"Yes, Mr. Ambassador, I have already delivered the day's mail to your desk. This came by special messenger."
At a nod from Flynn, Anton took the envelope, dismissed his assistant and closed the door.
"Better let me take a look at that first, sir," Flynn said, holding out his hand.
"It is probably the documents I had requested from your government's State Department."
"There's no official seal."
Anton started. He looked at the envelope more closely. "Rad should have noticed that."
Flynn took the envelope from him by one corner and carried it to the window. He held it up to the light and studied it carefully, then set it down on a table and bent over to inspect the glued flap. "Does your embassy security staff normally screen your correspondence?"
"Yes, of course. Since the bombing at the royal palace they have been trained to intercept anything suspicious."
Neda moved forward, then stopped. "What is it? Do you think that's a bomb? We should evacuate Sacha."
"I'll call the guards," the ambassador said.
"Hang on." Flynn continued to study it, then slipped his index finger carefully beneath the flap. He ran it under the edge slowly and peeled it back, then straightened up and left it where it was. "It's seems clear. I didn't mean to alarm you."
"Sergeant O'Toole, we have been living in a state of alarm for what seems like forever," Anton said, walking over to pick up the envelope. "You could not make it worse."
"My husband is right." Neda's smile returned. "Seeing both of you has made it better. Thank you for visiting."
"Yes, it was good to speak freely." Anton opened the envelope and glanced inside. His expression froze. He looked at Flynn, then addressed his wife. "Neda, I think I heard Sacha call. Why don't you take Miss Locke with you to check on him?"
"Anton, what is it?"
"Please, Neda." His voice grew hoarse. "Just do as I say."
Neda's face went blank. She didn't move. "Anton? You must tell me. Not knowing is worse."
He reached into the envelope and withdrew his hand. On his palm lay a lock of blond hair tied together with a piece of dirty string.
Abbie felt her stomach roll. At the same instant, from the corner of her eye she saw Neda's legs give out. She lunged for her but Flynn was there before Neda could fall. He caught her by the waist to hold her upright.
"It's Matteo's," Neda cried. "Isn't it, Anton? It's Matti's hair."
"Yes. I think so."
She clawed at Flynn's arms to free herself and stumbled to her husband. "The beasts. My God. What did they do to him?"
"It's only hair, my heart." He stroked the lock with his fingertip, his hand trembling. "It was cut. It would not have hurt. He is a brave boy. It will grow back."
As the Vilyases spoke, Flynn took a cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and punched a number. "It's O'Toole," he said, his voice low and hard. "The LLA has made contact. They didn't use the phone this time."
Abbie listened as Flynn did what had to be done, reporting the development to his team and setting the people who were covering the embassy into motion to track down the person who had delivered the envelope. Although he kept his gaze on the Vilyases while he spoke, he put his free arm around Abbie's shoulders and pulled her to his side. "Is there anything else inside, Mr. Ambassador?" he asked. "Some kind of written message?"
"One moment." Anton placed the hair in his wife's hands, careful not to lose a single strand. He reached into the envelope once more.
The words on the piece of white paper that he pulled out were written in black marker. Abbie squinted but couldn't decipher the scrawl. She realized it had to be Ladavian.
Neda looked at the words and whimpered, cradling the lock of Matteo's hair to her chest.
Anton clenched his teeth so tightly the tendons stood out in his neck. His eyes blazed as he looked at Flynn.
"Sir?" Flynn prodded. "I need to alert the team."
The ambassador shifted his gaze to Abbie. "It says you are to deliver forty million dollars next time or they will continue to return Matteo in pieces."
She felt Flynn's arm tighten on her shoulders. Her part in this wasn't over. The major had guessed correctly. She had to carry the ransom again. And she had to do it right, or the rest of Matteo would be…Oh, God! What had they used to cut his hair? How had they held him still to do it? And what would they cut off next?
Flynn's voice was hard as he relayed the information and closed the phone. "We'll obtain the additional funds and keep you informed of our progress, sir. I'll need to take that note and the envelope to be analyzed."
"Whatever you have to do," he said. His voice caught. "Do it. Anything. Whatever means you need, use them."
"We will." Flynn gave Abbie a firm squeeze, then stepped forward to take the items from Anton.
"Perhaps you don't understand me." The ambassador held himself so tightly, he was shaking. "As King Kristof's representative in your country, I am authorizing you to take any measures necessary against the citizens of Ladavia who are perpetrating this crime. There will be no diplomatic incident if these animals do not live to be extradited."
Flynn met his gaze squarely. "Believe me, I do understand, sir. We are soldiers, not policemen. We don't give Miranda warnings during a battle."
"Good." He thrust the envelope at Flynn.
Before Flynn could take it, something small and white rolled out and bounced to the carpet at his feet.
Neda screamed.
Abbie looked down.
It was a tooth.
* * *
Abbie walked the length of the warehouse, her footsteps dropping like pebbles into the cavernous silence. Her eyes were well adjusted to the darkness now. In the starlight that streamed through the windows near the roof she could see glints from the row of parked vehicles to her left. To her right, the tent's canvas walls glowed faintly, the thick fabric trapping most of the light inside. A shadow loomed near the door. That would be Specialist Gonzales who was taking his turn on watch. She reached the wall, pivoted and started back the way she had come.
So far she had done at least half a dozen circuits of the warehouse. She wasn't a jogger. She didn't belong to a health club. The exercise she got during the course of a normally hectic day at Cherry Hill School had always been enough to work off her energy.
But nothing seemed to help now. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears, yet she hadn't made a dent in the restlessness that gnawed at her.
How could Flynn and the rest of the team deal with this? How could they choose to do this kind of thing for a living? She'd been warned more than once about getting personally involved. Now she understood why.
She should have been prepared. She'd read reports in the news almost daily of the cruelty that was done around the world in the name of some cause or other. She'd also read about the soldiers and peacekeepers who were sent to the trouble spots to restore order. She'd never actually grasped the kind of inhumanity they faced.
She understood Anton Vilyas's rage. She also understood the matter-of-fact way that Flynn handled it. She had new respect for the strength it took to be a soldier. Flynn, Sarah, Rafe, the major and all the men she'd come to know never lost sight of their objective. Their priority was always the mission.
And she was right back in the middle of it.
The tone of her footsteps changed, as if they had developed a double echo. She realized she was no longer alone. She glanced over her shoulder and wasn't surprised to see Flynn approaching.
He always seemed to be there when she needed him, even before she realized she needed him.
He matched his stride to hers. "What are you doing, Abbie? I thought you were going for a shower."
"I changed my mind. I decided I need exercise more."
He walked a few steps in silence. "When I get the chance, I usually go a few rounds with a punching bag in the gym."
"What?"
"When we're out in the field and that isn't possible, I do
calisthenics. Sometimes I spread out my bedroll and do pushups. Rafe cleans guns. Sarah does Tai Chi."
"Why?"
"To work off the stress."
"That's not going to solve anything. It won't bring Matteo home safely."
"I'm not talking about solving, I'm talking about surviving. The only thing within your control is yourself. That's where you have to start."
She reflected on his words as they maneuvered around some broken wooden skids that lay in a heap on the warehouse floor. "I know you're right. That's one of my faults, trying to control things that I can't. I make all these lists and follow all these schedules, but I'm fooling myself. Nothing's really in my control."
"It's not a fault, Abbie. The way you refuse to compromise your principles is one of your strengths. It was a courageous thing you did by going to see the Vilyases today."
"I wish I could have done more. And at the same time, I wish I'd followed your advice and hadn't been there." She brushed her hair back from her forehead. She was surprised to notice that her skin was damp with sweat. She had felt chilled since they had returned from the embassy. "And I wish I hadn't been mentioned in that note. That's not very courageous."
"Do you remember what the ambassador said about bravery the first time we saw him?"
"I'm not sure."
"He said that bravery is continuing to do what you must when your heart is crying to deny the horror."
Yes, that was precisely what Anton Vilyas had said, she thought. Flynn had recalled his exact words. That didn't surprise her any more than his showing up here in the darkness had surprised her. She'd already figured out that his easygoing manner was a sham.
"Now that we've found the LLA base, there's a good chance we'll get this wrapped up before the next ransom drop is set," he said. "You won't need to do anything."
"That's not why I had to come out for a walk, Flynn."
"I know." He walked a few paces in silence, then spoke gently, going straight to the heart of her distress. "Jack studied the tooth, Abbie. He's positive it was only a baby tooth."
Her breath hitched. She wasn't wearing running shoes. She was still dressed in the sweater and slacks that she'd worn to the embassy. She didn't care. She began to jog.
He lengthened his strides. "The root was small and there was very little blood."
She increased her pace.
He matched her effortlessly. "Those marks from the pliers that you saw on it weren't deep. It's possible the tooth could have been loose to start with."
She broke into an all-out run.
He caught up to her. He wasn't even breathing hard. "Jack does marathons. For stress. Never saw the appeal of it myself, but if you want to give it a try, I'm game."
She could barely hear him over the rush of her pulse and the strain of her breathing.
"Watch out for the cables," he said.
She saw the dark mass of the electric cords that snaked across the floor in her path. She hopped over them and kept going.
"Broken crate to your right. Back wall coming up fast."
She changed direction. Her shoes slipped. She thrust out her hands to break her fall.
Flynn grabbed her from behind before she could hit the floor. With his arms locked around her waist, he braced his feet and skidded several yards across the cement. Their momentum carried them to the warehouse wall. He twisted around before they crashed into it, cushioning her with his body and taking the brunt of the impact on his shoulder.
A flashlight winked on near the opposite side of the building. Hurried footsteps approached as the beam sliced through the gloom toward them.
"It's all right, Gonzales," Flynn called.
The steps halted. "O'Toole? Is Abbie with you?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine. I tripped, that's all."
The beam played over them briefly, then flicked out. Gonzales returned to his post by the door.
Flynn set Abbie on her feet and turned her to face him. "Are you okay?"
Her lungs heaved. She put her hands on her thighs and leaned over, struggling to catch her breath.
He rubbed her back. "That's it. Slow and easy."
"I can't do this."
"Sure, you can. Do you need to sit down?"
"No, I mean I can't do this." She straightened up. "Flynn, I want to go home."
He looked at her carefully. "I don't think you mean that, Abbie."
"Yes, I do! This isn't my life. In my world, when a child loses a tooth he puts it under his pillow and dreams about the money the tooth fairy will leave for him in the morning. I was at my sister's house last month when Joshua lost his first baby tooth. He's Martha and Barry's youngest. Josh was so proud. I have pictures of his grin. He said he had a window in his mouth."
Flynn didn't say anything, he let her talk. He seemed to know that's what she needed.
"Martha has saved all of Barry Jr.'s baby teeth. He's their oldest. She has a lock of his hair, too, from his very first haircut. It's dark brown like mine and like our mom's. She tied it with a blue satin ribbon—" She clenched her jaw. She felt her eyes heat but she refused to cry. She suspected she was getting beyond tears. "It isn't right, Flynn. It isn't fair."
"No, it isn't."
"Seeing Matteo's hair tied up with that piece of filthy string, seeing his tooth on the floor…I keep picturing what those men did. And what they might do…Damn it, I can't handle this."
"You can. You are."
"No, I thought I could, but I'm a fraud. I went to see the Vilyases to offer them my friendship. I thought emotional support was what they needed, because that's what I know how to give, but what good is that against monsters who would pull a seven-year-old boy's tooth?"
"You were good for them. You held yourself together like a veteran."
"It was horrible. It was obscene."
"Yes, and you were brave. As the ambassador would say, you did what you had to do. You kept the horror inside. Now it has to come out." He opened his arms. "Come here, Abbie."
She stepped into his embrace without a second thought. She felt his strength surround her, and she turned her face to his chest. She probably should have been worried over how much she needed his embrace…but she needed it too much to be worried.
"You know I'll take you home if you ask," he said. "You don't have to go through with this. You're a civilian who's here voluntarily. The major can't make you participate in the next ransom drop against your will."
"I know," she mumbled.
"And like I said, chances are good it won't go that far. We don't want to put you in danger." He laid his cheek against her head, his breath stirring her hair. "But you don't really want to go home yet, do you?"
She shut her eyes and drew in his scent. "No."
"I didn't think so. You're not a quitter. Once you commit to something, you don't back out. I admire that."
How could someone who was so wrong for her know how to say the right thing? Friends she'd had for years didn't know her as well as Flynn seemed to.
Of course she didn't want to go home. Not really. However difficult this was, it would be harder to walk away. She would see this through to the end no matter what. "Do you think Matteo is still alive?"
He stroked her back. "Yes."
"This latest…message from the LLA. It's the first time they haven't used the phone. What does that mean?"
"They're upping the ante. They're making it clear this will be their last gambit."
"Do you think your team will save Matti?"
His hand stilled. "We'll do our damnedest."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not lying."
"You're welcome."
She splayed her fingers over his chest and lifted her head. "Flynn, could you promise me something?"
He hesitated. "What?"
"You started out with so many lies. Promise you'll always tell me the truth."
"You may not like what you hear."
"I know."
He sli
d his hand upward beneath her hair and cupped the back of her head. "The truth about the mission, or about everything, Abbie?"
Her pulse hadn't slowed down from her run. Blood throbbed heavily through her veins. She was no longer cold. Warmth flowed from Flynn's body to hers. The restlessness that had brought her out here shifted to a different level. She moistened her lips. "Everything."
His fingers tangled in her curls. He moved his legs apart and drew her more tightly to the front of his body. He lowered his head to bring his lips next to her ear. "I know another activity that's good for relieving stress, Abbie."
His tone made her thighs tingle. There had to be something wrong with her. How could she feel…aroused at a time like this?
He answered her question with his next words. "It's got something to do with the effects of adrenaline." His teeth grazed her ear lobe. "The fight or flight response. When your heart is pumping hard and your muscles are primed for action, it's only a small step to switch all that energy toward sex."
She moved her hand over his heart. The racing beat matched hers. She ran her fingers downward. Through his shirt she traced the washboard ridges of his abdomen. She felt his muscles tense, and she explored the hardened contours.
"It's about survival, too," he murmured. He drew a slow line down the side of her neck with the tip of his tongue. "Lust is a primitive emotion. It's right up there with anger and fear."
She tipped her head back, exposing her throat to his mouth.
"Lust can let you shut down your brain." He bent down to press his lips to the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. "It's the ultimate way of living in the moment and forgetting everything that's happening around you."
He was right, she thought. The images that had tormented her since Anton had opened that envelope were fading beneath a warm haze of sensation. She wanted to seize this moment and make it last. She didn't want to think, she wanted to feel. She found the buttons on the front of his shirt, wrenched them open and slid her hands inside.
His skin was hot and smooth where it stretched over his ribs. She ran her hands up his chest, feeling the crisp tickle of hair on her palms. She spread her fingers, wanting to absorb as much sensation as fast as she could.
He caught her wrists to hold her hands still. "Damn, that feels good."
Seven Days to Forever Page 14
