Brainrush 03 - Beyond Judgment (33 page)

Victor turned away.

The boy’s expression chilled him.

Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius—and a lot of courage—to move in the opposite direction.

—Albert Einstein

Geneva, Switzerland

J
AKE DUCKED OUT
of view of the peephole. Ahmed did the same. They were in the hallway outside the door to the safe house. Voices inside the room had startled them. They flattened themselves on either side of the doorway and listened. The voices were muffled. Male and female. Jake edged forward in a crouch and placed his ear against the wood. It took a second for his belief system to acknowledge what he was hearing. He stared wide-eyed at Ahmed.

Then he rose and knocked on the door.

There was a woman’s yelp inside, pounding feet, a man’s warning shout, and then the door flew open.

Jake was stunned. He had never seen a more beautiful sight. Francesca stood framed in the doorway. Her gaze had been aimed downward, as if she’d been expecting someone shorter. When she realized it was him, the hopeful expression on her tear-streaked face turned to shock. Her body tensed and her eyes darted to Ahmed. She lurched forward and looked down either side of the hall. Then she grabbed Ahmed and drew him into a desperate embrace.

“I thought you were dead!” she said. Ahmed stiffened under the assault, but he didn’t push her off. “Where are Sarafina and Alex?” she asked.

“They’re not here?” Ahmed replied.

Francesca’s face turned pale. She turned to Jake. Her expression pleaded for an answer.

Jake shook his head, tight-lipped.

She rushed into his arms and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her shoulders hitched from silent sobs. The rest of his friends stood in a semicircle behind her. He could hardly believe it. He’d thought everyone in this room had been killed. He took them in one by one, awash with an overwhelming sense of hope. Tony nodded, Marshall grinned, and Lacey wiped away a tear. Timmy fidgeted like he wanted to exchange a high five.

Jake’s next words were intended for Francesca, but he spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. “We’ll find them. I promise.”

The words stilled her. She sniffled once and pulled back. Her eyes narrowed.

“Y-you spoke in English,” she said in a throaty voice.

“That’s right!” Ahmed said, pushing into the room. “Jake is back!” He stepped clear as everyone else surged forward with hand pats and hugs.

Francesca’s emotions roiled like opposing tidal wives. The only man she had ever loved stood next to her. He remembered everything. She clung to his arm. It should have been a joyful moment. Instead, her elation was smothered by concern for her father and fear for Sarafina and Alex.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Ahmed said. He paced back and forth among the group. He stared at the floor and shook his head from side to side as he spoke. “I told them to stay. Why would they leave? Where would they go? Why didn’t they listen? I told them I’d call. It’s not my fault. I shared my pastry. They should be here. It was my job to take care—”

He stopped abruptly when Francesca stepped forward and blocked his path. She knew he was reverting. She’d witnessed it many times before. Stress took him back to a time when he was a child.

He sidestepped her. “How come they could hear Jake but I couldn’t? It’s not fair. I’m the first one he ever talked to that way. I taught him Dari. Why—”

She moved in front of him again. He started to move around her.

“Flip it,” she said softly.

Ahmed stopped midstride. He lifted his gaze and glanced awkwardly at each of them. It was Tony who spoke first.

“I’m proud of you, pal,” he said, leading Ahmed toward the sitting area. “Let’s chill a minute over here.” The rest of them followed, except Timmy, who returned to the dining room table to examine the laptop and backup drive they’d taken from Victor’s residence.

Tony said, “How about you start by telling us how you got out of Venice?” He settled into one of the overstuffed chairs. His posture and demeanor made him appear relaxed and patient, but Francesca sensed the boiling anxiousness beneath the facade. The former special-ops sergeant knew a thing or two about interrogation, she thought. The others had picked up on it, too. Tension leaked from their expressions as they took their seats. She and Jake sat on the couch. Lacey and Marshall pulled up chairs from the dining room.

Ahmed preferred to stand. Sometimes, being center stage seemed to help him collect his thoughts.

“Start at the beginning,” Tony said.

Ahmed blew out a breath. Then he gave them the highlights of everything that had happened: the tale of their harrowing escape from the fire in the cellar, the old man who’d helped them with money and fake IDs, the train ride to the safe house. Francesca was amazed at their ingenuity. She’d always been proud of their
intellect, but the determination and courage they’d exhibited went beyond her expectations. She remembered something her father had told her long ago.
A person’s true character is revealed in the face of great danger.

Ahmed turned toward Jake. “We’d only been here a few minutes when Alex and Sarafina felt you…in their heads. They knew you were in trouble.”

Jake seemed to tense at the comment. Ahmed didn’t notice. Francesca did.

“Somehow Alex knew you were at the Palace of Nations,” Ahmed continued. “That’s why I left. I told them to stay here…” His voice trailed off. His head dropped.

“You saved my life,” Jake said. Ahmed looked up and locked eyes with him. Francesca felt his swell of pride.

“What about before that?” Tony asked.

Ahmed looked to the ceiling as he recalled events. “We got here right after you left,” he said. “The coffeepot was still warm. We saw where you went on Google Maps.”

Francesca’s breath caught in her throat. The others exchanged furtive glances.

Tony said, “You’re talking about Victor’s residence?”

“I guess. It was a mansion by the lake.” When he seemed to sense the mood change in the room, he quickly added, “I told them we
couldn’t
go there! We saw the empty ammunition boxes in the garbage. Why would they…” His voice caught, his eyes widened, and he looked out the picture window.

But Francesca was already three steps ahead of him. Her children had been alone when the sky had erupted in light. They would have known Uncle Tony was close by. They would have run to him.

Ahmed’s voice was pained. “But they shouldn’t have gone there. I told them it was dangerous. If anything went wrong, they were supposed to call me on the phone.”

“Phone?” Marshall and Timmy said simultaneously. Marshall stood so fast that Ahmed took a sudden step back.

“Uh, yeah. We picked up two pay-as-you-go phones before we left Venice.”

“Let me see,” Marshall said. The fingers of his hands twitched like a kid about to get a chocolate bar.

“It’s in my backpack,” Ahmed said, leading him toward the dining room.

Timmy’s fingers moved quickly over the computer keyboard as he hacked into the site he needed. He didn’t look up when he asked, “Do you remember their phone number?”

“Yes,” Ahmed said. “It’s programmed on that phone.”

“Excellent,” Marshall said, examining the phone. “Good, it’s GPS enabled.”

While the three of them huddled over the computer, the rest rose to their feet in the sitting area. Francesca leaned into Jake for support, one arm entwined in his.

“I thought the cell service was down,” Francesca said.

“It may be overloaded,” Jake said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s down.”

“As long as the battery is installed, they’ll be able to lock on to their location,” Lacey said. “They did that in my last film.” She took Francesca’s free hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

The swell of hope she felt was cut short by the grim expression on Tony’s face.

“What is it?” Francesca asked.

His lips thinned.

Tony’s hesitancy made her angry. She let go of Jake and Lacey and stepped to face him, hands on her hips. “The world is on fire, my father may be dead, for all I know, and my children are lost. I have no feelings left to spare, Tony. So don’t try.
Avete capito?
”

“Yeah, I understand. And you’re right. We’re all in this together, come hell or”—he pointed out the window toward the sky—“high water.” He waited a beat before continuing. His tone
stiffened. “As we were leaving the residence, more of Victor’s men were coming up the drive. Sarafina is a resourceful young girl, so I’m hoping she steered clear. But if she didn’t…”

Lacey said, “If those creeps took them, there’s no telling where they could be.”

“It doesn’t matter where they are,” Jake said evenly. There was a menacing edge to his voice that caused Francesca to flinch. His eyes seem to be focused a thousand miles away. The room quieted. Even the guys at the dining table stopped what they were doing.

“We’ll find them,” Jake said. “You have my word. If they avoided being taken at the residence, so much the better. But if Victor’s men did take them, know this—they won’t be harmed. At least not until Victor’s got me strapped in a chair to watch. And that’s okay, too. Because I intend to sit in that chair one last time anyway. I
will
save the children. And I
will
stop Victor Brun.”

Jake’s steeled gaze focused on each of them, one at a time. Francesca imagined it was the same expression that a defiant prisoner might have when spitting in the face of his executioner. His eyes didn’t soften until they settled on hers. He gripped her shoulders. The connection was instantaneous. He was in her mind; she was in his. It had been six years since she’d last been linked to him like this. But she hadn’t forgotten what it felt like: the power of his life force, the sense of peace, the intense attraction of spirit and body. Squeezing her flesh, he said, “Whatever it takes.”

He released her. The spell was broken. But the promise still warmed her blood.

Tony placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “And this time you ain’t going in alone,” he said.

“That’s right,” Lacey said, hands on her hips.

“Hell yes!” Marshall chimed in from the dining table.

Timmy high-fived him and said, “I’m in!”

Francesca wondered at Ahmed’s hesitation. He squared his shoulders and watched her. There was no fear emanating from him. Instead, she saw in him a strong sense of purpose. He seemed to be looking to her for something. She thought she understood. He held his fervor in check, awaiting her lead. Out of respect. Out of love. She nodded, more to herself than to him. Her jaw tightened. She wiped both eyes with a rough pull of her wrists. The time for crying had passed. She fixed her resolve, balled her fists, and said, “Whatever it takes!”

“Whatever it takes,” Ahmed said, his fist clenched overhead.

“Whatever it takes!” the rest of them shouted.