by Richard Bard
“He got away,” Ahmed gasped.
Lacey said, “Which means Alex must be with him.”
“It’s moving,” Sarafina said. “Across the park. Fast.”
Tony clapped once. “Too fast to be running. He grabbed a vehicle.”
The icon moved onto the streets at the other end of the park, and as it sped toward the outskirts of town, Francesca allowed herself to breathe again. The icon stopped at the fenced edge of an airport, and then proceeded at a much slower pace onto the grounds behind a line of hangars.
“He’s going to steal an airplane,” Marshall said.
“Of course he is,” Lacey said.
Sarafina squeezed her mother’s hand. “They’re safe. Coming home.”
Ten minutes later the icon increased speed down the runway, and Francesca knew everything was going to be all right.
“Wait a second,” Marshall said. “He’s heading the wrong way.”
***
Ahmed’s frustration grew as he watched his mom bury her face in her hands. They’d been monitoring Dad’s signal for the past thirty minutes. It had flickered on and off several times, and now they feared it was off for good. Even so, the track of the airplane had been well established. Dad was heading south toward Brazil, and supposedly Alex was with him. Marshall had explained the tracker was dependent on available Wi-Fi or cellular signal, and that once the plane was over uninhabited terrain, the tracker would no longer transmit. The region was a vast rainforest.
“Call him again,” Lacey said, referring to the satellite phone Jake had brought with him. Marshall had already called twice.
“It’s no use,” Marshall said. “He either doesn’t have the sat phone or he’s switched it off.”
“Where the hell is he going?” Tony asked.
“And why didn’t he call us?” Lacey added.
The same questions kept rolling around in Ahmed’s mind. It didn’t make sense. While they’d waited for the signal to come back, Marshall had uncovered breaking news reports in Bogota about the crime scene where Jake had been held captive. There were dead bodies everywhere, including that of a teenage American boy, and hints of a connection with a human trafficking ring. But Dad and Alex weren’t mentioned, and that fueled their belief the two had made it out of there safely. But wouldn’t they have headed home after their escape?
“It has something to do with the visions,” Sarafina said.
Everyone stared at Sarafina.
“What else could it be?” Sarafina continued. “Think about it, Mom. Dad’s gone through a lot since the three of us found that first pyramid, but he’s never had visions before. But it was a vision that allowed him to figure out that Alex was in Bogota, and you’ve got to know that it had something to do with the mini. Do you remember how he simply brushed past the topic of visions when he bolted out of here?”
Francesca nodded.
“He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. We were all still in a state of shock that he was even alive, or you would’ve pressed him on it, right? I mean, come on, he has visions for the first time ever. What’s that all about?”
“She’s right,” Ahmed said. “Dad was hiding something.”
Mom’s lips tightened. She shook her head. “More damn secrets.”
Lacey said, “Maybe so. But after everything we’ve been through together, you can bet he kept it from us for a good reason.”
“No reason is good enough,” Mom said. “Not anymore.”
“It must be something big if he’s willing to put us through hell while he deals with it,” Marshall said. “As usual, he wants to keep us out of harm’s way.”
Mom glared. “So he takes our youngest child with him?”
Tony said, “He wouldn’t do that unless he was forced to. But if you’re right that this has something to do with the miniature pyramid, then it makes sense that Alex is dead in the middle of it, too. He was connected to the grid every bit as much as Jake.”
“You think this is about the grid…?” Mom’s voice trailed off, and everyone became quiet as the possibility sank in.
Tony was the first to break the silence. “Screw this. Jake needs help.” He grabbed one of the encrypted phones and left the room.
“What’s that about?” Marshall asked.
“It’s time to reach out to our friends,” Lacey said, grabbing another phone and punching in a number.
A half hour later, Tony had a duffel slung over his shoulder and the keys to the pickup truck in his hand. He wore sunglasses and the fishing cap he’d found in the motor home.
“Bring them home to us, Tony,” Mom said.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Sarafina gave the big man a hug. “You don’t even know where Dad and Alex are going.”
“I will as soon as your pop switches that sat phone back on, right, Marsh?”
“Yep. Or when he comes in range of Wi-Fi or a cell tower. I’ll let you know the instant that happens.”
Sarafina stepped back, and Tony turned to face Ahmed, who stood by the door with his arms crossed. He’d pleaded to go along but Tony had refused, giving him some bull about staying behind to protect his mom and sister.
Tony held out his hand. A part of Ahmed wanted to shove it away, but he wouldn’t allow himself to disrespect Tony in that way. The man was headed into unknown territory to save Ahmed’s father and brother. Tony was a warrior, and Ahmed had learned when he was a child in the mountains of Afghanistan that such men deserved respect.
He clasped Tony’s wrist in a soldier’s handshake. It was the type of interaction normally reserved for a fellow soldier, and even if Tony didn’t recognize Ahmed as such, he knew in his gut it was so.
“You honor us all, Tony. May Allah protect you.”
The gaze Ahmed received in return meant a lot to him. But it wasn’t the man-to-man exchange he yearned for, and Ahmed promised himself that one day he’d earn the warrior’s full respect.
###
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Author Bio
Richard Bard draws on his own experiences as a former USAF pilot and cancer survivor to craft compelling characters who risk it all for love and loyalty. Born in Munich, Germany, to American parents, he joined the United States Air Force like his father, but left the service when he was diagnosed with cancer and learned he had only months to live. He earned a management degree from the University of Notre Dame and ran three successful companies involving advanced security products used by US embassies and governments worldwide. Now a full-time writer, he lives with his wife in Redondo Beach, California, and remains in excellent health.
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