Chapter 33 #2
“Roger that.” Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Samir’s here. It’s time.” She retrieved her pistol and motioned for Fatima to exit.
“You promise not to kill him?” Her eyes filled with liquid.
“That’s the plan,” she said before exiting the vehicle, and Fatima joined her on the sidewalk.
“I’m moving into position,” she alerted the team.
“This is Bravo One. Target is closing in on the front steps. SWAT is getting anxious,” Luke warned a few seconds later.
At the sight of Samir in an s-vest, Fatima screamed out his name in panic.
Samir flung around, firearm in one hand, detonator in the other. His lips parted as he laid eyes on his mother, and Fatima shifted away from Jessica to run to him.
He started shouting at her in Arabic. Orders to leave. To get away.
Fatima held position ten feet away from him, palms in the air in surrender.
“Samir. Please.” Jessica kept her arms locked, her weapon drawn in front of her. “You don’t want to do this.” She tried to keep her voice steady as she moved closer to him. “If you walk into that lobby, the only person you’ll kill is yourself.”
His eyes darted from his mother to her. Indecision clouded his eyes. Fear.
“You don’t have to hurt anyone else.” Her breath floated with the cold air as she edged closer, within range of a possible blast. “I forgive you,” she said as steadily as possible, willing her words to be true.
If she could truly forgive him and make peace with what had happened to her, to Ara, she could move forward, be stronger.
His arm shook slightly, and his brown eyes shifted to his mom. He threw his hand out in front of him, motioning for both of them to back away.
More pleas in Arabic sailed from Fatima’s lips, but Samir returned his focus to Jessica.
“I know you’d never have gone through with the chemical attack,” Jessica said slowly, hoping she was right. He’s a kid. Just a kid.
“I killed my cousin. I tried to kill you.” His jaw clenched. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“You’re smart, Samir. Smart enough to realize the only people who will suffer if you push that button are you and your mom.” She took a step closer. “What is it that you really want?”
He was quiet as if contemplating her question, and she took the moment to assess his vest.
From the looks of it, homemade explosives were tucked into the pockets, blue and red wires tangled in the front like a ribbon tying everything together. But it was the two tubes of liquid flanking both his sides that had her worried.
Oil and vinegar? Or did he have a chemical weapon ready to spread when the bomb exploded?
If it was TATP, the mother of Satan, the chemicals could explode because of friction without the heat of the blast. She had to end this and now.
“I want the war to stop,” he finally said, his voice breaking, emotion leaking out.
He was a confused kid who’d grown up surrounded by violence and death. She had to try and remember that.
“This isn’t how you end a war.” She clicked back on the safety of her gun and slowly stowed her weapon in the holster, praying she was making the right decision.
He cocked his head and studied her.
“Your brother, Arif, was a good man.” She stood alongside Fatima now and saw tears dripping down the woman’s face like blood seeping from a wound. “He helped take down bad guys.”
“And it got him killed!” Samir yelled, liquid gathering in his eyes.
She was getting through to him.
“But he died trying to help his people. What will you die for?” She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved so she was only a foot away from his outstretched arm, from his gun.
His hand shook, and she wasn’t sure if he’d accidentally fire the weapon, but she couldn’t back down now. She couldn’t turn and run.
No, Asher was right about her. She was a fighter.
“Please, Samir. I don’t want them to kill you,” she said, realizing she meant every word now. Too many people had already died.
She tipped her chin to the windows in the building behind him, letting him know snipers were in position.
“After what I did to you? To my own flesh and blood? Why do you care?” He lifted the gun and rubbed it against his forehead. His other hand still clutched the detonator, and she knew she was seconds away from this situation ending in one of two ways.
“People make mistakes,” she said as calmly as possible. “But you can make the right choice now.” She glimpsed his mom over her shoulder before directing her focus back to him. “It’s not too late.”
He looked heavenward, and the world became blanketed in silence.
She wasn’t sure how many seconds ticked by, but his bottom lip shook, and then his entire body began to tremble as he sank to his knees in a broken sob.
She eyed the vials of liquid. He was moving too much.
He lifted both hands, flipping them palms up, offering the gun and detonator as he continued to cry.
“Stay back,” she said to Fatima. “The chemicals may be unstable.”
Samir looked up at her, and he lightly shook his head. “They’re not real.”
But could she believe him? Was it a trap? A fake surrender?
Her heart climbed in her throat as she weighed the options.
“You need to get out of there,” Luke’s voice came over her comm, interrupting her thoughts. “Don’t take a chance. The bomb squad is gearing up. Let them handle this.”
“I need to remove the vest. Protective gear won’t keep those men alive if this vest accidentally blows up,” she said as she disarmed Samir of his weapon and the detonator. “I need to make sure these chemicals aren’t TATP.”
Samir’s eyes thinned at her words. At her doubt.
In her line of work, she had to be certain. She wanted to believe him, but how could she trust a kid who went through such lengths for revenge? Emotions had guided his decisions, and she’d once thought hers hadn’t been—only to realize today she’d been wrong.
She crouched before him to study the wires.
“This isn’t your area of expertise,” Luke reminded her. “If you’re not going to wait, I’m sending Bravo—”
His words faded into the air when Bravo Three exited the building from behind Samir. Worry and fear ripped through Asher’s gaze.
“Let me help.” Asher produced a knife from his pocket, the knife she’d given him at Christmas, talk about déjà vu. “Step back. I’ve got this.”
She followed his request because he was the explosives expert, even though it pained her for him to put himself in danger.
Upright, she edged back and stood alongside Fatima a few feet away; the woman wouldn’t leave without her son.
“I’m going to get this off of you. Got it? Don’t move. Not a goddamn hair.” Asher’s back was to her, which hid his movements as he worked at the spirals of red and blue. “You telling the truth about the chemicals?”
Samir was on his feet a minute later, the vest now removed and in Asher’s hands. “I promise. It’s only acetone,” he said as his gaze veered to his mom. “I’m sorry.” He sidestepped Asher and hurried to his mother’s open arms.
Asher slowly knelt to the ground and set the vest down before facing her. “Just in case he’s lying—how about we get the hell out of here?”