Chapter 22 #2
Thick, salty air pressed around them, buzzing with mission-ready tension.
Jason stepped closer to the group, jaw set, voice low.
"The plan is simple. Nash is going to talk to Chester and hand over the jewels.
Hopefully, Lena is released without incident.
Of course, I don't trust that it'll go down that smooth.
Whatever happens, Nash's objective is Lena.
And our objective," he circled his finger in the air to include Allie and Knox, "is securing Chester and the guards.
Once Lena is safe and there's no threat, we secure the jewels. "
"Got it," Knox said. Allie nodded.
Jason leveled his gaze at Nash for a few seconds.
"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Nash said.
"Wasn't going to. You ready? Got the jewels?"
Knox touched the bulge in his pocket. "Yes."
"Okay. Give us a head start. We'll keep ourselves hidden. You approach in ten minutes. Make sure he sees those jewels, since he's expecting to see Emil. As long as he sees his shiny prize, he'll talk to you. Just don't get too close," Jason said.
Nash almost rolled his eyes. "Not going to give him a chance to shoot me." He drew his gun. "Which is probably his plan. But I've met this guy. No way he can take me out at fifty yards in the dark."
And he wouldn't feel a bit nervous about facing a buffoon like Ed Chester if Lena's life weren't at risk. But it was. Which made even an amateur like Chester dangerous. He was unpredictable. And desperate. And had Lena tied to a chair.
The facts continued to cartwheel like shards of glass through his conscience. He pictured Lena's face just after he'd kissed her. And that was a mistake.
The what-ifs he'd been trained not to dwell on . . . the regrets and fears that should've been locked away . . . threatened to overwhelm him.
Until Jason's voice broke through. "Nash, we're going to get Lena out of there. Like you said, we've got good odds."
"I'd say great odds," Knox added.
Nash glanced at Knox, then Allie, then Jason. The confidence in their nods and the resolute assurance in their eyes reminded him that he wasn't doing this alone. God was with him. His team was with him.
And according to Cassidy, Lena figured that out before he did.
He gripped his weapon and gave his team a chin lift. "Let's move out."
Lena didn't try to fight her restraints.
After her shelf-toppling distraction and Cassidy's successful escape, Chester ordered Frank and Manny to bring her into the house and duct-tape her to a chair.
Humiliated by her stunt, they took out their frustrations on her by using an entire roll of duct tape.
They duct-taped her legs, her arms, her chest, her stomach.
They slapped tape over her mouth. For a moment, she feared they would duct-tape her hair to the chair as well.
Thankfully, they ran out of tape before they could add any more.
She breathed the musty air in the cramped cabin through her nose and thanked God that Cassidy had escaped.
Fear gnawed at her nerves. But deep down, a contrary peace fended off complete panic.
She'd done something right. Though not by herself.
She'd decided to trust God for the courage, and he'd helped her rescue Cassidy.
She didn't know how the next few minutes would play out—her happy ending wasn't guaranteed—but her fear, while still present, wasn't paralyzing.
Wasn't keeping her from doing what she needed to do.
And that felt good.
God was with her, whether she survived tonight or not. A paradoxical assurance sidled up to her simmering fear—an assurance that God was on her side and would take care of her. On either side of death. Whenever it came for her.
The guards limped around the room, whined about the minor injuries they'd incurred when she'd toppled the shelves, and glared at her. Lots of glaring.
"Stay away from the windows," Chester barked. "Emil has several security guards on his yacht. He'll probably bring them. Watch yourselves."
He checked his watch. "Emil will be here in a couple of minutes. You two hide nearby where you can get a shot at him if he tries something." He wagged a finger in the air. "But don't touch him until I see the jewels."
Taking deep, calming breaths through her nose, Lena easily imagined all the ways Chester's plan could go wrong.
Emil would never give up anything, especially jewels worth millions, for her life.
If he showed up at all, it would only be in hopes of getting the rest of the jewels away from Chester.
She had no idea what was about to happen, but she could picture Emil and Chester in a duel—Old West at high noon style—shooting each other over the jewels.
Maybe they would shoot each other, and Frank and Manny would take off with the jewels.
Then she could just sit tight and pray that Nash eventually found her.
He was going to be watching Emil, so he would probably follow him out here. Wouldn't he?
Nash would find her. She knew he would. She just prayed he wouldn't get hurt in the process.
"Chester!" A voice from outside heightened the tension in the cramped cabin. Frank and Manny stilled. Chester crept up to a window and peeked out.
"Who is it?" Frank asked.
"That driver guy. Hang on." He cracked the door open, no more than an inch. "Where's Emil?" he shouted.
"He sent me," Nash called back.
She craned her neck and spotted him out the window. He held up a small bag, opened it, and dipped his hand in. When he brought it out, moonlight glinted on several jewels in his palm.
"We found Cassidy walking down the road a few minutes ago." He lifted the jewels higher. "But Emil wants me to trade the jewels for Lena."
Nash's voice jolted more emotion through her body than she knew what to do with.
Especially with duct tape covering her mouth.
She was relieved to the point of tears. But she was also terrified for his safety.
The last few minutes convinced her of a few things.
Chester didn't plan on letting any of them walk out of there. He wanted the jewels. And no witnesses.
But Nash would anticipate that. She desperately wished she knew his plan.
Not that she could do anything to help with a mile of duct tape spooled around her.
Dear God, please . . . please . . . No matter what else happens, please keep Nash safe.