Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dan walked faster, pushing through the spectators, muttering apologies, narrowing the gap between himself and Winter, who was about three people in front of him, dressed as a cleaner. He kept his head bowed, but Dan knew it was him. He’d known as soon as Winter had stepped into view.
And ahead of them was the exit, Stu and Wulf standing on either side, scanning the passing faces.
They’ll see him. They won’t let him through.
Dan wasn’t about to leave that to chance.
His pulse raced as he shortened the distance between them, elbowing people out of the way. They hurled abuse at him, some of them shouting in Afrikaans.
He ignored them.
Winter was only a few feet away from the exit when Dan lurched forward and grabbed his arm. Winter struggled to free himself, but Dan dug his fingers into Winter’s firm bicep.
Winter turned on him. “Will you let go of—” He froze, and Dan couldn’t miss the flicker of recognition. The spectators were in constant motion, flowing around them like water evading an obstacle in its path, he and Winter a fixed point in the stream of bodies.
Dan didn’t let go. He ignored the noise, the heat, the odor of sweat, and concentrated on the man before him.
He grabbed Winter’s other arm and held him fast, letting his gift take him, use him, open him up to whatever lay hidden.
He was vaguely aware of Stu and Wulf as they moved into position behind Winter.
He doubted Winter even knew they were there. It was as if he sensed what Dan was doing, his hazel eyes huge, his lips parted, no sound escaping them. He no longer fought to free himself, but stood there, sweat popping out on his smooth brow.
Dan tugged him out of the tide of supporters, heading for refuge from the noise and the constant pushing as people tried to reach the exit. He led Winter toward the wall, Stu and Wulf moving with them, until at last they were free of the crowd.
Winter found his voice. “What do you want?” He glanced at the two men flanking him, as though seeing them for the first time.
Dan said nothing but gazed into his eyes, seeking confirmation of what he’d glimpsed.
And there it was.
He sucked in a deep breath.
“Mr. Winter, if you let this happen, it won’t be a better world for Bobby.”
Winter became like a statue. The only movement was the trembling of his lips and chin. He stared at Dan, the vein in his neck beating a visible pulse beneath the skin.
“Bobby? What do you mean? What have you done to Bobby?” Stu and Wulf grabbed him, and this time he struggled to break free of their grasp. “Let me go,” he snarled. Winter’s eyes blazed. “You tell me what you’ve done with Bobby.”
Stu gave Dan a look of sheer bewilderment. “Who the fuck is Bobby?”
Dan expelled a breath. “His grandson. That’s why he’s doing this.” And then the knowledge hit him, as tangible as a fist, leaving him weak and shaking.
“Oh my God.”