55

LAGOS, NIGERIA

FRIDAY, 12:00 P.M. WEST AFRICA TIME (7:00 A.M. EST)

As the car pulled away, Judd decided on his next move. If they were going to kill him, whoever they were, if they had already murdered all the others, then he was going down fighting. That’s the brave thing to do. That’s what Jessica would do. Yes, once they take me to their hideout and stop the car, I’m going to—

The vehicle suddenly skidded to a halt. They hadn’t traveled far.

Judd was yanked out of the car and pushed onto the ground. His hands were untied and the hood whisked off his head. Judd recoiled from the light and covered his eyes.

But then slowly things came into focus. He was . . . in some kind of an abandoned warehouse. . . . Rows of steel pillars soared up high. . . . Bright midday light was pouring in through the holes in a crumbling ceiling. . . . There was an old white car and . . . Bola and Isabella! The two of them, sitting on the ground, also dazed and readjusting to the light. A wave of relief swept over him. He was alive. They were all alive.

“Isabella! Are you okay?”

Isabella, rubbing her newly freed wrists, stared back at him but didn’t share his relief. Her face was full of fear. And anger.

That’s when Judd noticed a single masked man standing over them. He was thin and shorter than Judd expected. A makeshift hood covered his face, with two jagged eyeholes.

“Who are you?” Judd demanded. “Where are the other men?”

“It’s me,” said a soft, familiar voice.

Judd winced in confusion.

The attacker slipped off the hood and . . . it wasn’t a man at all.

“Jessica?”

Isabella was in shock. “I . . . don’t understand.”

“How are you . . . here? In Nigeria? Why are you kidnapping us? What . . . is going on?”

“I can’t explain right now,” Jessica said quickly. “We’ve got to get all of you out of here. Without being seen. We’ve got to go now.”

“Where’s Tunde?” Judd asked. “And the security officers?”

“They’re back at the fire,” Jessica said. “Let’s go!”

“What?”

“Someone had to see the van go up in flames. I had to have witnesses. It had to be credible. I needed the assassination to be convincing.”

“Whose assassination?” Bola asked.

“Yours,” she said.

“Qué jodienda!” Isabella was furious. “What is going on here?”

“I—” Judd wasn’t sure what to say.

Isabella turned on Jessica. “We’re not going anywhere until you explain!”

At that moment a fat bald head stepped out from behind a steel column. “Yes, love, do explain,” Mikey said.