CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX JACK
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
J ACK
Jack scans the room for something he could use as a weapon, seeing only the knife block on the other side of the kitchen. “ Tell me where he is! I need to know Liam’s okay.”
“I said throw me your phone!” the man barks. “Now!”
Jack snatches his phone from the counter and tosses it toward his assailant before raising his trembling hands above his head.
The masked intruder flicks the nose of the gun toward the living room windows. “Close the blinds.”
Keeping his hands in the air, Jack takes careful steps over Sabrina’s body. Her eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. Horrified by the sight, Jack wrenches his eyes away. When he reaches the living room wall, he flips the switch to lower the shades.
“Please.” Jack faces the man as the shades begin to close. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it,” he pleads as the tall man dressed in black steps farther into the light. Jack’s gaze drifts to the growing pool of blood around Sabrina’s head, now seeping beneath the legs of the baby grand, then back to the intruder. “Just let my baby live.” He chokes back a sob, unable to keep the fear from his voice. Fear not for himself, but from the sickening realization that Liam’s disappearance was carefully orchestrated. The reality hits him—Liam was abducted and kept somewhere on that flight where the crew hasn’t looked. And where he isn’t making any noise. “Can you at least tell me where he is? I’m begging you.”
“Shut up!” He points the pistol at Jack’s laptop on the marble countertop. “Sit down. You’ve got work to do.”
The man’s thick Brooklyn accent is not far from Jack’s own, making Jack wonder if Lionel hired him. Jack’s gaze returns to Sabrina’s lifeless form. But Lionel wouldn’t have his daughter killed. At least not on purpose.
“Okay. Okay.” He makes his way toward his laptop in silence, thinking that on the other hand, the fact that this guy is here—making demands—likely means that Liam will live.
Jack’s entire body trembles as he sits on the barstool above Sabrina’s lifeless form, bleeding out on the floor. I’m sorry, Sabrina. So, so sorry. The masked intruder creeps toward him, keeping his gun outstretched. Jack dares to look at him. He’s close enough now for Jack to see that his eyes are brown.
Jack notes that Sabrina’s killer is keeping his balaclava on despite the windows being covered so no one can see inside. Hopefully, it means he isn’t planning to kill Jack as soon as he’s done complying with his demands.
The intruder steps closer, stopping when the tip of the silencer is a few inches from Jack’s temple. He lays a paper on the counter and points a gloved finger at the printed numbers on the top of the page.
“If you want your son to make it off that flight alive, you’ll transfer ten million from each of your five largest client accounts into this account.”
Jack can tell by the three-digit bank code and nine-digit account number that it’s a foreign account, but he’s not sure which country. He thinks maybe Singapore. Or possibly Japan.
He sits frozen, staring at the account numbers, aware of his childhood friend lying dead on the floor beside his chair. She and Lionel had nothing to do with Liam’s kidnapping. Which means Liam is in the hands of—
The burly man grabs a fistful of Jack’s hair, yanking his head back. He thrusts the silencer into Jack’s throat, beneath his jaw. “You want me to blow your fuckin’ head off or you want your kid to live?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it!”
Sabrina’s killer shoves Jack’s head forward and releases his hair. Jack coughs as the man withdraws the gun from his neck.
Jack’s fingers fumble across his keyboard, and it takes him three attempts to get into his account. Once he’s logged in, sweat drips down the side of his face, even though he’s still in only his underwear in the air-conditioned condo.
“Calm down. We don’t need you screwin’ this up.”
Jack breathes deep and accesses Malcolm Zeller’s account first. He slides the paper toward him and types in the account number for the transfer. He pauses before putting in the bank code, overwhelmed by a surge of panic. How is Liam’s abductor on the flight going to give Liam back without getting caught? What if Liam is only being kept alive until Jack transfers the funds?
“Let’s go.” The intruder pokes Jack’s shoulder with the gun barrel.
Jack moves his hands away from the keyboard. “How do I know that my son is still alive?”
The large man tilts his ski-masked head to the side and cracks a sadistic smile. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”
He glances at Sabrina’s blood seeping around the legs of his barstool. “No. I want proof of life before I move the money.”
The killer lets out a raspy laugh. “You ain’t the one in charge. Move the money. Or your kid dies.”
Jack grits his teeth. “I want to see a photo of Liam alive on that plane.”
The balaclava’s mouth hole exposes the guy’s smirk. “Don’t got one.”
“I can’t transfer that much out of my clients’ accounts without it getting flagged.”
The man lowers his elbows onto the countertop, bringing his face toward Jack’s. “Don’t play games with me. I know you can move a lot more than that. But we’re tryin’ not to attract attention. How about this: I’ll get you a photo of your dead baby if you don’t transfer the money right now .”
Jack gulps and replaces his hands on the keyboard. “All right. I’m doing it.” What other choice does he have? With shaking hands, he schedules the transfer of $10 million from Malcolm’s account.
The masked man straightens and moves directly behind Jack. “I need to see confirmation of each transfer.”
“That’s the first one.”
The man’s breath is warm on Jack’s neck as Jack opens his next-biggest client account.
“You’ve only done one? What’s takin’ so long?”
“I’m going as fast as I can. Breathing down my neck isn’t helping.” Jack’s pulse pounds in his ears as he wrestles with the reason why the man won’t give him proof that Liam is alive. “Just let me think!”
Jack carefully types in the account number and schedules a second transfer of $10 million. The money won’t reach this foreign bank account before the flight lands at LaGuardia. Are they really going to let Liam go before the money reaches their account?
Jack chews the inside of his lip as he initiates the transfer from his third-biggest client account, fearing they aren’t planning to return Liam before the plane lands.
The FBI will be meeting the flight on the ground. There’s no way Liam’s abductor will escape with him in their luggage—dead or alive. The FBI won’t let anyone go until they find Liam. Plus, the flight will land in plenty of time for Jack to cancel the transfers before business hours. It doesn’t make sense.
The butt of the gun comes down hard on the back of Jack’s skull. He cries out from the shock of the blow as pain radiates through his head.
“Hurry up!”
Jack winces. “I’m going as fast as I can. You’re not helping!” He motions to the barstool beside him. “Sit down, why don’t you? I can’t think with you hovering over me.” Or with his childhood friend lying dead at his feet. “And this will take a while. I still have a ways to go.”