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King's Ransom (The Xander King Series Book 3)

Page 8

by Bradley Wright


  Xander looked up, averting his eyes from the screen, and searched the stands for Jack and Viktor.

  “Jack! Viktor!”

  It was all he could do to shout their names. He had a new feeling, something he had never felt before, and whatever it was stole his ability to think straight. After a moment of hearing his own voice echo back to him, he forced himself to his feet. Even that was a struggle. From his right, he could hear the two of them making their way to the middle of the field. He took another deep breath, but this new feeling wouldn’t leave him.

  Helplessness.

  That’s what it was. Never in his life had he felt it, and it was quickly draining the qualities that made him who he was. His fearlessness was being overshadowed, and like an elephant standing on his chest, this sense of helplessness wasn’t allowing him to recover.

  “What are we going to do?” he asked Jack.

  Jack immediately recognized the helpless feeling in Xander’s eyes. He remembered seeing it in the mirror after he found out that his daughter had cancer. Jack knew all too well how that feeling could affect a man. That didn’t make it any easier to comfort Xander, because he too had no idea what to do. But he had to say something.

  “If what that man said is true, and all the world has access to this video feed, that means the greatest minds in our intelligence community are already workin’ on this, Xander. The brightest of the bulbs are figurin’ out exactly how to find her as we speak.”

  Xander immediately thought of Marv. And then immediately he thought of Sam. If Sam were there with him, she would know what to do. Or at least where to start. He nodded to Jack. And for once, he was happy that Viktor knew to keep his mouth shut. He just needed to think. He looked back up at the screen, back up at Natalie.

  Use it, Xander. She needs you, get a good look at her. She is there because of you. Now figure it out. Talk to me, Natalie . . . Where are you?

  As he spoke those words to himself, he also began to replay Khatib’s words back in his head. He closed his eyes, and he could hear the man taunting him. Jack turned to Viktor and ushered him back a few feet. He was giving Xander a moment to work it out. Xander continued to flow through the words he had just heard, and then something hit him. Like a left hook to the jaw, the words “before all hope of saving her washes away,” smacked his brain inside his head. He reached for his phone and dialed Sam. He sent up a silent prayer that she was already in Paris.

  Sam answered the phone. “Xander, where are you? Are you all right?”

  “Sam! Where are you?”

  Just the sound of her voice felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around him.

  “We are just getting into our SUV. Tell me where you are and we will be on our way.”

  For the first time that day, Xander felt his first twinge of hope.

  “We’re at the Stade de France. Sam, please tell me you saw—”

  “We saw it. I’m so sorry, Xander. But we are going to find her,” Sam told him. She said it with such matter-of-factness that the helplessness he was feeling took another blow and felt like it just might be on its way out.

  After a pause, they both said the same four words in exact unison.

  “She’s near the water.”

  They couldn’t see each other, but a thin and hopeful smile grew across each of their faces.

  Akram Khatib’s game had seemed unwinnable just moments ago. But now that the undefeated team had just pulled itself together, anything was possible.

  Wanderlust

  “Where to, ma’am?” The Middle Eastern cab driver asked.

  Adeline wore a huge smile. “I was hoping you could help with that.”

  “I’ll try. What do you want to do? Party?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Maybe it’s the way you’re dressed,” he said.

  “Where do all the young people go to party here? Is there one place that stands out?”

  The cab driver smiled at Adeline in the rearview mirror. “Wanderlust.”

  “Wanderlust?” Adeline smiled back at the cab driver, though she didn’t really like the look he was giving her. “Wanderlust, that’s so weird! That’s the one I got an e-mail from earlier! Let’s do it!”

  She tried to sound excited, and she was, but the cab driver kind of creeped her out. Normally, Adeline would have called Uber. She had no idea how cabs even existed in 2016. But she also knew they were far better for what she and Karol were getting into. She could pay the cab driver cash. Uber didn’t even accept payment outside of their phone app, and it tracked every move she made. Adeline thought she was being smart in using this mode of transportation. She thought she was outsmarting the Secret Service. Her miscalculations began when she left her cell phone powered on. The driver began to pull away.

  “Wait! Wait just a second please, sir,” Karol said to the cab driver. Then she just stared at Adeline expectantly.

  “What?” Adeline asked.

  “You think a cab will keep them from finding us?”

  “Like, totally. I’ll pay with cash. Come on, Karol. We’ve got to think like outlaws to keep them away from us long enough to have a little fun.” Adeline was glowing with pride.

  Karol rolled her eyes. “Then you’d better let me do the thinking. You’ve been far too sheltered under the presidential umbrella, girl.”

  Adeline looked confused. That look turned to shock when Karol snatched Adeline’s phone from her hand, rolled down the cab window, and tossed both of their phones into a nearby garbage can.

  “Karol! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Addie, wake up. They can totally track us through our phones. As long as we have them, they will know exactly where we are.”

  Adeline’s expression morphed into one of wonder. Karol watched as her friend’s pretty face slowly revealed the understanding that her brain finally tapped into. “Good thing you have me around, girl.”

  “You are good, Karol. I’m super impressed!”

  Poor Adeline knew she had always been more beauty than brains, but that had always been part of her charm. The cab pulled away from the trash can and on toward Wanderlust. After Adeline received the e-mail earlier, she googled top places to party in Paris, and the warehouse-style nightclub overlooking the river had been amongst the first to pop up. So she knew immediately which club the cab driver was talking about. She remembered the club touted itself as the largest nightclub in Paris. It had an outdoor music plaza, restaurants, several bars, and an indoor nightclub as well. The DJ advertised on the website was one Adeline hadn’t heard of, but Karol said he was “totes amaze.” The pictures made it look fun. They were all filled with people their age packed in by the hundreds. It seemed a perfect place for the two of them to blend in and get lost for a while. And maybe even meet a couple of hot guys.

  As the cab sped through the crowded streets of Paris, Adeline turned to Karol, an excited smile on her face. “Okay, Vodka Red Bull’s to get us started, and maybe a shot of tequila?”

  “Tequila?” Karol made a sour face. “I can’t do tequila. Not after my disaster at prom. I’ll puke for sure.”

  “Okay, we’ll do like a Washington Apple or something. You think bartenders in Paris know how to make shots like that? OMG, I wonder how many cute guys will be there? Let’s not pay for a drink all night!”

  Karol smiled. “When was the last time you paid for a drink at a bar?”

  “Never! Being a girl is so awesome!”

  The two of them shared a laugh. Their spirits were high. They were in a cool new city, headed toward a night out, and they had managed to ditch their supervision. They were riding high, and a feeling of invincibility washed over both of them.

  “Wanderlust,” said Adeline as she stared at the lights of the city that were shining just outside her window. “What a perfect name. I have a feeling tonight is going to be a wonderful adventure.”

  The feeling of freedom that came over the young woman was a feeling she didn’t get all that often. Most twenty-
one-year-olds went away to college and freely explored who they were and what they wanted to be. That exploration came in many forms. Of course, there were classes, books, and grades to worry about. But it was the time being free with your friends that she thought helped you most figure it all out. Though she was away at college, the President’s daughter never went anywhere alone. And that, unfortunately, meant parties as well. She never cared about trying drugs, getting wasted all the time, and sleeping with a bunch of random guys. But the fact that she couldn’t even entertain those notions made her feel as though she was missing out. She figured that was the draw of sneaking out. She didn’t want to cause worry. She didn’t want to cause trouble for her SS guard, Jeremy, but she had to go and let her hair down. She wanted to be able to tell a story or two of how she got out and made a few bad decisions when she was young. Isn’t that how you learn?

  She knew her thinking was silly. But a part of her believed that times like tonight were necessary. She decided that she would let “Future Adeline” worry about the consequences tomorrow. And there would be consequences. For now, however, she and Karol were free.

  A Different Kind of Bad Guy

  Akram Khatib took the last sip of his coffee and sat the mug down on his desk. He didn’t like to drink coffee, but he knew it was going to be a long night. He didn’t like putting anything but the purest of things in his body. He didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, and only ate the healthiest of foods. He treated his body as his temple. And it showed. He loved the way that other men looked upon him with envy when they saw his physique, and he loved it even more when the women couldn’t look away.

  He walked to the center of the room, dropped down and ripped off fifty push-ups with ease. He did this a lot when he was anxious. There was a lot riding on this night. When most others would become weak and reach for a drink to calm their nerves, Akram worked it out through exercise. He was much too strong to give in to those weak-minded urges. He had always felt anyone who did was certainly inferior to him.

  He popped up from the floor, his breathing as normal as it would be if he had never even done the push-ups. He walked over to the small bathroom, flipped on the light, and gazed at himself in the mirror. For a moment he saw his much older brother staring back at him. He looked away, then looked back and was happy to see himself again. Though he looked like his brother, he was nothing like him. Sanharib was weak. He was old school as well. That is why it was difficult for them to get along, until of course Sanharib needed some dirty work done. He had felt much older earlier in the day when he wore the abaya and the turban. He only wore it to help conceal his identity. He hated wearing those traditional garments. Now that he was back in his tactical gear, a long-sleeve black T-shirt tucked into his black military cargo pants, he felt like himself again. And he felt ready for whatever the night might bring.

  “Revenge,” he said aloud to himself. His jaw clenched and his muscles tightened at the thought of Xander King. His brother’s murderer. So full of all that American arrogance. They all thought they knew everything. How every country and every religion should go about their business. Akram knew that is what brought Xander to take it upon himself to murder Sanharib. That American attitude of “I can come and go as I please.” Bullshit. He felt himself swell with rage as he thought about the audacity of the American soldier. He wanted not only to teach him a lesson by taking away what he loved—the horse, Natalie Rockwell—but also to teach him cause and effect on an even larger scale. And he also wanted to get his own hands on Xander. He didn’t want one of his men to kill him, and Akram didn’t want to simply shoot him from across the room. He wanted to take the arrogant man on and show him that American legends pale in comparison to the likes of a real soldier like himself.

  Just as a sinister smile began to show itself in his reflection, his cell phone began to ring and he walked back over to the desk to answer it. It was Tristan, a detective in the French Police Nationale he had paid off. He was hoping there would be good news.

  “Tristan. What have you learned?”

  “A lot,” Tristan answered in a thick French accent. She was brought to the Four Seasons Hotel from the airport, along with a couple of guards and a friend.

  Akram stroked his beard in delight. “Good, good. I have a contact in that hotel. I’ll have them get to work on a distraction.”

  “No need, boss.”

  “No need? How else will we get to her?”

  “She is no longer at the hotel. You won’t believe this, but my partner and I just watched her and her friend run two blocks from the hotel and get in a cab,” Tristan explained.

  “What? You are joking me. Just her and friend?” Akram was excited. His pulse quickened at the thought of the President’s daughter alone. He couldn’t believe his luck. But then again he didn’t believe in luck. Luck was for people who couldn’t make things happen.

  “Just the two of them. They were looking all around as they ran. She must have found a way to sneak away. The e-mails we’ve been sending about the club must have worked.”

  “Club?”

  “Nightclub. A place to party,” Tristan clarified.

  “Yes, of course. Young women in America like to party. This is perfect. Follow them and coordinate with Sebastian. We are going to bring the President and America to their knees!”

  “We are a couple of cars back now. They are headed along the River Seine. They are headed toward Wanderlust.”

  Akram leaned against the desk. “Will there be a crowd?”

  “There will be hundreds of partiers there. It is biggest nightclub in Paris.”

  Akram couldn’t believe his good fortune. Everything he was doing was meant to be. Allah had blessed the mission from the start. It was then that he realized why his brother had to die. It was for the greater good. The greater good that he now knew was his destiny.

  Tristan spoke up after the moment of silence. “It will be packed in the nightclub. Are you sure you want us to let her make it there?”

  “Oh yes. Very much. The more people there, the better. You just cannot lose sight of her.”

  “No chance of that, boss. I brought in a few more men. There will be several of us there. We will wait for your signal.”

  “Perfect,” Akram said. “Sebastian will have his team setting up. They will come in by boat. Just make sure she doesn’t leave.”

  “They are going to Wanderlust, so don’t worry. They won’t be leaving for a while. There will be too much partying.”

  “Make sure there is.”

  Akram ended the call. The night could not be going better. He had America’s sweetheart broadcasted live to the entire world, strung up on a wall, death closing in on both sides. He had America’s G.I. Joe, his brother’s murderer, right where he wanted him. And while Xander chased his tail trying to find his love, things were all set up to deliver the strongest blow to the US that had ever been dealt. The murder of the daughter of the President of the United States himself. The hundreds of others who would die with her would just be the icing on the massive publicity cake. The only thing that would make the night perfect would be if he got the chance to kill Xander King himself. He most likely wouldn’t make it past Akram’s men, but if by some miracle he did . . .

  Akram had a plan for that as well.

  Disconnected

  Xander, Jack, and Viktor walked out of the stadium, but not before Xander took one long, final look back at Natalie on the big screen. She continued to struggle against the restraints, the gears continued to turn, and the metal spears proceeded to inch their way toward her beautiful face. Xander could live a thousand years, and he would never forget that sight.

  “Sounds like you and Sam hit on somethin’, did you?” Jack asked. The massive stadium looked a bit fake looming over his shoulder in the night. The sound of the live feed still played over the speakers inside. The grinding away of the machine, the sobs from Natalie.

  “I think so. It isn’t much, but it is certainly better than nothing.”
>
  Viktor straightened his pants, then rubbed his fuzzy beard. “Boss, if Natalie is on water, how will we get to her?”

  “A boat, Viktor,” Jack answered. “Why don’t you leave the thinkin’ to Xander and me.”

  “I don’t do boats,” said Viktor. “Only helicopter.”

  Xander nodded. “Thanks, Viktor.”

  Xander’s phone rang. Sam. He answered. “Everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. We are about halfway there, but Marv is on the line. I’m going to patch him through.”

  Xander waited. He hoped Marv had already found something. The CIA didn’t mess around when it came to locating people.

  The phone clicked and Sam spoke up. “You still there, Xander?”

  “Here. Hey Marv, what have you got?”

  “Hey X-man. Sorry about all this, my friend, but I think we can find Natalie.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Fortunately, there isn’t a lot of traffic on the river right now, so it didn’t take long to find what we were looking for. About a half an hour ago, a camera on the Seine in the fifteenth arrondissement picked up a group of men carrying a woman on board a dinner cruise.”

  “You’re sure of that, Marv?” Xander asked. “You could tell they were escorting a woman?”

  “The footage is grainy, Xander, but it’s pretty clear that is what was happening. I have to keep studying the footage to see the details on who else got on and off the boat, but I’ll have that and the boat’s proximity on the river in just a few minutes. Hold tight and—”

  Xander heard a loud noise, almost like glass smashing, right before the line went dead. Xander took the phone from his ear, looked at it as if that would provide an answer for what he heard, then put it back to his ear.

  “Sam? Sam, are you there?” He looked at Jack. “Something happened. I heard a crash or something and we were disconnected.”

 

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