Chapter 10 #2
“Explosive materials. Weapons. I think they’re planning another attack.” Asher looked at the woman and girl, his heart breaking. The girl had been dragged into this world and never given a chance. “We’re talking some unstable shit, too. Chemicals that can make triacetone triperoxide.”
“Fuck. You thinking an s-vest or something bigger?” Luke’s Adam’s apple moved in his throat.
“Maybe.”
“Where the hell did they take her?” He shoved the barrel of the gun into the man’s mouth, and the guy dropped his eyes closed.
He used to be an enforcer for a terrorist organization, but now he looked like a man on the verge of breaking.
Maybe he’d been out of the terrorist game for a while.
Asher assumed the woman and child were his wife and daughter, but he wasn’t about to hold a gun to them to get answers. He had his limits.
“There was paint hidden. Why hide paint?” His mind rummaged through ideas. “Shit. I think I know where they’d go.”
Luke pulled the gun from the man’s mouth and stood. The woman remained in the corner with the girl, and the guy started to rise, but Luke shook his head and aimed the gun at him.
Asher retrieved his phone, dialed up the team, and placed the call on speakerphone.
“We have to alert the police,” he said once the line connected.
“We need them to jam all radio frequencies and cell towers within a twenty-kilometer range of the Brandenburg Gate. I think they’re planning on setting off another bomb there. ”
The man’s brown eyes narrowed, and he looked away from Asher the moment he’d finished speaking.
He was right. He could feel it.
“They may have a timer and not a remote detonator, but if—”
“The press and police are still all over the place,” Luke interrupted.
“Exactly.” He took a breath. “I think these assholes are on their way there now. Maybe under the guise of the media.” Asher held the phone in his palm as steadily as possible, trying to fight the tremble in his hand. “I don’t know how much time we have.”
“Especially if this cocksucker was just over there.” Luke shifted his attention back to the man. “What time are they planning to attack?”
Asher’s heart squeezed at the sight of the girl. Maybe she did speak English. Maybe she understood everything because . . . he was pretty sure she was signaling something to him.
His gaze fell to her hand at her side.
Her closed palm opened, and she extended her fingers to show five before retracting her hand to show another three fingers.
Eight o’clock? “We have twenty minutes,” he hissed in alarm after checking his watch.
Luke looked over at him. “I’ll get ahold of my contact. He can phone this in for us. We need someone to stay with them, though. We can’t let them tip off whoever has her.”
Asher stepped closer to him, hating the idea one of them would have to stay.
“Go,” Luke said as if reading his thoughts. “You’re better at dealing with explosives.”
Asher knew it pained him to make that call.
“We’ll meet you there,” Liam said over the line.
“Just get to her,” Luke rushed out. “Don’t let the police kill her. If she’s strapped—”
“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Asher said, his voice rough. “I promise.”
Twelve minutes later
“I don’t see her yet.” Asher checked his watch. They had eight minutes. Eight fucking minutes until Jessica could be blown up. He had to trust the girl. He didn’t have a choice.
“Any media vans look different than the others?” Liam asked over comms once he and Knox had arrived at the scene and scattered to surveil the area.
“There’s a lot of them,” Knox answered.
“Bravo One is five minutes out,” Liam announced, which meant Luke had turned the target over to his contact along with the woman and child.
“Why the hell are our comms still working?” Knox asked a minute later. “The police haven’t killed the frequencies yet.”
“They will,” Asher said. “They have to.” Of course, if there was a timer, killing the signals wouldn’t stop an attack.
“I’ve got her in my sights,” Liam’s voice came hard over the lines. “It’s Jessica, but—”
“She’s strapped,” Asher finished. He’d spotted Jessica being shoved out of the back of a van. Her mouth was covered, and the detonator was taped around her hand. She was on her side now, on the ground, struggling to stand.
“Knox, go after the van,” Asher ordered. “Don’t let the driver get away.”
“Copy that,” he responded.
Asher started toward Jessica, his heart pumping hard in his chest, trying to suffocate the fear of seeing her in trouble. “We need to get to her before the police see . . .”
But it was too late.
Screams ripped through the air. Jessica had been spotted.
“Approach on the left,” he told Liam. “We have to get to her before the police take her out by mistake.”
“I’ve lost visual,” Liam said as the press rushed his way.
“She’s on her feet now.” Asher sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes connecting with hers. Everything inside him dying at the moment.
The police set themselves up like a human barricade to the public. They pushed everyone back to the standard range from an s-vest.
Nothing was standard about this moment, though, not with Jessica there.
Commands for Asher to leave barked from behind, but he ignored them.
“They won’t shoot her and risk the bomb detonating,” Liam said. “Right?”
His throat thickened at the sight of Jessica shaking her head, and it had Asher pausing mid-step.
“The police are backing farther away from her.” Panic crept into Asher’s tone. “They’re going to take the shot.”
Jessica stood frozen in place, hands still up, but she turned her head to the side, and he followed her gaze.
“You see the cameraman alone about a hundred meters to your left?” Liam asked over the comms.
“Yeah.” Asher swallowed. Time stood still. A hard knot fisted in his stomach. “I think that’s what Jessica wants me to notice. She’s letting us know she’s a diversion.”