Fourth of July (35 page)

DYLAN HEARD THE CRACKLE of a radio coming to life as Ahmed fiddled with the controls. Various voices were speaking in a language he assumed was Arabic.

“Praise Allah, it is time,” Ahmed said.

Chris isn’t going to make it.

Ahmed’s face gleamed triumphantly as his finger moved to first engage the key and then push the middle button.

Now or never.

Dylan rushed toward Ahmed, hoping to knock the device from the terrorist’s grasp before Danielle shot him. A flash of red appeared out of nowhere the instant Dylan made his move. Dylan watched Alexis slam Danielle to the floor. The gun discharged. The bullet pierced a mahogany bookshelf. Alexis wrenched the gun from Danielle’s grasp and shoved her face into the floor.

“I would lie quietly if I were you.” Alexis dug her knee and the gun into Danielle’s back.

Dylan turned his attention back to overpowering Ahmed, only to find Rachel had beat him there. Stripping the device from Ahmed’s clasp, Rachel dashed away from the terrorist. Ahmed clawed at the air, turning to pursue Rachel.

“Stay where you are or I’ll smash it to bits,” Rachel warned, turning the key to the off position.

“Rachel,” Dylan yelled, watching in horror as the enraged terrorist whipped the pistol from his pocket.

“Slowly give the device back to me,” Ahmed threatened.

Rachel elevated it higher above her head.

“Go ahead and shoot me,” she taunted. “You wouldn’t dare. This contraption will be dashed to pieces if it’s dropped.” She tapped the hardwood surface with her bare foot.

Ahmed howled. His finger tightened on the trigger. The seconds stretched until Dylan waned to scream. The gun was lowered inch by inch. Ahmed held it loosely in his hand, panting.

Dylan released a sigh of relief. His wife was amazing.

“Untie Dylan’s hands and give him the gun,” Rachel instructed.

Ahmed reluctantly complied with her request, jerking the ropes from Dylan’s wrists and placing the gun in his outstretched hands.

“What do I do with this?” Rachel asked Dylan, holding the device like it was going to explode in her hands.

“I would set the device down gently if I were you,” a heavily accented voice spoke from the hallway.

“Well, you aren’t me,” Rachel retorted.

“Come into the hallway right now.”

“You come in here,” Dylan said. “Unless you want me to kill Ahmed.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Dylan stopped. A tiny whimper pierced to the center of his soul. “Tyler?”

“Daddy, Daddy,” the little voice cried out.

Dylan’s vision blurred. His legs almost collapsed underneath him.

“Tyler,” Rachel yelled. “Tyler!”

Tyler’s cries began in earnest at the sound of his mother’s voice. “Momma. Momma.”

“Come out now.”

Rachel rushed into the hallway. Dylan and Ahmed followed close behind. Pressing the gun into Ahmed’s back to prevent him from making any sudden moves, Dylan realized his hands trembled. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alexis rip several cords from the drapery hanging nearby, hurrying to tie up Danielle. Then he left the room to confront whoever was holding his boy.

“YES!” CHRIS LEANED OVER the boat’s railing to see better. An island materialized in front of him. If the transmitter was as accurate as they claimed, he and his team would be landing on the same dock Dylan, Rachel, Tyler, and Alexis had been brought to earlier today.

“Sir,” the boat driver tapped his arm. “Lights, up on the hill. It looks like a large home.”

Chris prayed this was the right location. The boats tied off. He jumped to the dock. Men and women spilled out of the boats like pieces of grain in an overloaded dump truck. Disembarking onto dry land, they looked to Chris.

He laid out a quick plan of action to the various FBI agents, police officers, and highly trained operatives from other government agencies. These twenty people represented every qualified and willing person who had volunteered for the mission on such short notice.

As they strapped on their equipment, Chris gave them brief instructions before he led the team up the sloping hill to the mansion.

Rachel could barely hold onto the device. Her entire body shook. The terrorist had found her baby. What she saw as she cleared the doorframe made her world turn black. Only sheer determination and the strength of the Lord kept her from passing out cold.

“Drop the device and I will drop the child,” Yusuf informed Rachel, his voice devoid of any emotion.

“Give me my baby.” She shuddered.

“Give me the device.”

“Momma!” Tyler’s face was blood red. He howled at the top of his lungs. Yusuf held him by one chubby leg, his body dangling over the banister, twenty feet above the unforgiving marble floor.

“Momma’s here,” Rachel managed to say. “I’m here, sweetie,” her voice cracked from terror. She couldn’t speak anymore as tears streaked her face and filled her throat.

“Tyler,” Dylan cried out from behind her.

“Perfect,” Ahmed said.

Yusuf grinned in his direction. “Found him crying in a closet.”

Rachel turned to look at her husband, begging him to do something.

“Set my child down now,” Dylan yelled, shoving the gun into Ahmed’s temple.

“Gladly.” Yusuf lowered Tyler several more inches.

Rachel gasped.

“I’ll kill him.” Dylan pulled back on the trigger.

“I’ll kill
him
.” Yusuf grinned wickedly as he lifted and lowered Tyler like a ten-pound dumbbell.

“No,” Rachel screamed in horror, rushing toward her baby.

“Stay back.” Yusuf pinched Tyler’s ankle with only his thumb and forefinger. He swung the child like a play doll.

“Momma.” Tyler bawled louder still.

“Stop,” Dylan cried out. “Hold onto him!”

Rachel froze in her tracks. “Dylan!”

Dylan’s arm dropped to his side, the gun dangling in his fingers. Yusuf gripped Tyler’s leg with his entire hand, holding him steady. Ahmed smiled.

“That was smart, American,” Yusuf said.

“Momma, Daddy,” Tyler shrieked over and over again.

The sound ripped at Rachel’s heart. She didn’t dare move, fearing Yusuf’s reaction. She looked into Dylan’s eyes. He shook his head at her. Hopelessness crashed in. They had to do something. It took every ounce of mental strength to prevent her legs from rushing over to free her child.

“Hand the gun back to Ahmed,” Yusuf instructed Dylan.

Dylan complied.

“Now you,” he glanced in Rachel’s direction. “Hand the device to me, and I will give you the child.”

Tyler’s plaintive cries impaired her thought process. Rachel tried to think clearly. She closed the gap between herself and her little boy, watching Yusuf’s hand, praying his grip was strong. Her entire frame shook as the fear for Tyler’s safety consumed her.

“I’ll do what you ask.” Rachel hated the desperation lacing her voice as she tried to bargain with the monster who threatened her child. “But only if you allow me to grab hold of Tyler before I hand you the device.”

“Okay.” Yusuf shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

Rachel shuddered. He probably didn’t care because he planned to kill them all.

Rachel grasped Tyler’s leg with her left hand and then extended the instrument to Yusuf. She released her hold on the device. Yusuf let go of Tyler milliseconds before she had two hands on him. His head banged into the banister. Tyler shrieked. Rachel screamed. Grabbing him with both hands, she yanked her baby over the banister and into her arms.

Tears of relief streamed down her face. Tyler clung to her. He buried his cheek in the crook of her neck and wrapped his short arms around her.

“I’ve got you now. It’ll be all right. Momma’s here.” Rachel kissed his wispy hair and praised the Lord. Tyler’s cries settled to an occasional sob. He plunged his thumb into his mouth as he held onto her. Rachel checked for any sign of injury. Besides a small bump on his forehead, he looked fine.

She glanced up at Dylan. “He’s all right.”

Dylan nodded, giving her a smile, then turning his attention to Yusuf. Rachel thought her husband looked like a lion ready to pounce.

“Nothing’s going to be all right,” Yusuf said behind her. “After I initiate the device, I will call our men back to the mansion. Then we will execute you and dump your bodies in the sea.” Yusuf turned to Ahmed. “With your permission?”

“Of course.” Ahmed smiled.

“Faster,” Chris commanded, urging everyone on their trek up the steep incline. Panting from exertion, he wouldn’t allow himself to slow the grueling pace. Every second counted. He had to reach them in time. If he were too late, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Alexis crept closer, gripping a wooden cane she had found in the office. Dylan caught her eye but no one else noticed her as they concentrated on the drama unfolding before them.

Yusuf laughed cruelly as he reached for the key. Dylan rushed at Ahmed, knocking the gun from his grasp.

Alexis sprinted for Yusuf, slamming the cane into his bandaged right arm.

Yusuf yelped, cursing in Arabic.

Raising the cane above her head again, Alexis hit Yusuf’s hand so hard she heard the bones shatter. The pain of impact showed on his face. The contraption flew from his hands.

Ahmed screamed in horror. Pushing Dylan out of the way, he lunged for the device as it crashed unceremoniously to Yusuf’s feet. Everyone gasped. Alexis dove and came up with the contraption. Ahmed jumped at her.

“Stop,” Dylan commanded.

Ahmed took one look at Dylan’s gun and angry expression and stopped.

There was complete silence as they listened for someone in the next room to report in. Finally a voice in Arabic spoke but he was forming a question. Several other voices had the same lilt to them. The look on Ahmed’s face told it all. The weapons hadn’t fired. Alexis clung to the mechanism with sweat-slicked fingers.

Crash.

Doors flew open and panes of glass shattered, sending everyone diving for cover. Alexis wrapped her body around the device, hoping she wouldn’t fire it by accident.

Chris led the charge up the stairs. “Chris.” She almost choked on the name. Relief, longing, and the desire to launch herself into his arms overwhelmed her.