Authors: C. De Melo
“I see…”
She looked at me archly. “Goodnight, Zoë.”
Bushra left and locked the door behind her from the outside. I was trapped.
I stood in the center of the room for a long moment just listening for anything that would help me discern where I was or what was going on. After several minutes of silence, I looked around the room. It contained a double bed and solid wood furniture that appeared to be very heavy. Not only were the windows in the room bolted, they had metal bars over the glass panes. Another door led into a tiny bathroom covered in white subway tiles. There was no mirror and only one bar of soap still wrapped in paper on the sink’s edge. There was no mirror in the bedroom, either. They had cleverly avoided putting anything in this ‘prison’ that could be potentially used as a weapon or a tool to commit suicide.
I washed my
face in the bathroom sink with cold water, and then removed my red ballerina flats. I kept the black cotton top and slim black pants I was wearing in the event the men outside the door had to come into the room for any reason. My bare feet felt good against the cold tile floor. I walked to the window and looked out, but all I could see was the black outline of trees against the night sky. The waning moon was just a sliver. Tomorrow morning I would be able to see more.
Sighing in frustration, I wandered to
the nightstand. There were three books piled upon it- an English version of the Quran, a copy of Jane Eyre and a biography of President Richard Nixon.
What an odd selection
.
I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my hands through my hair. My mind raced
with dozens of questions and probabilities. I couldn’t stop thinking about Maria. She fell to the ground after Naomi shot her; was she dead or was she wounded?
I
was exhausted so I stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I tried to piece together the information I had gathered from Lance and Brady: a group of billionaire oil sheiks (aka: Mr. X) were against the ALTSYS clean energy plan the UAN was intent on adopting. The South American Z-Lab headquarters was vandalized recently (more than once) and someone broke into our home to ransack Michael’s office. Was Majed responsible for either or both? I had seen him in Rio with my husband…and what about Bushra? She insinuated that she worked for Mr. X; does that mean Majed does, too?
I didn’t know whether my abduction had to do with ALTSYS and Mr. X or the lab reports for the creation of the pod virus that Lance and I found in the mysterious trunk. Perhaps it was something altoge
ther different since Michael was involved in so many ‘questionable business practices’ (as Majed had eloquently stated earlier).
I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of Lance. I wish there was some way I could
contact him, but Bushra confiscated my wrist-phone.
***
It was almost one o’clock in the morning when Brady parked the car at the top of the gravel driveway leading to the house where Zoë was being held prisoner. He did not dare to continue down the long drive in the woods for fear that someone would hear the engine and the crunching sound of tires on stones. An unmarked van followed closely behind.
Brady
looked at Lance, who sat in the passenger seat. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait here?”
“Positive
,” Lance firmly replied.
“You’d be better off keeping your ass in the c
ar.”
Lance turned around to face the woman in the backseat. Maria- or rather, Yolanda- was glaring at him. He
was still getting over the shock that Brady had planted an agent in his brother’s house and never said a word about it. Yolanda’s role was to infiltrate the Adams household and get close to Michael. By impersonating a housekeeper, Yolanda gleaned a lot of useful information; especially when Michael drank too much or basked in the afterglow of lustful sex. The seasoned CIA agent played on her employer’s male ego and was quick to take action by initiating an illicit affair.
When Yolanda overheard
Zoë’s conversation with Bushra about meeting at the gallery, she instinctively knew something was up and decided to follow her ‘employer.’ She had prudently donned a bullet-proof vest before getting out the car - just in case things got nasty. Good thing she did. Aside from a nasty bruise in the center of her chest, she was fine. Luckily, she had also managed to attach a tiny tracking device to the undercarriage of the white Jaguar just before Bushra and Zoë came outside.
“Thanks for the concern,
Yolanda
,” he said, using her real name for the first time. “But there’s no way I’m going to just sit here while Zoë is being held captive.”
Yolanda look
ed at Brady. “Why did you have to tell him about her being kidnapped, anyway?”
Brady sighed and looked at his colleague
through the rear view mirror. “Because he loves her; you know that.” Yolanda rolled her eyes and he continued, “Besides, she put herself at risk more than once to help us out. So has Lance, who- by the way- knows how to take care of himself.”
“Has Michael made contact with them yet?” she demanded.
“He’s on his way here now to negotiate a deal for his wife’s release.”
Yolanda nodded.
“Good. Let’s get this over with- I’m sick to death of him and this fucking case.”
The three of them
waited in the darkness until Michael’s car came to a stop in front of the house. He was driving one of his more conservative vehicles- a shiny black BMW with tinted windows. They watched as he cut the lights, got out and walked up the stairs to the front door.
Brady ha
nded Lance a loaded gun. “I’m with Yolanda on this one. I think it’s better if you stay, but I’m not going to argue with you. I assume you know how to use one of these.”
“You bet,” Lance assured, taking the gun.
Brady, Yolanda and Lance got out of the car quietly and waited while the SWAT team members got out of the van and strategically assembled themselves into formation. They were silent, heavily armed and dressed in black. The agents had the house surrounded within a few minutes.
As suspected,
armed guards were posted outside. The SWAT team managed to silently apprehend those who guarded the grounds, but as soon as they entered the house an alarm was tripped and guns were fired.
***
I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to the sound of a blaring alarm and gunshots. It took a moment for my muddled brain to realize the shots were coming from outside the house. I ran to the window and saw dark shadows moving haphazardly throughout the grounds. The outdoor lights were on and I noticed a man on the ground bleeding badly. I slipped my feet into my shoes and tried to open the bedroom door (even though I knew it was locked). I sat on the bed and anxiously waited for what would happen next. There was running, shouts and more gunfire. It was not long before someone unlocked the bedroom door. It was Al Majed and Bushra. I stood up to face them as they walked into the room.
“Bring her downstairs,” Majed said
.
Bushra
waved a gun at me. “Come on!”
I
instinctively shrank back, causing Bushra to grab my arm with surprising force. She shoved me forward and I stumbled. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she warned.
We went
downstairs and I came to a sudden halt when I caught sight of the living room. Michael, Lance, Brady and two SWAT members were on their knees with their hands interlocked behind their heads. Majed’s guards stood around the room with weapons aimed at the kneeling men. Lance caught my eye as Bushra pushed me into the center of the room.
“Princess, don’t be scared,” Michael said.
“Shut up,” Bushra cried, nostrils flaring. “You were instructed to come alone. You disobeyed, and now you will pay the price for your foolishness.”
Michael’s brow creased in worry. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone-”
“Cease!” Bushra hissed. “What do you take me for, Michael? A fool?”
“If the shoe fits,” Lance whispered.
Michael glared at his younger brother. “Shut up, Lance. Stay out of this.”
Majed laughed. “Too late.” He turned to Bushra. “Don’t you see what’s going
on here?”
She shook her head. “No…”
“
Michael Adams got sold out by his own brother,” Majed hissed. “Wait here and don’t do anything until I get back.”
Majed walked out. Bushra spoke to the guards in Arabic and then looked a
t me. “And what about you? Were you spying on your husband, too?”
“No,” Brady replied on my behalf
.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Bushra retorted, still looking at me. “Well?”
I shook my head because I wasn’t capable of lying under this kind of pressure.
Majed entered the room with a furious expression. He held up his hand to show Bushra the tin
y tracking device. “This was stuck to the undercarriage of your car.”
She gaped at him, askance. “Impossible!
” she cried in outrage.
Majed
closed the gap between them with angry strides and slapped her hard across the face. “It was
you
who led the police to our door because of your carelessness,” he shouted. “This is the reason why I was against working with you- women cannot be trusted! They are foolish, weak and stupid!”
He then began
to yell in Arabic and Bushra’s eyes widened in panic. “No, please…I beg you!” she cried desperately.
Ignoring her
pleas for mercy, Majed gave his men the signal. They took aim at Bushra and fired their guns. Since she was standing only a meter away from where I stood, I let out an involuntary scream. I watched in horror as Bushra’s body was riddled with bullets and fell to the floor. Blood began to pool beneath her wounds while she stared blankly at the ceiling. I was shaking so badly that my knees became weak. I moved towards the banister and took hold of it in order to steady myself. I wretched and heaved several times, but I didn’t vomit.
“And now I have to decide what to do with all of you,” Majed said calmly, as though nothing
horrific had just happened.
I was convinced he was a psychopath.
“It would be foolish of you to kill us,” Brady said reasonably.
I was amazed by his calm demeanor in the face of such gratuitous violence,
and then I remembered that Brady had been a U.S. Marine for two decades. I was willing to bet everything I owned that he’d seen much worse scenarios than this one.
“
You are mistaken. It would be foolish of me to
not
kill you,” Majed contradicted.
Brady’s response to that was a casual shrug.
“You won’t get away with it, you know. The remaining SWAT team is outside calling for back-up as we speak,” he pointed out. “You’ll never leave this house alive.”
“That may be true,” Majed agreed
with a determined gleam in his eye. “But there are causes worth dying for and my people have been known to sacrifice their lives for what they believe in. I am no exception.”
I was horrified
by his words. Lance’s expression was sad when I captured his gaze. We both knew in that moment that there was the possibility of one or both of us dying tonight. The pang of regret that shot through me made my heart ache.
Suddenly, one of the
armed guards standing behind the SWAT members fell to the floor with a hard thud, then another.
“In the name of Allah, what is this?
” Majed exclaimed before watching in shock as all of them followed suit.
Majed fe
ll, then Brady, then Lance. I was about to run over to Lance to see if he was alive when I experienced a strong dizzy spell. A strange tingling sensation overtook my limbs, making them feel as heavy as lead. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was Lance’s serene face and I was happy for that last memory. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.
***
Everything was black but I was aware of sounds; muffled noises that came from far away. My head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. I heard voices, footsteps and wind (in that order). I opened one eye and saw the moon and the spindly shadows of trees. I could also see red and blue lights flashing against the tree trunks and the side of the house. The sight of the latter brought me back to the present instantly.
“
Zoë? Can you hear me?
”
I
was stretched out on the soft grass with a blanket over me. I shivered. Something was crawling on my hand. It was a cricket. This made me smile. In Asia, crickets were considered good luck.
“My lucky cricket,” I
murmured, wiggling my fingers and scaring away the insect.
“Thank God you’re okay
.”
Lance
’s blue eyes were staring down at me. When I smiled at him, he smiled back with that endearing dimple of his. I threw my arms around his neck and he held me tightly.