Forever Bold

by Kathleen Brooks

  Jameson looked down at the papers in his hand. A whole new life was before him. He just needed to see Ariana safe and then they could step into the future together.

  28

  “Where is Ariana?” Deming Nikan asked when he answered the door to the cottage.

  “She’s busy at the moment. I’m her boyfriend, Jameson Duke. I’m here to show you around town.” Jameson couldn’t hide the satisfied smile on his face.

  Deming’s assistant bent and whispered in his ear and then walked back into the cottage.

  “This is an insult. Your parents were very clear that you were to have nothing to do with Ariana,” Deming spat.

  “I think I was very clear in Bermalia. I don’t care what my parents want. I’m not their political pawn. Can you say the same?”

  Deming turned red and Jameson knew he was onto something. “Why are you doing their bidding?” Jameson asked.

  “Who said I was?”

  “Then what is your relationship with them? If they promised you Ariana as your bride, you should know that’s never going to happen.”

  Deming clenched his jaw and Jameson could read the thoughts going through his head.

  “Look, man. I’m sorry,” Jameson said. “My parents will use anyone as a political pawn. They shouldn’t have promised you something they couldn’t deliver.”

  Deming looked behind him and then stepped outside and closed the door. “Let’s go for that tour in town.”

  Jameson let Deming take the lead as he quickly walked away from the house and jumped into Jameson’s SUV. This wasn’t what Jameson thought would happen, but he would go with it.

  Jameson got into the SUV and pulled away as the assistant opened the door and rushed outside. “Do you want your assistant?”

  “No, keep driving. Keung is my father’s assistant. He was sent to keep an eye on me. So, you really love Ariana?”

  “I do. The question I have for you, Deming, is why are you trying to hurt her?”

  “Hurt her?” Deming sounded confused. “Why would I hurt her?”

  “Because she’s going to go public with all the accounts of human rights violations your father is inflicting on your people.”

  Deming shook his head as Jameson drove him to the Blossom Café and parked outside. “No. She can’t do that because it’s not true. My father told me about how Rahmi is saying that to negate a trade deal my father is trying to put in place.”

  “Oh, Deming. I think we need to have a drink and talk about the real state of your country.”

  * * *

  Ariana had a stack of flyers ready to be hung for the craft fair. Half the proceeds would go to the crafter and the other half to the church for community improvement projects, the main one being a new playground in the park.

  “Ari, get back in here,” Ben yelled.

  “It can’t hurt to walk down Main Street. You can come with me if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Not until Jameson gives me the all-clear.”

  Ari paused and closed the church door. “What was Jameson like in the military?”

  “He’s a good man now and he was a good man then. He always knew right from wrong and would do anything to help another person out. Do you love him?”

  Ariana smiled to herself as she thought of Jameson. “Yes. More than anything.”

  “I’m very happy to hear that. Wouldn’t a June wedding be beautiful?”

  Ariana tossed a wadded piece of paper at Father Ben and laughed.

  That was until the door opened and Deming’s assistant walked in. “I’m sorry to bother you. I was looking for Deming.”

  Father Ben’s laughter died away as he moved in front of her. “I’m sorry. He’s not here. You may want to check—”

  Ben never finished the sentence. The muffled shot hit him in the chest and Ben dropped to his knees as blood poured through his fingers. He slowly turned his head to Ari and gasped, “Run.”

  Ariana took off. She tore down the aisle of the church, hurdled the altar, and ran for the back door. If she could get out, then she could get to the café, or Paige’s shop, or to Jace’s office. She’d be safe there.

  Ariana skidded through the office and ran down the small narrow hall. There was the door! She shoved it open and burst into the morning light. Her breathing was coming hard and fast as her feet hit the pavement. She was so focused on getting out of the church she didn’t see him waiting for her. The prongs of the stun gun pressed to her neck as she ran past him. She gasped, twitched violently, and then everything went black.

  “My father would never do that,” Deming said as he finished off a glass of the Rose sisters’ tea.

  “Deming, how did your father get to power?” Jameson asked.

  “I was at boarding school when it happened. I was just six, so I don’t remember all the details, but all my history lessons said that the people for him asked to become their leader. They wanted an emperor to rule to bring stability to the country that had long been bouncing between parties and in civil war.”

  “Deming, who controls the press in your country? Who writes the history books?” Jameson almost felt pity for the man.

  “The minister for media controls the television stations, provides Internet to all, and assists newspapers with subsidies to print and distribute the news. Then the educational minister has a whole department that does nothing but research history, math, science, and provide up-to-date textbooks to all the students,” Deming explained.

  Jameson pulled out his phone and opened the video of Nikan’s troops killing men, women, and children in the street. “These were people protesting the lack of a voice in government. This is what your father did to them.”

  Jameson pushed play and watched Deming’s face turn white. “No, that’s not true.”

  Jameson pulled up another one. “This is a group protesting the deaths of several gay citizens.” Jameson played it. Then another and another of the offenses President Nikan had committed.

  “They’re lying. That was never on the news.”

  “Your father controls the news, Deming. He controls everything. He’s a dictator along the lines of Hitler and Stalin. Your people are poor, starving, and living in horrible conditions. Yet your palace, your sports cars, your plane, and everything you have is because your father stole and keeps stealing from the people he should be protecting. That’s what Ariana was going to talk about at the UN.”

  Church bells filled the silence as Deming’s whole world crashed around him.

  “Something’s not right,” Poppy said as she froze.

  Jameson looked at his watch. Ten thirty-seven. The bells shouldn’t be going off. They rang softly at first and at irregular intervals until they echoed hard and fast through town.

  A cold pit formed in Jameson’s stomach and he bolted from the café. People poured out of their offices and everyone ran for the church.

  “What’s going on?” Deming yelled as he ran after Jameson.

  Jameson couldn’t answer. His eyes were on Jace Davies racing into the church ahead of the crowd. Paige Parker burst out of the church. “Get the ambulance!”

  Jameson’s heart stopped as the message was passed down Main Street and a second later the sound of sirens were heard from the firehouse.

  Jameson pushed past people until he got inside the church. Blood. He smelled it first. Then he followed it and saw Ben Jacobs propped up against the wall with one hand on the bell rope with blood pouring from his chest.

  Jace was already in action. Ben’s shirt was ripped open and Jace was checking for the bullet’s exit wound. Cole Parker was helping him and within seconds, Jameson was by Ben’s side. He worked in silence with Cole and Jace. Years of battlefield training kicked in with down-and-dirty first aid.

  “Ah!” Ben yelled when Jameson pressed his hand down hard on the entrance wound.

  “You got this, soldier,” Jameson said, even though it sounded more like an order.

  It did the job, though. Ben stopped gruntin
g in pain and grabbed Jameson’s hand. “He was after Ari. She ran out the back door,” Ben gasped in short, shallow breaths.

  “Who was after her?” Jameson asked as everyone went quiet and leaned in to hear Ben’s answer.

  “I don’t know. He was older and he was asking about where Deming was.”

  “That’s enough talking. You have a pneumothorax,” Jace said as a curly-haired older woman ran in and shoved Cole to the side.

  “Emma, tape up the exit wound while I work on getting some relief for his lungs,” Jace ordered. The older woman got to work on Ben’s back as Jameson held him.

  “Go. Find. Ari,” Ben gasped out as Jace pulled out a large needle with a syringe on the end and jabbed it between Ben’s ribs. Suddenly Ben sucked in a large breath of air as the syringe hissed out air.

  Jameson stood and found the entire town packed into the church with Porter holding tightly to Deming. “I figured we needed to have a word with him.”

  “Thank you, Porter.”

  Deming’s face was pale, his eyes were wide, and he looked as if his whole world had crumbled around him.

  “Who did this?” Jameson demanded as his hands fisted into Deming’s suit coat.

  “I . . . I’m not sure, but it could be Keung. He’d be the only one besides my head of security to come look for me, but my head of security is my age.”

  “What does Keung want with Ariana?” Jameson’s voice dropped to a deadly low tone that made it clear he’d kill Deming without hesitation.

  “I don’t know. None of this makes sense,” Deming said, beginning to panic as he realized he was in the middle of hostile waters with the town closed in on him.

  Thwack!

  A spatula smacked into Deming’s face hard and fast. Miss Violet, who barely reached Deming’s shoulders, shoved Jameson away from Deming. “We don’t have time for this. Tell us where our girl is, our I’ll roast you over a spit and feed your carcass as barbeque at the craft fair.”

  Jameson looked around just as wooden spoon cracked onto Deming’s nose, breaking it. Miss Daisy glared at him. “My sister isn’t joking. You should see her skill with a baster.”

  “And you should see what I can do with this broom,” Miss Lily said, gesturing exactly what she meant.

  “Stop! I’ll tell you everything.” Deming cried as Porter kept a tight grip on Deming’s arms. “Keung is my father’s right-hand man. My father sent him with me to look into a political match with Ariana, depending on what we learn while I’m here.”

  Jameson looked around at the packed church as the EMT fireman carried Ben out of the church. “Everyone, break out and use the text tree to keep in touch. Search for Ariana. Maybe she got away.”

  Matt Walz pushed his way through with Luke Tanner. He looked around and zeroed in on Deming. “I’ll put him in our jail for safekeeping.”

  “You can’t do that. I have diplomatic immunity,” Deming cried.

  “Do you have identification on you?” Matt asked.

  “Well, no.” Deming said slowly.

  Matt grabbed his arms and pulled him toward the door. “Then we’ll need to hold you until we can positively identify you. Then we can release you with the proper diplomatic identification. Unfortunately, our systems are all down right now so it might take a while to verify your identity.”

  Jameson nodded to Matt and Luke and took off for the back door as people filled the street calling Ariana’s name.

  “Jameson, look.”

  Jameson saw that Porter had followed him and was bending down to pick up a crumpled flyer. Jameson looked around. There were no other fliers around. “Ariana said she was here working with Ben on these.” Jameson bent down and stared at the old pavement. A ball of ice filled his stomach as he saw the drag marks from the toes of her tennis shoes. “She’s been taken.”

  “No!”

  Jameson turned and saw the Ali Rahman family standing there. Mo had his arm around Dani as she clutched at his shirt.

  “Was it Deming?” Mo asked, his voice hard and cold.

  “Deming says it could be his assistant, Keung,” Jameson answered.

  “He never came back to the farm after leaving thirty minutes ago,” Nash said as he joined the group along with Kale, Ahmed, Nabi, Dylan, and Abby.

  Abby turned to Kale. “Find her.”

  Kale nodded and took off.

  Jameson was right behind him.

  “Where are you going?” Zain called out.

  “He’s not going to keep her here. There’s only one road out of here. I’ll head toward Lexington and hit the airport first. Call with updates,” Jameson said, jogging toward the café where his SUV was parked.

  “Wait!” Dylan called out. “Abby and I will go with you.”

  “Don’t even think of leaving me behind,” Porter yelled as he reached into a pickup truck and pulled out a rifle and some ammunition.

  “Nabi will take a team out of town,” Ahmed ordered. “Nash and I will come with you.”

  “Wait for me!”

  Jameson turned to see Greer hobbling down the street on crutches with a sniper rifle over her shoulder.

  “Greer,” Mo’s authoritative voice cut through the noise, “I know you want to help. Work with your FBI contacts to find out all you can about Keung. Meet Kale at our security headquarters. Ahmed, I know you wish to go, but I need you to get everything you can from Deming. Nash will go with Jameson.”

  Ahmed didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded and took off for the jail. The Rose sisters and Aniyah were right behind him. It looked as if Ahmed had his own ragtag band of interrogators with him.

  “We’ll get our weapons and make a few calls,” Dylan said before he and Abby took off for their SUV.

  “Nash! Jameson!” Nash’s wife, Sophie, yelled out the window before sliding her car to a stop. “I got some weapons for you.”

  “Thanks, but I have weapons,” Jameson said.

  She smiled slow and menacingly. “Not like these.”

  Jameson turned back to the Ali Rahman family. “I’ll find her. I promise.”

  Dani flung her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Bring our daughter back to us, please.”

  “Do whatever it takes. I’ll handle the fallout,” Mo told him as he too hugged him tight and thumped his back. “I mean it. Whatever it takes.”

  “What the hell is this?” Porter asked, and Jameson looked away from Mo to where Sophie was handing a weird-shaped rifle to Porter.

  “Oh, this little guy is special. It’s filled with a mini sticky grenade that can stick to a wall and then when it silently explodes, it releases an acid that can eat through anything, including cement. You can take down a whole wall, side of a house, jail cell, or whatever you want with it and no one will hear an explosion.”

  “Um, here,” Porter said, shoving it at Nash. “You hold it.”

  Jameson grabbed it but held it away from his body. “Let’s go. Thank you, Sophie.”

  “Wait!”

  Jameson groaned as Piper ran down the street holding a stack of gray jackets. “It’s okay, Piper. We have jackets.” Jameson just wanted to get out of here. Every second Ariana was getting farther and farther from him.

  “Bulletproof, shock-proof, and stab-proof nanotech clothing,” Piper said, shoving jackets at everyone.

  “Really?” Jameson said, holding it up. It looked like a windbreaker.

  “Really. Now go!” Piper yelled at him as he tossed it and the scary oozing acid gun into the back of the SUV where Dylan and Abby had loaded it up already with more weapons than Jameson had carried into war.

  29

  Ariana woke up slowly. She was first aware of a splitting headache. Then she was aware that she couldn’t open her mouth and she panicked. She tried to rip whatever was over her mouth off, only to find her hands were tied behind her back, her ankles were tied together, and she was on the floor in the back of a moving vehicle.

  Ari screamed as loudly as she could behind the tape covering her mo
uth. She was in darkness, and when she calmed she realized a blanket had been thrown over her. She kicked out and hit the side of the car.

  “Stop it or I’ll give you another sedative.”

  Ariana stilled. She didn’t want to lose consciousness again. She had no idea where she was or how much time had passed since she’d run out of the back of the church. Oh no! Ben. Was he alive?

  Memories of seeing the blood running through his fingers flashed into her mind. Deming’s assistant. Deming had done this and she’d make him pay. She didn’t know how, but Ariana wouldn’t willingly do whatever her kidnapper planned for her. She’d fight until the end and she’d make sure that if she went down, Deming would, too.

  Ariana closed her eyes and focused on the sounds, the smells, and the feel of her environment. The hump hitting her hip, the hardness behind her and in front of her told her she was in a typical passenger vehicle, not a utility van. The way it ran over the road, a little rougher than normal, told her she was in a SUV, probably the one all diplomats used.

  Ariana took in some deep breaths through her nose to calm herself. If she could see out the window, she’d know about what time it was. She managed to wiggle the blanket down enough that her eyes and nose were free. The sun was low in the sky indicating it was late afternoon. What had happened for the last several hours? She could be anywhere. How would they ever find her? She was going to have to rescue herself.

  Kale had called hours ago. Ariana’s phone had last been pinged on the northeast side of Lexington. Jameson had found it an hour later. It had been tossed out the window into the middle of the street—a street that led to two major interstates. I-75 traveled north and south, and I-64 traveled east and west.

  Ahmed reported that Deming knew nothing. His father had sent him here to learn about Ariana and where she stood in the Ali Rahman family. Deming had been reporting to his father daily. He’d reported that Ariana was well loved by her family, was intelligent, and had the ear of not only her father and brothers, but also the king.