Chapter 36 #2
That she asked as an afterthought made Ginger hold back a smile. The feeling of friendship she felt toward Sarah appeared to be reciprocated.
Noah’s eyes hinted at humor. “No, I’m not,” he said dryly.
“Then I’m going with you. Five percent is all I have left from that bastard husband of mine.
But five percent of a few billion dollars someday might make my life easier.
And if Jack Darby needs help, I want to be a part of it.
” Sarah stood and craned her neck at Ginger.
“I have a burqa upstairs—I’ll go find it. ”
She stepped forward, then paled, seeing her servant by the stairs. “I have to inform her family of what’s happened.” Her fingers shook as she pushed her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes misted. “And Babu. I saw them shoot him in the courtyard before I hid. Are there any others?”
“We didn’t see anyone else. Do you have a telephone here, Mrs. Hanover?” Noah asked.
Sarah’s hands still appeared shaky. “In the library.”
Ginger rose from her seat and put a steadying hand on her elbow.
“Why don’t you gather what you need?” Noah said.
“I’ll make a phone call to a friend of mine who can see to caring for the bodies in your home.
” His voice was exceedingly gentle. Ginger snuck a glance at him, her heart warming.
His ability to be both kind and competent in times of heartbreak was wonderful.
Sarah nodded and left them and went up the stairs.
Ginger went to Noah and tugged at his hand. She interlocked her fingers with his, trying to read his face, which was cast in shadow. “Do you think it’s wise to take her with us?”
“I don’t know. But she’s not safe here. If Osborne came after her, it’s because he thinks there’s something that only she can offer him.” Noah lifted Ginger’s hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “Taking you both seems risky, to be honest.”
Heaviness weighed on Ginger. “It feels as though we’re being lured there, doesn’t it? And by taking Sarah aren’t we taking the piece of the puzzle that they’re missing?”
“I don’t know of any other option. Only that Jack would go for me if the roles were reversed. And if he’s as ill as Victoria says he was, it may be too late already.”
Ginger followed him to the library. “Is it safe to make a telephone call?”
Noah nodded. “It should be. This friend isn’t connected to the government. Just someone who does me favors occasionally when I need to obtain a respectful burial for someone. I won’t identify myself anyway.”
Ginger chewed on her lower lip. Intriguing as it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know more.
Noah’s phone call turned out to be in French. As he chatted in low tones, she moved toward the window, gazing over the courtyard of palm trees that surrounded the house. What sort of life had Noah occupied before the war?
Until hours ago, she hadn’t even known her new husband was half-Egyptian.
The things she didn’t know about him far outnumbered those she knew.
Movement in the courtyard caught her attention. She sucked in a breath, then squinted, trying to distinguish what she’d seen.
She leaned forward, one hand on the glass, searching the courtyard.
A man’s face appeared in the window, inches from her own.
Screaming, Ginger dove away from the window. Gunshots and breaking glass followed. Ginger covered her face with her arms, her ears ringing.
“Ginger, move!” Noah commanded. He’d dropped the phone and fired his gun at the same moment. The man who’d peeked in through the window lay dead, half-sprawled into the broken window.
She scrambled from the floor and rushed toward Noah as another figure came running up behind the dead man. Noah fired toward the window again, pulling Ginger behind him. She peeked out the window.
A second man, dressed identically to the first, twitched on the ground. “Who are they?” Ginger asked.
“Considering that they were holding guns, I wasn’t going to wait to find out. Let’s get Sarah and go. Who knows how many more are here.” Noah dragged her from the room. She ran at his side, hardly able to keep up.
Sarah was already back down the stairs, a rucksack over her shoulder. She hadn’t changed into a burqa but held one under her arm. “What happened?”
“More men with guns arrived. Do you have any weapons here? All of mine are in the boot of our motorcar,” Noah said.
Sarah led him toward a closet. After unlocking it, she flipped on a light and stepped back. Several rifles were inside. Noah eyed Sarah curiously as he slung them over his shoulder, grabbing ammunition. He lifted his brow at a crate of dynamite and hand grenades.
What on earth is Sarah doing with all this?
“You never know when dynamite will come in handy,” Sarah deadpanned.
Noah grabbed a bundle of dynamite. He lifted a few grenades. “And these?”
Sarah shrugged. “I’m American, for God’s sake. We like being prepared for any scenario.”
Noah smirked and pocketed some grenades.
They raced from the house. The car was parked just outside, shrouded by the early morning light that had barely broken through the horizon. A dog nearby barked, adding a sense of urgency to their flight.
Ginger and Sarah climbed in as Noah worked the starting handle.
The roar of a car engine approached. Ginger’s heart accelerated as another car pulled up in front of the gated entrance, then blocked it. Several men were inside, all of them with rifles.
British soldiers.
“Noah!” Ginger cried out.
“Keep your head low!” Noah shouted to them. A few shots rang out as he slammed his foot on the gas pedal, speeding the car toward gate.
He was aiming straight toward the other car.
The squeal of tires sounded as the soldiers realized, too late, that Noah would be undeterred. Ginger peeked out from her seat to see the other motorcar pull forward slightly but not enough to avoid being hit.
Sarah hung on, huddling down in the seat as Noah swung toward the wider gap and rammed their motorcar past the gate and the other vehicle. A hideous metallic scrape sounded, the bumper of the assailants’ car ripping from the back. Ginger shielded her face.
They continued forward, careening toward the dirt road, bumping across grass and rock to get there. The car jostled and gave a hard bump—one that made her insides feel like they’d dropped—then the smoother road followed.
Ginger tugged at the fabric in front of her face as the wind whipped it. Her black robe billowed, and she held it down with her arms. Would these disguises even help now that they’d been seen?
Thankfully, the British soldiers didn’t seem to have Noah’s skill at driving and remained far behind them.
Noah turned onto the main road. With the dawn breaking, carts and cars clogged the roadway.
He sped around one, sending a fruit cart flying.
He spun the wheel, then pushed the gas pedal harder.
The British soldiers were quickly gaining on them.
Ginger covered her face with her hands, praying. Please, God, let us get out of this. If they captured Noah, who knew what would happen? Would they shoot him? The army might not care to capture him alive. He had to escape.
Sarah appeared to be loading a rifle.
As they turned onto the open stretch of road before the bridge, the soldiers drew closer. Their rifles glinted in the first rays of the sun.
Oh my God, they’re going to kill us all.
Noah withdrew the bundle of dynamite from his robe.
As he flicked a flame with a lighter, he simultaneously slammed on the brakes of the car.
The soldiers careened toward them, tires squealing as they tried to stop themselves from slamming into the back of their car.
As both cars drew to a halt, Noah lit the fuse on the dynamite, then hurled it into the soldiers’ car.
The men in the car gave one horrified look, then went scrambling, diving out headlong as Noah lurched their own car forward.
A boom behind them shook the ground. Her heart in her throat, Ginger looked back to see the car a ball of flame and smoke, the soldiers still fleeing from it.
The rush of adrenaline pumping through her filled her with energy, glee, and horror all at once. She tossed her arms around her husband’s neck. “That was brilliant.”
Noah shrugged. “You were right, Mrs. Hanover. The dynamite was quite handy.”
Sarah stared at them both, then burst into the nervous laughter that came with having barely survived certain death.
“Under the circumstances, maybe you should start calling me Sarah?” The car barreled forward in the wind and sand of the Egyptian landscape, the red light of sunrise lighting the sky.