Fourth of July (34 page)

“They’ve got Dylan.”

Rachel’s face drained of color. “Madison?”

Alexis shook her head. “I didn’t see her.”

Rachel released a sigh.

“I think we should sneak inside.” Alexis fought to control the tremor in her voice. She should’ve been running from danger, instead she embraced it.

Rachel’s face filled with determination. “Let’s go.”

CHRIS PUNCHED THE DECK of the boat in frustration. “Can’t these boats move any faster?”

“Sorry, sir. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“In twenty minutes my whole world could be dead,” Chris muttered.

He chafed from his complete inability to do anything. He didn’t have a clue what was happening. He didn’t know whether they were alive or dead. He didn’t even know if Alexis would be there. The lack of control grated on his already-raw nerves. All he possessed was a tiny beacon to follow but he was grateful to at least have that.

Heavenly Father, I know I haven’t relied on you for a long time, but I’m trusting you now. Thank you for Dylan, Rachel, Madison, Tyler, and especially Alexis. Please protect them. I don’t know if I can survive if something happens to them. Please help me to have more faith. Amen.

Chris opened his eyes feeling better. A warm sensation of peace blanketed him. He wondered how he had made it these past five years without the Lord in his life.
Thank you,
he mouthed.

They had to get there in time. He wouldn’t give up hope. The Lord would protect them. He had to.

Ahmed waited until each of his subordinates reported in. The two women and little boy had vanished. Dylan wanted to cheer.

“Have you checked down by the beach and all the outbuildings?” Ahmed questioned.

“Yes, sir. They have disappeared.” Yusuf dipped his head, breathing heavily.

“Well, we’ll just have to proceed,” Ahmed said. “The closest plantation is a fair distance. They couldn’t reach it by dawn. Keep everyone searching while Danielle and I proceed. Make sure the men know they have permission to terminate.”

“No!” Dylan jumped to his feet.

Slamming his gun into Dylan’s head, Yusuf pushed him back onto the sofa. Pain exploded in Dylan’s skull. Yusuf pointed the tip of his pistol into Dylan’s ear.

Ahmed smiled patiently. “Later,” he said to Yusuf. “And not on my sofa.” He waved a hand. “Go find the women.”

“Please don’t kill them,” Dylan begged. “What if it was your wife? Your child?”

The men ignored him as they filed from the room.

Dylan shuddered with fear.
Please protect them, Lord. Please keep them safe.
Dylan hung his head. What could he do to protect them? He was helpless.

“Well, then,” Ahmed began again. His voice returned to a more pleasant tone. “It is unfortunate we won’t have as large an audience to witness the execution of my brilliant plan, but I guess you will have to be sufficient.”

Dylan’s head shot up. Blackness crossed his eyes as the pain intensified. “You kidnapped my family to give you an audience for your sick acts of terrorism?”

“Well, yes. That and to ensure Yusuf’s release, but soon you’ll see we actually saved your lives,” Ahmed cackled. “For the moment, at least.”

Dylan felt his gut tighten, his anger escalating. His normal tight reign of self-control was slipping.

“You kidnapped my family to give you an audience,” he stated again through clenched teeth.

“Yes.” Ahmed looked at Dylan as if he were an imbecile.

Dylan could take no more. He sprang from the sofa, lunging at Ahmed. He’d fight his way free, find his family, and make this man suffer for hurting them.

A gun materialized in Ahmed’s hand.

“Stay back.”

Danielle pressed another gun into his neck.

Dylan stopped inches from Ahmed. He looked into the barrel of the gun. He felt the pressure from Danielle’s weapon. He silently weighed his options. It was hard to think rationally through his anger and the pounding in his head. He wouldn’t be able to help his family or anyone else if he were dead.

Slowly, he raised his bound hands in acquiescence. Danielle used the gun to push him back to his seat. Dylan perched on the edge of the couch. He would have to control himself until the right opportunity presented itself.

Where are you, Chris?

“So, where was I?” Ahmed slipped the gun into his pocket. He waved Danielle away from Dylan. “Oh yes, the plan. At this very moment there are six ordinary cargo freighters headed toward the eastern and western seaboards of the United States. Each ship is loaded with a nuclear weapon.” He paused for effect.

Dylan’s eyes widened in shock. “Impossible! Where did you get six nuclear warheads?”

“Where?” Ahmed seemed to be enjoying this. “You Americans thought you were so smart when you overtook Iraq. The nuclear weapons were purchased from Saddam’s regime long before the U.N. inspectors and your military arrived. We knew Saddam couldn’t withstand the invasion by America. Joseph D’Artagnan worked out the transaction. Brilliant.”

“He’s dead because the U.S. found him,” Dylan said. “That doesn’t show too much brilliance.”

“Watch your mouth, infidel,” Ahmed roared.

He covered the distance separating them with surprising agility, backhanding Dylan. Dylan’s head snapped from the impact. The hit caused the pounding in his head to increase.

Danielle glared at Dylan, looking like she could scratch his eyes out with her acrylic nails and enjoy it. Luckily for Dylan, she seethed without physically attacking him.

Ahmed took a moment to regain his composure. He walked away from Dylan, inhaling a long breath. When he began to speak again his voice was restored to its normal tone.

“Once your coast disappears into a fine cloud of dust, we will overrun your military outposts. Our leaders will quickly step in and take over leadership of many countries throughout the world. We’ve all seen the cowardly indecisiveness of the U.N. peacekeepers. The United Nation’s members think only of averting war. They have no desire to fight. No taste for blood.”

“It will be far more glorious than the Reich’s failed attempt at world domination,” Ahmed said. “The United States will not be an issue anymore. The Soviets have broken into fragmented, poor nations, and we all know Europe will cower.”

“What about the China, Japan, North Korea?”

“We won’t control everyone initially.” Ahmed waved a hand in dismissal. “It will only be a matter of time and possibly some well-fought battles.”

Dylan didn’t waste time responding. He couldn’t worry about Ahmed’s demented plans of world domination. He needed to stop those nuclear weapons from firing and killing millions of Americans, his daughter included. A paralyzing fear consumed him. He prayed inwardly for some sort of solution.

“It’s time,” Danielle announced.

Dylan broke into a cold sweat.
What can I do?
He had to find a way to save Madison and then escape with Rachel, Tyler, and Alexis. The key was stopping Ahmed.

“Thank you.” Ahmed’s eyes shone as he nodded at Danielle. “Would you please keep a gun on our guest? I wouldn’t want him getting any ideas.”

“With pleasure,” Danielle said. “Get up.”

Dylan rose. Danielle jammed the gun into the back of his skull, pushing him into step behind Ahmed.

Dylan labored up the elegant staircase, his brain hammering with every step.

They passed through an open balcony, reaching a large, airy office. One entire wall was composed of windows. The opposite wall was covered with intricate mahogany bookshelves. A massive desk occupied the center of the room. Ahmed lifted a small object from the center of the desk, stroking it.

“My creation,” he informed Dylan. “In less than a minute, each ship will report that it is in position. This device controls the separate nuclear weapons.”

“Do the nuclear weapons have their own firing capabilities?” Dylan asked.

“No, I have the sole power right here,” Ahmed bragged.

So, he doesn’t even trust his own people. If I can disarm it, they couldn’t fire the weapons independently.

A plan began to formulate in Dylan’s mind. He would probably die stopping Ahmed but it would be a worthwhile sacrifice. He would give his life for Madison and numerous other Americans.

Dylan prayed Rachel and Tyler were safe somewhere, away from these madmen and woman.

Run, my love. Run far away from here.

Rachel was running, but not in the direction Dylan prayed for. She and Alexis entered the house through the kitchen, using the back staircase to arrive on the second floor undetected. Yusuf and his men were still outside searching for them.

A few minutes later, they located a closet filled with blankets. Reluctantly they hid the still-sleeping Tyler inside. Rachel abhorred leaving her son, but she knew she had little choice if she was to be any help to Dylan or Alexis. At least he would be safe here.

As they continued creeping through the second story, they heard loud voices permeating through the walls. Only one room away from the office, they held their breath. Only wood, sheetrock, and paint separated them from Dylan, Ahmed, and Danielle.

Rachel pressed her ear to the wall, desperate to know what was happening to her husband.

Yusuf and his men searched the waterfront, combing each building and possible hiding spot on the property. They convened at the horse barn.

“I want you to continue broadening the search,” Yusuf instructed Carlos and the seven other men with him. “Begin by searching the woods then spread out toward the other plantations.”

“Where are you going?” Carlos rubbed the red mark on his forehead where he’d been hit.

“I’m going back to the mansion.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if I will find anything but I want to check inside the mansion. There is a small chance they could be hiding right under our noses.”

“Aha,” Carlos said. “That is a good idea. I wish I had thought of it. I owe those women pain.”

Yusuf thumped him on the back. “You’ll get your chance to inflict it. Report in if you find anything. I’ll radio you when I complete my search.”