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45 |Route A1, Poland Present Day
Acton had had too many opportunities to escape, but there was no way he would do it. Not with Laura still in the car. If he got away, he had no idea what they’d do to her, and he couldn’t risk it. Yet it also gave him hope that she could succeed where he had intentionally failed.
She had received the same training he had, knew what to do in these situations, and was the strongest woman he had ever met. If anyone could do it, she could.
He climbed back in the car, the door slammed shut behind him, then their captor rounded the rear of the vehicle and opened the opposite door.
“Let’s go.”
Laura flashed him a smile, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod, his eyes imploring her to follow through on their plan. The door closed and he watched them head for the bathrooms. A crowd of tourists approached, and he suppressed a gasp when Laura whipped around, grabbing her captor’s wrist and bending it down, the expression on his face revealing his intense pain. She booted him in the head then sprinted, screaming something and pointing at the downed man, a large crowd converging on the area.
The driver cursed and threw his door open. Acton reached forward and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, holding him in place, then dragged him into the back seat so he could inflict some real damage.
The door opened and a gun pressed against his temple.
“I’ll kindly ask you to stop that, Professor.”
Acton let go, cursing, their captor already returned. The door slammed shut once again, and within moments, they were underway.
Yet it didn’t matter.
Laura had escaped, and now, should he die, he could die knowing that she was safe and among friends who loved her.
Laura sprinted toward the largest group of men she could see, a football team from the looks of it. She glanced over her shoulder to see her captor climbing into their SUV and leaving, her beloved James still in the back seat, staring at her.
But she was free, their captors gone, and now it was up to her to save him.
She knew him so well, she hadn’t been surprised when he had returned from the bathroom. There was no way he would be the one who escaped—it was always going to be her. He was too chivalrous to leave her behind.
And now that she was free, she had to be as calm as possible, as smart as possible. Calling local police would just delay things, and probably prevent her from making further calls for perhaps hours. She had to call someone who would believe her immediately, and would know who to call to take action.
Hugh!
Reading was one of her best friends, Interpol, and was the exact person she needed to contact. One of the men asked her something in Polish, concern on his face. She waved him off, feeling safe now, and not wanting to draw any more attention to herself now that her captors had left.
“Are you okay?” he asked in English.
“Yes, thank you. I guess you should never accept rides from strangers.”
The man nodded, along with the others. “Especially as a woman. Can we help? Do you need a ride?”
She smiled. “That would just be getting a ride from more strangers, now, wouldn’t it?”
His jaw dropped, the poor man uncertain of what to say.
She laughed. “I’m just joking with you. I’m okay, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m just going to call for a friend to pick me up. Thank you.”
She hurried toward a small restaurant, spotting a payphone in a hallway to the left. She picked up the receiver and dialed the operator, shaking with relief as her ordeal was finally over, and, she feared, her husband’s was only about to get worse.