone the night before. His family was safely ensconced in his mom’s cabin. Two of Papa’s crew were keeping a sharp eye on them.
Nevertheless, with Battista on the loose, they were all in danger. If he turned himself over to the terrorist, Jake wondered, would his friends be safe? Jake’s mind raced through the options, running various scenarios to their logical end, weighing Battista’s apparent motivations against his friends’ lives. In each case, the answer was the same…
“ Non sono stupido ,” Francesca said in her native Italian, interrupting his thoughts. “I know you are hiding something from me.”
Jake tensed. Her ability to look right through him was uncanny. For the most part, he’d learned how to block her empathic gift when necessary, though he hated doing it. His impulse was to share his heart and soul with her. Under different circumstances he would have done so long ago, but there was no future in the cards for them now.
“Sorry,” he said, suspecting where this conversation was headed. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Over the past couple weeks, something had changed in her. He knew she wanted more out of their relationship. She’d been honest about that from the beginning, but lately it seemed she was on the verge of pressing the issue.
“I’m trying to figure out our next move,” he added. “I’m hoping we don’t have to use the tunnel.”
A flash of confusion crossed Francesca’s face.
“Tunnel?” she asked.
“There’s an underground river that flows just behind the main house. A trap door inside hides an entrance to a tunnel leading down to the caverns. According to Papa’s grandfather, the original owners used it as an escape route in the event of an attack by banditos .”
Francesca turned on the bench so that she was facing him. She took his hands in hers.
“Jake,” she said. She took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Jake said. “In a minute. The tunnel hasn’t—”
“The tunnel isn’t important right now,” she said, riveting him with an impassioned stare. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Now,” she said. “It’s important.”
“Okayyyy,” he said, drawing out the word as his mind grappled for an exit strategy.
Rescue came in the form of Lacey when the front door swung open and she stepped onto the porch.
“We need you inside right away,” she said. “We’ve got big problems.”
“Sorry,” Jake said to Francesca. He stood and extended his hand to help her up. She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. The look of disappointment in her eyes sent a pang of guilt through Jake. With a sigh, he turned and followed Lacey.
**
“Dude,” Marshall said. “This place is wired to the max!” Nervous excitement spilled from his words. He sat in front of a keyboard and three flat-screen monitors that stretched across an old credenza. The central monitor had a small camera
He didn’t want to worry Francesca with the news. He’d shrugged off her concerns about the ranch’s recent visitors as a one-time event. A bunch of kids having a party, he’d said. But he knew better, and he suspected she did as well. Fortunately, she hadn’t pressed him on it. Not yet.
They’d spent the night on the couches and floor of the great room, preferring to avoid the sweat-and-sex smell of the bedrooms. They slept in shifts through the night so that there were always two people on watch. They’d used today to recharge after the adrenaline-filled events of the previous twenty-four hours.
Jake caught a glimpse of Tony and Becker not far away. They had looped their rifles over their shoulders while they dragged a bundle of tumbleweeds toward a nearby copse of trees. Becker was tapping into his aboriginal roots as the two prepared a few special surprises for any unwelcome visitors.
Tony had calmed down somewhat after finally reaching his wife on the satellite phone the night before. His family was safely ensconced in his mom’s cabin. Two of Papa’s crew were keeping a sharp eye on them.
Nevertheless, with Battista on the loose, they were all in danger. If he turned himself over to the terrorist, Jake wondered, would his friends be safe? Jake’s mind raced through the options, running various scenarios to their logical end, weighing Battista’s apparent motivations against his friends’ lives. In each case, the answer was the same…
“ Non sono stupido ,” Francesca said in her native Italian, interrupting his thoughts. “I know you are hiding something from me.”
Jake tensed. Her ability to look right through him was uncanny. For the most part, he’d learned how to block her empathic gift when necessary, though he hated doing it. His impulse was to share his heart and soul with her. Under different circumstances he would have done so long ago, but there was no future in the cards for them now.
“Sorry,” he said, suspecting where this conversation was headed. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Over the past couple weeks, something had changed in her. He knew she wanted more out of their relationship. She’d been honest about that from the beginning, but lately it seemed she was on the verge of pressing the issue.
“I’m trying to figure out our next move,” he added. “I’m hoping we don’t have to use the tunnel.”
A flash of confusion crossed Francesca’s face.
“Tunnel?” she asked.
“There’s an underground river that flows just behind the main house. A trap door inside hides an entrance to a tunnel leading down to the caverns. According to Papa’s grandfather, the original owners used it as an escape route in the event of an attack by banditos .”
Francesca turned on the bench so that she was facing him. She took his hands in hers.
“Jake,” she said. She took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Jake said. “In a minute. The tunnel hasn’t—”
“The tunnel isn’t important right now,” she said, riveting him with an impassioned stare. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Now,” she said. “It’s important.”
“Okayyyy,” he said, drawing out the word as his mind grappled for an exit strategy.
Rescue came in the form of Lacey when the front door swung open and she stepped onto the porch.
“We need you inside right away,” she said. “We’ve got big problems.”
“Sorry,” Jake said to Francesca. He stood and extended his hand to help her up. She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. The look of disappointment in her eyes sent a pang of guilt through Jake. With a sigh, he turned and followed Lacey.
**
“Dude,” Marshall said. “This place is wired to the max!” Nervous excitement spilled from his words. He sat in front of a keyboard and three flat-screen monitors that stretched across an old credenza. The central monitor had a small camera
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