Chapter 13 #2
Dobby swore. “We’ve identified the guy. You need to get your arse out of there.”
Heath went into high alert. “What did you find?” He put the phone on speaker so Zoe could hear and got the plastic card which held bobby pins out of his pocket.
“He’s wanted for acts of terrorism, including being suspected for a number of bombings.”
Fuck. “He was dressed as maintenance.” He had to get Zoe to safety. He started work on the lock.
“Might be taking advantage of the unrest in Qatar and trying to make it spread to other countries. We’re calling it in, see if we can get a contact.”
At this time of night and with the glacial speed of bureaucracy, it would be too late.
“We need to tell someone.” Before he could stop her, Zoe banged on the door and yelled, “Is anyone there?”
“I’ll call you back when we get out of here,” Heath said to Dobby. He tucked a couple of bobby pins and their hard plastic packaging into his pocket and waited to see if anyone would answer her summons.
If someone came, he’d have to warn them, even if it meant giving away that he wasn’t who he’d pretended to be.
Otherwise he’d pick the lock and take them out the way they’d come and leave the airport.
Lotfi came to the window and glanced in, annoyed.
Zoe stepped away from the door and he opened it. “What’s wrong?”
Zoe glanced at him.
“There’s a known terrorist in the airport dressed as a maintenance worker.”
Lotfi’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know what a terrorist looks like?”
Heath ignored the question and Zoe held out her phone. “This man.”
Lotfi took the phone, glanced at the photo, and then his gaze centred on Heath. “Who are you really?”
His only chance to save hundreds of lives was the truth. “I was hired to get Zoe out of Qatar before the uprising. We ran into a little trouble on the way and ended up here.” All truth and enough for the man to know Heath knew what he was talking about.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Lotfi left, locking the door behind him and taking Zoe’s phone with him.
“Wait!” Zoe called. She turned to Heath. “He can’t leave us here when there could be a bomb planted somewhere nearby.” She paced the room and on her second pass, he drew her into his arms.
“It’s all right. We’ll get out of here.” He hugged her for a moment until her body relaxed and then let go. “I’m going to unlock the door. Can you put some of these pins under your scarf?” He handed her a couple of bobby pins in case Lotfi caught them and confiscated what he had.
She did as he asked as he set to work on the handle.
There was no keyhole on this side, but the hard plastic card might work.
There was a little play in the door and he managed to get the card between the door and the wall.
He wiggled the card up and down while keeping an eye out for Lotfi returning.
“Grab your charger and get ready,” Heath told Zoe.
A shout from down the corridor, followed by two pops. Suppressed gun shots.
Heath swore and grabbed his bag from the table. “Zoe, get over here.”
She dashed across the room and he pulled her down next to him, against the wall so they couldn’t be seen through the window.
Steps came past but didn’t stop. There were no other sounds, no calls of alarm, nothing.
Heath waited a couple of beats more. Next to him Zoe trembled and he rubbed her arm but didn’t speak.
He counted out thirty seconds before he stood and peered out. He couldn’t see anything out the window but an empty corridor.
He got back to work with the card on the lock and spoke quietly. “When we get out, you follow me. If I say run, you run.”
Zoe nodded.
Neither route was safe. Going left would probably take them further into the airport closer to where the witch would plant a bomb, going right would take them closer to an armed shooter.
The door clicked open and he slowly opened it, peering out. The direction the shooter had gone down was empty, but a security guard lay in the other direction.
Heath didn’t need to check his pulse to know he was dead. There was far too much blood. He reached for Zoe’s hand and she grabbed his.
“We’re leaving the airport,” Heath said. “Hopefully Lotfi has raised the alarm, otherwise Dobby will have.”
Cautiously he jogged down the corridor, pausing at the corner to check it was clear before jogging to the next intersection. They made it without seeing anyone, but he heard shouts of alarm behind them as someone discovered the body.
They finally reached the door out into the public check-in area. Cautiously he peered through.
It didn’t look any different from before. No one was stopped from going through security, and no one was stopped from entering the building.
Maybe the alarm hadn’t been raised.
Heath scanned the area, taking in all the families around him, and spotted a maintenance man exiting the building.
He couldn’t be sure it was the witch, but he followed with Zoe right behind him.
“There’s a—” His shouted warning was cut off as a loud explosion thundered through the area and the whole building shook.
***
Zoe stumbled into Heath as the building shook around them. People screamed, yelling for loved ones, but before she had time to register any damage, Heath was pulling her towards the exit.
She barely had time to get her feet moving in the right direction.
As they burst through the doors, Heath swore and abruptly changed directions. Instead of following the witch, he dragged her across the road in the opposite direction.
Her breath came in pants as she pushed herself after him, unable to form any words.
Behind them another explosion went off, and screams filled the air.
Heath pushed her behind a concrete pillar as debris flew past them. He grunted and pressed his body hard against hers, a human shield.
“Heath.”
“Stay still,” he said, peering out around the pillar as things stopped flying by.
All Zoe could hear were screams above the ringing in her ears. “What happened?”
“He dropped another bomb in the rubbish bin outside the airport,” Heath said. “It’s why I changed direction.”
How horrific. People would be fleeing the other bomb and run straight into that one.
Her stomach revolted and she gagged.
Heath stepped away, giving her space to breathe and she bent over, sucking air into her lungs, but it was filled with exhaust and dust.
Heath’s gaze was in the direction the witch had gone. Zoe glanced towards the airport. People massed at the glass doors, glancing both ways, too scared to exit the building.
“What now?”
“The terminal will close. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. People stumbled around, confused.
“Are you all right?” Heath studied her.
She straightened and nodded. “Of course.”
“We need to leave.” He slipped his hand into hers, but didn’t move, his gaze on a small girl crying next to her mother, who had blood streaming down her face.
“We need to help people,” Zoe said.
He hesitated as if at war with himself, and then turned, barking orders at taxi drivers who were staring in shock at the destruction. “Clear the way. Get people out of here.”
Organising, so cars wouldn’t block the way for emergency vehicles.
Already airport staff were running around carrying first aid kits, but there weren’t many. Some people were hysterical, and one lady was screaming at her husband to get her out of there while their three young children cried around them. Others helped the injured.
Too many people. They needed to clear them out so that the emergency services could deal with the injured.
Zoe hailed one of the taxis and hurried over to the hysterical woman. “Are you uninjured?”
The woman wailed, but the man nodded.
“Take the taxi into town and find a hotel for the rest of the night,” Zoe said. “You can organise new flights in the morning, or drive to Abu Dhabi and get a flight from there.”
The husband nodded his thanks and herded his family into the waiting taxi.
Nearby another couple saw what was happening and hurried over to a taxi.
Zoe moved through the area, speaking to people who seemed frozen in shock, suggesting they leave and return in the morning. Most just needed a nudge to get moving. Those who could, helped others. Those who couldn’t or wouldn’t, began to clear out.
There were so few medical supplies, but it seemed the worst injured were those who’d been near the rubbish bin when it exploded. A few others had shrapnel wounds, but nothing too serious.
People trickled, then gushed out of the airport. They pushed and shoved in their panic to escape. Zoe hurried away from the doors, but directed people away from the entrance road and injured people. Some listened, others didn’t.
Bedlam.
She glanced around for Heath, but couldn’t see him amongst the throng. A frisson of concern filled her, and she reached for her phone. No, Lotfi had taken it.
How would she find him in the crowd?
She moved away from the doors and towards the pillar they had sheltered behind.
She reached it just as Heath did. “There you are.” He huffed out a breath. “You need to stay close to me.”
“Those people needed direction.”
He dragged her into his arms and hugged her. “Sorry, you scared me when I couldn’t find you.”
She hugged him back, the warmth of safety flooding her, and rested her head against his chest. “Do you think there’s more danger?”
He shook his head. “I need to keep you in my sights for my own peace of mind. Every time I think we’re safe, something else happens.”
She glanced up at him. “We’ll get through this together.”
Their eyes met, and a charge passed between them. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to rise up on her toes and press her mouth against his.
His lips were soft and responsive as he kissed her back, and then deepened the kiss, tightening his hold around her.
Yes. It was right. Passion flowed through her body.
Then a siren wailed near them, and Heath broke the kiss and shoved her against the pillar, his body protecting her again as he glanced around.
Zoe’s breath left her, but a moment later he relaxed his hold.
“Late fire alarm,” Heath said, glancing down at her. “Sorry.”
She smiled at him. “Don’t apologise for your amazing reflexes.”
He nodded, suddenly serious. “We need to come up with a new plan.”
As much as she’d like to spend the night kissing him, he was right. “Have you checked in with Dobby?”
“Sent him a text.”
Ambulances started arriving and the worst injured were seen to. The mass exodus was slowing. Most weren’t waiting for taxis, simply hurrying away from the terminal towards the city.
“What do we do now?”
“I think emergency services have got it covered,” Heath said.
Zoe nodded, scanning the area. She frowned as she spotted someone next to two men in Dubai Police uniforms. “Is that Lotfi?” She’d thought he’d been shot, but he was scanning the crowd looking fit and healthy.
Heath swore and dragged her behind the pillar out of sight. “It is.”
“How?”
“It mustn’t have been Lotfi’s body on the ground. I assumed, but didn’t check.”
“Should we tell him we saw the witch put the second bomb in the bin?”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
Zoe frowned. “Why?”
“Think about it from his perspective. He gets two Westerners who arrived under suspicious circumstances and are spouting there’s a terrorist in the airport. He goes to investigate and when he gets back, he finds a colleague dead, the two people gone, and two bombs have exploded.”
Her gut clenched. “We’re going to be suspects.”
“Yep.”
“But we didn’t have any guns. We couldn’t have shot the worker.”
“I’m not sure that matters right now. They’ll want to question us again.”
“Shouldn’t we tell them what we know?”
He sighed. “I want to get you on a plane out of here,” he muttered. “I need you to be safe.”
Her heart warmed. “The feeling’s mutual, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Heath’s phone rang, and he answered.
Whatever the person said had to be bad news because his expression darkened and he scanned the area. “Copy.”
He grabbed her hand. “We’re getting out of here.”