home alive.”
The man’s suit showed a life’s worth of worry in every wrinkle. “What I did hasn’t hampered that at all. They will be home within the hour.”
“What have you done. Ambassador?”
The man jutted his chin upward and tossed a nondescriptnote card on the desk. “My daughter should be with a personal friend as we speak.”
Steven stood and swore in tandem. Then he invaded Sir Walter’s personal space. “Tell me exactly what you have done, or God help me, your diplomatic immunity will mean nothing.” Steven opened his cell phone and hit Clint’s speed dial while he skimmed the plain white card.
The man’s ashen face sent Steven’s stomach roiling.
“I … I simply followed the instructions on the note. I couldn’t risk Olivia’s life. The instructions specified another park, no intelligence officers, or Olivia would be dead upon sighting. That’s what I was told happened to an intelligence officer with the arms dealing situation referenced in the e-mail. I had to do as they said.”
“Any other bits of information you’d care to share?” Steven held up the note. “Like yet another park switch?”
“N-no. On my life, I swear it’s Memorial Hill Park.”
“What time?”
His partner answered the phone. “Clint, alert the HRT Correct hunch.”
Sir Walter studied his black shoes.
Steven bent down toward the ambassador. “Exactly when?”
“Twenty past eleven.”
“It’s going down now, Clint. I’m on my way.” Steven stormed out of the study and ran to his vehicle. The Secret Service had seen and heard all they needed to know to stay out of his way.
Steven punched another speed dial as he slammed his foot on the gas. The south side of Alexandria was a formidable distance away “Michael, call the unit chief and put the ambassador under arrest. Give them the details you recorded.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael’s unasked question drove Steven hard as he threw his phone onto the passenger seat.
He had to make it in time.
Hidden by a moonless night and thick trees, Gordon watched the drop site.
The two girls, in black hoods and bound wrists, remained silent nearby Duct tape helped squelch their godforsaken moaning. That and the rugged trek with his new Glock 17C prodding them onward. Over streams and logs ’til they had no directional sense left.
If ever they’d had some.
Memorial Hill Park. He chuckled to himself as he leaned against the rough tree. In mere minutes, this day would become immemorial to Sir Walter Kensington. Just like Harry’s funeral. And he’d have ten million of the old fool’s money. Blood money What Harry had died trying to find.
Gordon checked his timepiece. Drop-off time had passed.
Sir Kensington had never served in Her Majesty’s Special Forces, or he’d have shown and retreated by now.
Olivia fought against the silver bracelets securing her hands behind her. Jordan started her insufferable whines, just out of Olivia’s reach.
“It’s no use. Be still!” Gordon reacquainted her with his Glock, and she was silenced.
His eyes scoped the darkness, ready to kill two birds in seconds if necessary and leave them for the FBI to find. Then his night-vision goggles showed a single body fast approaching the drop-off mark three meters to his left. Good sport. Seems Sir Kensington had heeded the note he’d sent. Wise bloke. Got himself caught covering his tracks too.
Cheers to ’em. Gordon smiled.
The ransom bag now rested under a ramshackle picnic table near the edge of a slight clearing. He waited for the stupid wally transporting it to disappear into the night.
Within seconds, Gordon shoved the American girl forward, blind and bound, to find her way out of the forest. Take her all night, it would.
He pulled Sir Kensington’s eldest along as he reached the bag. This one he wouldn’t give up tonight.
An owl hooted overhead. The hair on his neck stood to attention. Looking up, he could see dots of heat nearing from the south. He
The man’s suit showed a life’s worth of worry in every wrinkle. “What I did hasn’t hampered that at all. They will be home within the hour.”
“What have you done. Ambassador?”
The man jutted his chin upward and tossed a nondescriptnote card on the desk. “My daughter should be with a personal friend as we speak.”
Steven stood and swore in tandem. Then he invaded Sir Walter’s personal space. “Tell me exactly what you have done, or God help me, your diplomatic immunity will mean nothing.” Steven opened his cell phone and hit Clint’s speed dial while he skimmed the plain white card.
The man’s ashen face sent Steven’s stomach roiling.
“I … I simply followed the instructions on the note. I couldn’t risk Olivia’s life. The instructions specified another park, no intelligence officers, or Olivia would be dead upon sighting. That’s what I was told happened to an intelligence officer with the arms dealing situation referenced in the e-mail. I had to do as they said.”
“Any other bits of information you’d care to share?” Steven held up the note. “Like yet another park switch?”
“N-no. On my life, I swear it’s Memorial Hill Park.”
“What time?”
His partner answered the phone. “Clint, alert the HRT Correct hunch.”
Sir Walter studied his black shoes.
Steven bent down toward the ambassador. “Exactly when?”
“Twenty past eleven.”
“It’s going down now, Clint. I’m on my way.” Steven stormed out of the study and ran to his vehicle. The Secret Service had seen and heard all they needed to know to stay out of his way.
Steven punched another speed dial as he slammed his foot on the gas. The south side of Alexandria was a formidable distance away “Michael, call the unit chief and put the ambassador under arrest. Give them the details you recorded.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael’s unasked question drove Steven hard as he threw his phone onto the passenger seat.
He had to make it in time.
Hidden by a moonless night and thick trees, Gordon watched the drop site.
The two girls, in black hoods and bound wrists, remained silent nearby Duct tape helped squelch their godforsaken moaning. That and the rugged trek with his new Glock 17C prodding them onward. Over streams and logs ’til they had no directional sense left.
If ever they’d had some.
Memorial Hill Park. He chuckled to himself as he leaned against the rough tree. In mere minutes, this day would become immemorial to Sir Walter Kensington. Just like Harry’s funeral. And he’d have ten million of the old fool’s money. Blood money What Harry had died trying to find.
Gordon checked his timepiece. Drop-off time had passed.
Sir Kensington had never served in Her Majesty’s Special Forces, or he’d have shown and retreated by now.
Olivia fought against the silver bracelets securing her hands behind her. Jordan started her insufferable whines, just out of Olivia’s reach.
“It’s no use. Be still!” Gordon reacquainted her with his Glock, and she was silenced.
His eyes scoped the darkness, ready to kill two birds in seconds if necessary and leave them for the FBI to find. Then his night-vision goggles showed a single body fast approaching the drop-off mark three meters to his left. Good sport. Seems Sir Kensington had heeded the note he’d sent. Wise bloke. Got himself caught covering his tracks too.
Cheers to ’em. Gordon smiled.
The ransom bag now rested under a ramshackle picnic table near the edge of a slight clearing. He waited for the stupid wally transporting it to disappear into the night.
Within seconds, Gordon shoved the American girl forward, blind and bound, to find her way out of the forest. Take her all night, it would.
He pulled Sir Kensington’s eldest along as he reached the bag. This one he wouldn’t give up tonight.
An owl hooted overhead. The hair on his neck stood to attention. Looking up, he could see dots of heat nearing from the south. He
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