Chapter Six
“They’re splitting us up,” Dax announced as though he were well-versed in terrorist abduction tactics and strategy. “No one will hurt her. Or us.” The door flew open again. Two men entered. Dax held out his hands. “Ease up. Okay? You’ve made your point.”
Additional armed men flanked the two Dax faced off with. Joe and Dax stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Jane curled around Teddy, trying to become one with the wall.
A flourish of words flew around the cell. As fast as the armed men had entered, they easily subdued Joe and Dax then dragged them away.
Jane trembled. Her knees threatened to buckle. She wanted to shield Teddy’s eyes, but he already knew what was happening, and there wasn’t anything left to see.
“The door didn’t shut,” Teddy whispered.
“What?” She wanted to cry, and rubbed Teddy’s back. Holding him nearly took all her energy, but she couldn’t let go—for both their sakes.
“It didn’t shut. Like when Mom and Dad fight. They shut it so hard it stays open.”
Jane turned toward the door. Teddy was right.
The door had been slammed shut so hard the latch hadn’t caught.
Carefully, she inched over, waiting for the guards to burst in again.
Minutes passed. They felt like hours. Finally, Jane reached for the door and tried the knob.
It didn’t turn—but the door moved. “You’re right, Teddy.
” She kissed his cheek, pulling the door farther ajar.
Jane peeked into the semi-dark hallway and didn’t see anyone.
“Are we going to go home?” Teddy asked.
“Absolutely.” She squeezed him close but realized her arms were shaking with weakness. If they were to leave, she couldn’t carry him. “But I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.” Teddy wriggled from her arms.
Oh, God. She hoped this was the right thing to do.
Jane inched it open. A dim, flickering light danced on the wall far from their cell.
That had been the direction she’d heard the noise and gunfire come from.
The other way seemed much darker, but quieter.
She opted to head away from the gunshots. “Let’s go.”
Hand in hand, they rushed down the hall. The uneven floor and winding walls didn’t make sense. Her free hand helplessly felt around in front of them.
Teddy tripped. “Ow! Janie! My knee!”
“Shhh!” She pulled him back to his feet and lifted him to her chest. Her muscles ached under his light weight. “We’ll check on it later.”
Walls pocked with gaping holes allowed moonlight to guide their way. They stumbled over uneven ground. “There has to be a way out.”
Gunshots fired again. But this time, they were so close that Jane was surprised her heart continued to beat. Teddy clung to her, shaking and whimpering, and she let him bury his face in her shoulder. At least then, he couldn’t see what a clusterfuck his father had created.
They raced from the sounds until she had to stop and catch her breath. They leaned against what had at one time been a wall. Now it gaped and allowed the frigid night air to blow over them.
Her eyes swept a half-circle around them, scanning outside their building, trying to make sense of the dark landscape.
Far away, bonfires glowed. Maybe they were from refugee camps.
Maybe someone from the UN or NATO would be there and could help.
But, the longer she stared, the more impossible it seemed to reach the lights.
Suddenly, hands came down on her and Teddy.
She fought against the powerful hands wrenching the boy from her grasp.
“No!” Relinquishing Teddy was one thing she was prepared to fight to the death over, and not just because it was part of her job description.
She slammed the heel of her palm under the man’s chin.
His jaw snapped back under her force, and she kneed him in the groin.
The man toppled forward, and Jane released her grip on Teddy.
She dropped a leg back into her fighting stance.
She could barely see her target and didn’t want to hit the boy between them, but sighted him as best she could, pulled her knee up, and attacked with a kick that landed only because of years of repetition.
The man grunted. Teddy fell between them, and Jane scooped the crying boy to her chest.
“What are you doing?” Teddy cried.
“Baby—” She rounded a sharp corner. “We have to run.”