Fourth of July (33 page)

“No.” The misery in Rachel’s voice made Alexis feel even worse.

Alexis leaned against the door. Their situation was more than frustrating; it was utterly hopeless.

Her heart thundered, threatening to pound through her chest cavity. She pressed her ear against the rough surface, praying she was jumping to conclusions. The sound was unmistakable. Someone approached the barn.

DYLAN MOANED AS HE REGAINED consciousness. His head had been rent in two.

“Rachel, Tyler,” he whispered.

He tried to open his eyes, but the glare of bright lights forced him to close them again.

“I think Sleeping Beauty is awakening,” he heard a female voice comment.

“It’s about time. I’m ready to get the show on the road.” Her male companion chuckled. “Isn’t that an American expression?”

“Soon we will recite American expressions in jest. We won’t have to hear the foul Americans utter them.”

“Nicely spoken, Danielle.”

Dylan cautiously cracked one eye. He stared up into cold black irises.

“Danielle,” he croaked.

“You do remember me.”

She pivoted toward a compact, swarthy-skinned man.

“Allow me to introduce you. Dylan McBride, if I remember correctly.”

Dylan only nodded to indicate her information was correct.

“Dylan McBride, Chris’ partner, or should I say
former
partner.”

Dylan couldn’t understand what she was talking about. He knew Chris was safe. At least he thought Chris was safe. Then he realized she meant he would be deceased soon.

“My family?” Dylan asked.

“They are fine, I assure you.” Danielle’s icy voice didn’t offer any reassurance. “In fact, we just sent Carlos to retrieve them.”

Dylan raised himself from his prone position. His hand instinctively went to brace the throb in his head. The spacious room was ringed with windows and graced by a sweeping staircase leading to the balcony of the second story. Studying several sets of French doors, he planned an escape route that he would most likely never get to use.

“We found the tracking devices you tried to hide on yours and Yusuf’s collars. You must not think we are very bright.” The man stared into Dylan’s face. “Did you really believe we would deliver your family and that would be the end of it?”

Dylan shrugged, keeping his face unreadable. He looked at Yusuf. The terrorist nodded at him with a smirk.

The small, dark man studied Dylan. “You shouldn’t be so trusting.”

“I just want my family back,” Dylan said.

“I guess next time you’ll plan a little better. But maybe there won’t be a next time.” He paused for effect. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ahmed Mahadi.”

Dylan’s gasp was audible. Ahmed topped the United Nation’s most wanted list. Raised in Syria and educated at Oxford University, he was an accomplished billionaire who was as ruthless as he was brilliant.

Ahmed cracked a smile, obviously enjoying Dylan’s shock.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”

“Yes,” Dylan muttered. He eyed Ahmed, appraising everything from his carefully styled black hair to his tailored Armani suit.

“Well then, since you insisted on coming to our party, you may as well be able to witness one of the greatest events in history. Danielle, tie his hands.”

“With pleasure.”

Dylan remained sitting. Danielle tied his hands in front of him, making sure the thin ropes were extra tight. Dylan grimaced, but only internally. He wouldn’t give her the pleasure of seeing him wince.

“What is keeping Carlos?” Ahmed asked. “That Spaniard fool can’t do anything right. Yusuf, go bring the women and child.”

Yusuf hurried from the room and into what Dylan assumed was the front entry. Dylan heard a door open and slam closed, followed by Yusuf’s footfalls pounding down the porch steps. Dylan’s heart pounded. The women and child. Rachel and Tyler were alive. Was Alexis the other woman?

“Why, Danielle?” Dylan didn’t know why, but he hoped there was something in her that would feel a connection to him.

Ahmed reclined into the leather couch, shaking his head at Danielle and answering for her, “Before you killed Danielle’s father…” He paused, glancing at Danielle.

Danielle glared at Dylan. Her mouth a pencil-thin line.

Ahmed continued, “Before his murder, Joseph and I united with Al-Qaeda leaders in many countries. Our common interest has always been,” he smiled, “hatred of the American people. We began with a tremendous success on September 11
th
...” he paused again, this time gauging Dylan’s reaction.

Dylan strove to remain calm. He wouldn’t give the terrorist the pleasure of seeing how his sick callousness affected him.

“The only problem was, after that glorious day, your government clamped down on access to secure information. Danielle and others like her were no longer able to obtain the information we needed via their connections.”

“So, Danielle had to find a different method of securing the necessary information. Your partner provided the perfect opportunity. He supplied everything we desired until, as she informs me, an American slut tried to steal him from her.”

He waved a hand showing how irrelevant the issue was.

“That girl will regret her actions very soon.”

Dylan sucked in air. Chris was right. The same people who held his wife and child had kidnapped Alexis. Had Chris slipped anything to Danielle? He knew Chris would never do it on purpose.

“I planned the events of July Fourth in retribution for the murder of Joseph.” Ahmed closed his eyes for a second.

“Murder is always a matter of perspective.” Dylan knew the man felt no guilt for slaughtering innocent people.

Ahmed’s eyes opened and he glared at Dylan before continuing, “July Fourth was also a very successful attack on your soil. Praise be to Allah.”

“Obviously, we worship a very different deity.” Dylan ached to put Ahmed in his proper place. A dank prison would be a good start.

“You ask why of Danielle? This has been her family’s cause and now it is hers. After tonight, most of the leadership in the United States of America will be obliterated.” His voice escalated in excitement, his dark eyes flashing. “Your country will be unable to function because of the chaos and destruction.”

Ahmed pounded a fist on the end table.

“It will be the greatest day in Al-Qaeda’s glorious history. We can finally make the infidels suffer, and soon Danielle will rule by my side where her father should have ruled.”

Alexis didn’t know what to do or where to hide.

Why hide?
A voice asked inside her head.

“Good idea.” She began searching for a weapon of any kind. There had to be a piece of wood, some kind of equipment. The closet.

“Move away from the door. I’ll be right back,” she whispered to Rachel. Retracing her steps, she jerked open the closet door. She found what she was hoping for—a leather bridle with a heavy iron bit.

Hurrying back to Rachel and Tyler, she panted. Just in time, she hid behind the door. The sound of a heavy bar being lifted penetrated the still interior. The door slowly creaked open, groaning against seldom-used hinges.

An outside light attached to the barn filtered through the open door. A man scanned the empty barn for his hostages. Alexis heard him mutter something in Spanish. Alexis trembled as she moved away from the wall and quietly began swinging the bridle over her head. She used the leather straps to her advantage.

Please let this work.

The man turned at the soft sound.

“Como...?”

Whack. The iron bit made a solid hit with the kidnapper’s forehead. Knocked off balance, his head slammed into the barn wall adding injury to injury. He was completely unconscious when Alexis approached him and checked for a pulse.

“He’s alive,” she reported to Rachel.

“Nice job,” Rachel congratulated her.

They wasted no time exiting their former prison.

“The door. We should bolt it back up.” Rachel set Tyler down. They struggled with the heavy beam but finally succeeded in barring the door. Tyler began fussing. Rachel picked him up. He found his thumb and within seconds slept soundly.

Alexis waited while her eyes adjusted to the darkness then directed Rachel away from the barn towards what she hoped would be freedom.

Heavy footsteps thumped in their direction.

“Oh, no,” Alexis whispered, her voice catching with fear. “Move.”

They ran toward a large stack of hay and hid behind it. Curses accompanied a large man rushing from the barn moments later.

“The American will pay for this.”

Alexis’ heart pounded as the footsteps faded. She looked at Rachel, terrified of what her new friend might be thinking.

“What do you want to do?”

“I’m following him. They’ve got Dylan. I can’t sit here and let my husband be hurt.”

Alexis nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure?”

Alexis dug her fingernails into her palms. “No, I’m not sure, but I’m definitely not letting you go alone. Besides, if Dylan is there, Chris can’t be far behind.”

Alexis knew it might be the dumbest thing they could do, but she followed Rachel, who was tracking Yusuf’s loud footsteps. She had to conquer her fears and somehow help Dylan.

Dylan couldn’t stand listening to Ahmed’s demented ideology. What was the extent of his plan? Could Dylan stop it?

Not likely
.

Frustration at his incompetence escalated. Where were Rachel, Tyler, and Alexis? Could he somehow protect them? Would Chris find him?

Yusuf rushed back into the room.

“The women are gone,” he yelled. “They knocked Carlos out.”

“Find them,” Ahmed screeched. “Everything must go according to schedule.”

Several men rushed from the room.

His wife and son were safe, for the moment. Dylan felt a glimmer of hope for the first time that day.

Alexis and Rachel trailed Yusuf.

He ran up the porch steps and through the front door of an elegant plantation-style mansion. This had to be the terrorists’ headquarters. Alexis wanted to run the other way, but there was nowhere else to go and they couldn’t leave Dylan.

They crept around the enormous house until they could see into the room Yusuf had entered. Alexis raised herself up to peek over the ledge of a window. What she saw made her stomach lurch, her heart race with apprehension. She dropped down next to Rachel on the plush grass.