Traci and Geanie both began to cry. They reached out to Cindy, but she shook off their hands. She stepped even closer to Martin.
“This had better not be another trick like last time,” she hissed.
Martin shook his head. “It’s not, Cindy. There’s nothing to be gained here. And you know I was against leaving you in the dark overseas.”
“Take me there right now,” she said, fury in her voice.
“I can’t do that.”
“The hell you can’t. You’re C.I.A.. You can, and you will.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then let me make it simple for you. Either you take me there right now or when I get out of here I’ll go to the press with what really happened in Jerusalem.”
“You took an oath of secrecy,” Martin said.
“Do I look like I care?” Cindy asked.
“She doesn’t,” Mark spoke up. “Trust me, last time I saw her like this Jeremiah had to end up taking her to Jerusalem with him.”
Martin lowered his voice. “I like you, Cindy, I really do, but don’t force my hand. Neither of us will like where that leads.”
“You owe me.”
“If Jeremiah is still alive then it’s still too dangerous for you to be out there.”
“And if he’s not then you’re going to have to let me go anyway. And, you think he’s dead, so…”
Mark could tell she’d backed the man into a corner. Just when he thought that Martin was going to cave, he instead turned on his heel and left. The door closed and locked firmly behind him.
Cindy let out a scream of frustration.
“You did your best,” he said quietly.
“Oh, I’m not done yet,” she said, turning around. “I’m going to get out of here one way or another.”
“Given that he’s dead the nightmare is over. Shouldn’t they let us go now?” Carol asked.
Mark winced. He was pretty sure that she hadn’t meant it the way it came out. At least, he really hoped for her sake that she hadn’t. He braced himself for what was going to happen next.
The explosion came, but from a different direction than he had expected. Traci took an angry step toward Carol. “How dare you say that about him? He was a hero and our friend!”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Carol snapped. “But he was hardly a hero. He was a common murderer.”
Traci moved like lightning, and before anyone could stop her, she slapped Carol as hard as she could. Kyle leaped forward to defend his mom, and Traci spun and punched him in the eye. He howled in pain.
Mark had never seen such violence from his wife and he stared in shock, rooted to the ground. Joseph reached her before anyone else could and he pulled Traci into a fierce hug. She collapsed against him sobbing as Geanie hovered nearby, glaring daggers at Carol and Kyle.
Carol spun toward her husband. “Are you going to let them do that?” she demanded.
He grimaced. “Frankly, you’re lucky it wasn’t your daughter who did that,” he said.
“Her?” Carol scoffed, waving toward Cindy. “She’s scared of her own shadow. Not like-”
She stopped speaking suddenly but Mark had a feeling she had been about to compare Cindy to Kyle. Or worse, to her dead sister, Lisa.
Don looked pained. “I know you stopped paying attention a long time ago, but you really should see the person Cindy’s become. She’s remarkable.”
“She’s stupid. She’s planning to marry some idiot with no money, no prospects, and who would have spent his life in prison if he hadn’t been killed!” Carol yelled.
It was like watching a car crash and being helpless to do anything to stop it.
“You take that back! All of it,” Geanie shouted.
Ryan and Rachel both started crying. He should go to them. He should stop the fighting. He should do something. A decade and a half as a cop and he’d never frozen in the face of danger before. Now he just stared, horrified, as violence was erupting around him. And all he could think over and over was that Jeremiah couldn’t be dead.
“I’m glad he’s dead!” Kyle shouted, still clutching his eye.
Traci turned, jumped out of Joseph’s arms, and knocked Kyle to the ground. She straddled him and began hitting him some more. Don and Joseph shouted, surging forward to try and break it up while Geanie screamed at Traci to hit him some more.
Suddenly two big guys in dark suits shoved past him. One of them wrapped his arms around Traci’s waist and literally picked her up in the air, peeling her off of Kyle. The other barked at Kyle to stay down as he got between Geanie and Kyle.
Everyone was shouting louder. The babies were screaming now. Don and Joseph were urging calm, but had to yell to make themselves heard. Geanie and Traci were out for blood. Kyle and Carol were both ranting like lunatics. And he was just standing there watching. And Cindy…
He turned his head with a frown. Cindy was…
He spun around and saw the open door behind him. Cindy was gone.
~
Jeremiah was in trouble. He’d barely made it out of the exploding building with his life. As it was his collarbone on the left side was broken and the pain was overwhelming. Most of his left arm was useless because of it. He’d managed to wrap up his hand and get the bleeding stopped from the two severed fingers.
He was holed up in the men’s room of the church next door to the check cashing place. He’d managed to get in there and he’d used the sink and a first aid kit he’d found to take care of himself as best he could. He had heard fire trucks arrive on the scene. He waited until he could slip away without being spotted.
Part of him wanted nothing more than to go outside, have the firemen call an ambulance and go to a hospital. It would be tantamount to suicide, though.
The men who were after him had planned it all. It was possible they’d even murdered the teller as a way of getting his attention when they were ready. They couldn’t have known that Mark and he were so busy with a different case that they wouldn’t even have heard about the murder.
He must have tripped some sort of sensor when he went into the building. They’d sent two men in with the hope of shooting him, but had been prepared to blow themselves up if need be. At least, Shirazi had been prepared to do that. It was possible that his comrade hadn’t been aware of the full extent of the plan. He hadn’t seemed to know for sure that Jeremiah was there whereas Shirazi had seemed to know. Shirazi had a switch that could control both bombs. It was also likely rigged so that if his heart stopped they would explode.
He’d started running a second before Shirazi could detonate the bombs. It hadn’t been enough to escape the blast, though. Twisted, broken metal had fallen on his hand after he hit the floor, taking the ring and middle fingers of his left hand at the knuckle. There were burns and lacerations all over his back and legs. Some of it was incredibly painful. In other parts the nerve endings had been seared and he couldn’t feel anything.
The lack of feeling had made it that much more important that he could use the mirrors in the bathroom to inspect his back and make sure he wasn’t bleeding without knowing it. He couldn’t risk dying that way.
He sat on the floor of the bathroom panting, trying to get up the strength to leave. There were five more men out there who wanted him dead and they wouldn’t stop until they were sure that it had happened. As soon as the firemen cleared out they’d be making their own inspection looking for bodies. Given that both their men had been ground zero for such a strong blast it was unlikely that they’d find anything left of them. And finding Jeremiah’s severed fingers wouldn’t be enough to satisfy them. They’d keep searching until they were sure.
If he was them this church would be the first place he’d look. That was why he had to move even if he didn’t have the strength to. More than that, though, he had to think. It did no good to move if he just moved into another trap. They’d had a year to plan how they were going to take him down. Why go to
such lengths he didn’t know. They could have taken him out with a sniper rifle any time he showed up at the synagogue.
They want me to know who they are. They want to see my face and have me see theirs.
It was the only thing that made sense. This vendetta for them was more than operatives hunting down someone from the other side. This was deeply personal for them. It was rapidly becoming personal for him as well.
He was so grateful that Martin had agreed to put everyone into protective custody. He couldn’t bear the thought of Cindy or any of the others being used as bait or ending up as collateral damage.
The only thing he knew about the others was that at least one of them would be there shortly to inspect the site. He had to be ready when they came. He needed to have the upper hand.
Using his good hand and holding onto a sink he hauled himself to his feet. The staff of the church would have a heck of a mess to clean up when they got back to work. There was blood all over the bathroom at this point. There was nothing he could do about it. He promised himself that if he made it through alive he’d give the church a small donation. They deserved it for providing sanctuary in his time of greatest need.
He made it out of the bathroom, struggling with wooziness as he did so. He needed to find a good vantage point to spy on whoever came to see their handiwork. He needed a place they wouldn’t be likely to search, too.
The hotel across the street would be ideal, but he didn’t think he’d be able to make it to a good spot without raising some alarms. He couldn’t just check in given the shape he was in. As soon as anyone spotted him they’d see blood and they’d call the police.
He made it outside and his eyes fell on a car that was parked halfway up the block, the trunk facing toward the ruins of the check cashing building. There was some debris that had fallen on top of it. He’d noticed it earlier as well. Given its location he suspected that it might have belonged to the teller who had been killed in the store.
He walked as quickly as he could toward the car, trying to keep himself conscious and walking a straight line. Once at the car he tried the doors but discovered that they were locked. He cursed silently since he couldn’t pick the lock without the use of both hands. He went around to the back and slid his hand underneath the car. Finally, his fingers brushed against a small box.
Relief surged through him as he pulled the box from its hiding place. It had attached to the car through use of a magnet and inside was a spare key. Jeremiah offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for G-d’s provision as he used the key to get into the trunk.
Fortunately, the trunk was mostly empty. There was an emergency kit, jumper cables, and a pack of bottled water back there.
He crawled in and was able to lower it enough that it would appear closed at a glance, but he still had a slit to look through. He was able to open one of the water bottles and he drank as much as he dared. He couldn’t risk dehydration on top of everything else.
The pain in his collarbone and hand was so intense that he wanted to scream. The burned skin that still had feeling chafed at the tightness of the quarters and he could feel the air around him heating up which made things even more unbearable.
He’d already taken painkillers from the church’s first aid kit and he dared not take anymore. If he did this right he could use the pain to his advantage. Just enough pain kept him conscious and alert. Too much pain would knock him out or render him delirious. It was a delicate balance. Fortunately, it was not the first time he’d had to play this particular game with himself.
Now he just had to wait. And stay alive while he did so. He tried to focus on the terrorists, thinking about what their next moves would be. He was having a hard time concentrating, though, and he felt himself starting to drift. He shifted slightly allowing the friction against his burned skin to spike his pain levels slightly.
Cindy’s face came to mind and he fixated on that instead. He had to get through this for her sake. He imagined their wedding day and what it would be like. She would make a gorgeous bride. He’d had a sneak peek of that at Joseph and Geanie’s wedding. He would have known it was true even if he hadn’t.
He wondered what dress she would get, what the design would be. She looked great in anything she wore but he found himself hoping that the neckline was low and not high. He could see her in something with short sleeves revealing her beautiful arms.
In his imagination she was wearing her hair up with some flowers in it. Her lips were red as roses and her eyes danced like they did when she was laughing and happy.
It was good to think of the future, of all the reasons why he had to make it out of this mess. He needed to protect her, and their life together. He couldn’t let anyone take that away from them. Not terrorists or spy organizations or pastors or family members.
He was starting to drift again, and he was just about to shift positions when he heard the sound of a car approaching. It was slowing down. Moments later it stopped several feet away. He watched as four Iranian men got out of the car.
He’d found them.
And then, as one turned his head sharply toward Jeremiah’s hiding place he realized in horror that they’d found him.
13
As the agents had rushed in to halt the fighting among the others, Cindy had seen her chance and she’d slipped out of the door and ran down the corridor. She made it to the parking garage and ran toward an exit. Her heart was pounding, and her broken arm jostled painfully, shooting fire through her with every step. She wouldn’t stop or slow down, though. She couldn’t.
Jeremiah needs me.
She had no idea where he was, but somehow she would find him.
The parking garage which hadn’t looked that big the night before seemed to take forever to run across. With every step she expected to hear shouting. She figured she only had a few seconds before they realized she had escaped. She was almost to an exit when she heard the sound of a car approaching. She jumped behind a pillar just as a car pulled into the garage.
She moved slowly around the pillar, trying to keep it between her and the car. Finally, she was on the side closest to the exit. As soon as she left the safety of the pillar she risked being seen in the rearview mirror. Of course, she couldn’t stay there forever because any second the guards would come running with the news that she had escaped.
She was about twenty-five feet away from the street. She took a deep breath, pushed off the pillar, and ran without looking back. She kept expecting to hear something, waited for the car to come zooming after her or to hear footsteps and shouting.
As soon as she was out of the structure she turned to her right. She ran up to the corner and took another right, trying to keep the building between her and her pursuers as long as she could. Once she was halfway down the block she ran across the street, praying that she could make it out of sight before they rounded the corner. When she made it to the next intersection, she turned left and dashed up a couple of yards.
There was a small hedge of bushes surrounding a tree which offered some shelter. She crouched down behind them as she struggled to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode, and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air. She couldn’t remember ever having felt so bad after a run in her entire life. She started to feel light-headed and she realized she was gulping the air instead of just breathing.
Don’t hyperventilate, she begged herself. That was the last thing she needed. If she passed out they would catch her and there would be no second chances at escape. She was very sure about that.
Just breathe. Don’t pass out.
It felt like she was going to. She was angry at herself for being out of shape.
Serious gym time for me if I get out of this, she vowed.
Of course, she was injured and running on empty. She hadn’t had any sleep and the few mouthfuls of Froot Loops she’d managed to get down hadn’t been enough to fuel her up.
She kept
straining her eyes and ears, trying to catch signs of pursuit. Of course, the way the blood was pounding in her ears she didn’t have a shot at hearing pursuers coming after her.
God, please protect me, hide me, she prayed.
Her throat was dry, and it felt like the air was just hurting it more. Finally, though, her heart and breathing began to slow and she felt less light-headed. Her arm was throbbing uncontrollably, but there was nothing she could do about it at the moment.
She’d been lucky when Traci started the fight. She had barely heard what the other woman was screaming, but Cindy had seen when the two agents came through the door and she knew she’d never have a better chance at escape. She’d hoped that there weren’t other agents in the hall and she’d been right. It would have only taken seconds, though, for them to realize she was gone.
Suddenly she heard a sound. She tried to still herself as best as she could, shrinking down even lower behind the bushes. She heard running footsteps. They were getting closer. Then, just when she thought she was about to be discovered, the footsteps stopped.
“Negative, I don’t see her,” a man said, voice calm and clear. “I don’t know which way she went.”
He couldn’t have been more than half a dozen feet away. She wished more than anything she could hold her breath so that it wouldn’t betray her, but she was struggling to get oxygen as it was.
“She’ll never make it on foot.”
Make it where? Where did they think she was heading? A moment later she realized they must be referencing where she was in relation to where Jeremiah was. Or, at least, where he had last been seen.
“Understood. I’m heading back now,” the man said, frustration clear in his voice.
Getting outwitted by a civilian clearly didn’t sit well with him, which made Cindy smile a little.
After a few moments she heard the footsteps retreat. Once she could no longer hear them she began to relax. She moved farther away from the building, making a few turns as she tried to get as much distance between her and her captors. She figured if she wound through the streets it would make it harder for them to find her than if she just picked a street and kept moving down it.
In the Presence of Mine Enemies Page 10