Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tears built in her eyes, but she refused to unleash them. She couldn’t give in to these assholes who were using her to make a statement and kill others.
Her heart worked into her throat at the sight of Asher in the crowd, and everything inside of her hurt that much more.
He wasn’t a dream. He was real. Her team had come for her.
Of course, they’d come, but would they be able to wrap their minds around the fact they might not be able to save her?
She squeezed her emotions away as best she could and slowly skirted her focus off to the left, toward a cameraman standing alone amidst the media equipment abandoned by the other outlets.
Her brows drew together as she fixed her attention back on Asher, hoping he would get the message.
The explosives on her vest were nothing compared to the unstable weapon inside that man’s backpack.
The bomber was on the move now, heading toward the crowd. Onlookers stood off in the distance behind police barricades, watching her. Waiting to see what would happen. Trying to capture the moment on their phones.
Go. Her eyes pleaded with Asher. Stop him.
The police started to edge away from her, no longer shouting angry threats in both German and English. And she knew what they were planning to do next.
A head shot. A clean kill.
They were going to risk her setting off the vest now that everyone was far enough away.
Asher stood locked in place as if he couldn’t decide what to do—a moment of indecision she had never witnessed with him before.
She tried to keep her body still, to kill the trembling, so her thumb didn’t slip and hit the detonator taped to the palm of her hand.
Even if her team killed the RFs and cell signals, it wouldn’t do any good. The bomb in the backpack was on a timer.
Samir Hadeed wanted Jessica dead, but he wouldn’t care if the vest detonated, or she was taken out by the police.
Samir. God, how could he have become this man? How had this happened? He was so young. Too young to be behind all of this.
She ignored the bubbling rise of bile at the back of her throat and dropped her lids closed. She refused to race through her thoughts—to think about everything she’d ever wanted to do but never had.
Her heart was bleeding, though. At least, it felt like there was a gaping hole, and blood was leaking into her chest cavity.
When her lids slowly lifted, she spotted one police officer with a rifle in hand, observing her through a scope. He’d be the man to take her out. But behind him . . . Luke.
He was talking to the sniper. And, oh God, he has Max with him. He’d been a German Fed before retiring and working in private security. Of course, Luke would reach out to him. But was there time to stop this?
Max moved in front of the man who was close to stealing her last breath, blocking his shot.
A small flicker of hope grew inside of her. She searched for Asher and found him off in the distance with Liam.
Liam stood alongside the German officers, and he and the Feds were motioning for the bystanders to move back.
The bomber was out of sight, but Asher had found the backpack and crouched before it. Brave like always. Made of steel on the days they needed it, and every day in between.
Her head rolled skyward, and she stared up at the bright sun kissing the sky as if everything in the world was okay, and she wasn’t standing close to where Ara had died about to follow along with her.
“Hey.” Luke’s voice had her dropping her gaze. He was approaching her. Alone.
The police were keeping a safe distance; she was almost surprised they’d let her brother approach. Almost surprised because this was Luke—and he always came through. Against all odds.
“The signals have been jammed.” Luke’s eyes were hollow, a shell. He’d probably been through hell since she’d been taken.
She shook her head, letting him know it didn’t matter.
He edged closer and peeled the tape from her mouth before eying the vest.
“It’s on a timer,” she rasped.
His fingers trailed over the stopwatch. “Forty-five seconds.” He glanced back over his shoulder, and she tracked his gaze to find Asher running toward them.
The police blocked him, but he started to shove and push against them, through them, one by one. He was going to get himself killed if he didn’t stop.
But Max intervened, and Asher charged her way.
“Let me do it!” he called out as he closed in on them.
“The other bomb?” she rushed out, finding his eyes.
“It’s defused.” He nodded.
Thank God.
“There’s not much time.” Tears touched her cheeks. She couldn’t hold them back, not with her brother and Asher so close. “If you cut the wrong wire, you could both die. Ju-just go.”
“No. We’re not going anywhere.” Luke shook his head. “Down to twenty seconds.”
Asher’s fingertips buzzed down the center of her vest, and he carefully shifted a few wires around. He retrieved a knife from his pocket. The knife she’d given him for Christmas.
“I need you to get back,” Asher rasped to Luke, his breathing labored.
Luke didn’t budge.
Jessica looked back and forth between the two. She didn’t want to die like this, but more than that, she didn’t want anything happening to them.
She tucked her chin down to try and observe what Asher was doing. He shifted a red wire to the side to get to the blue.
“Back. The. Fuck. Up,” Asher commanded. “You’re a father!”
Luke didn’t move. Stubborn as hell.
“Please,” Jessica pleaded, her voice breaking. “Go, the both of you. I don’t know which wire—”
“If you stay,” Asher began, “I stay.” He captured her eyes as he held the blade to the blue wire. “A team, remember?” And then he cut it.