31
The amphitheater was packed.
As Doud drove past the gently sloping terrain that led down to the stage, Kristin’s stomach lurched. Hundreds of people were gathered around the raised platform in the distance, swaying to the big band sound of “In the Mood” being played by an orchestra of uniformed servicemen and women.
In a handful of minutes, Ryan planned to wade into the midst of the festive group and sow destruction.
But she wasn’t going to let him.
Pulse accelerating, she curled her fingers into tight fists as he continued past the crowd, toward the adjacent parking lot.
As far as she could tell, it contained only vehicles. No people.
The perfect place to implement her plan.
A ranger stepped out from the side of the road as they approached and lifted a hand.
The car slowed, and Ryan dropped his hand to his lap. Wrapped his fingers around the button.
Her heart stuttered.
If this ranger caused them any trouble, Ryan might not wait to plunge into the crowd to detonate the bomb. Despite her skimpy knowledge of explosives, she’d read enough suicide-bombing news stories to know that such a blast had a wide radius.
And many of the people in the amphitheater were within the danger zone.
Ryan braked and lowered his window halfway.
“Afternoon, folks.” The ranger leaned down and smiled into the car. “You here for the VFW event?”
“Yes.”
Despite Ryan’s terse response, the man’s genial demeanor didn’t waver. “It’s quite a party. And you’re getting here at the perfect time. The band just started playing. We had a big backup trying to get into the park about an hour ago, but you missed all that.”
Ryan’s leg began to jiggle. “So where do we park?”
“Well, that’s the one downside to arriving a little late. The lot’s pretty full. Those buses took up more space than we expected.” He waved toward the six motor coaches that filled the whole first row.
“We can squeeze in somewhere.”
“There are only two more rows, and they’re mostly full except for a few spots we’re saving for handicapped people. With a group like this, we have quite a few of those. If you folks don’t mind a short walk, we’re asking able-bodied visitors to pull down the service road and park on the grass alongside.” He motioned to a small road that veered off the parking lot on the far end.
A few cars were scattered on the grass—and that location was even farther from the crowd.
Better.
With every yard they put between themselves and the open expanse in front of the amphitheater, fewer people would be affected by the explosion.
“Fine. We’ll park down there.” Ryan started to close the window.
“One other thing.” The chatty ranger’s amiable smile held despite the abrupt response.
A muscle twitched in Ryan’s cheek, and Kristin held her breath until he lowered the window again. “Yes?”
“A tip for when you leave. Instead of coming back this way, continue on the service road. It will hook you up to the street that leads to that picnic shelter.” He pointed out the pavilion at the end of the road, on a small height. “That will take you to Grant, which will get you out of the park. You’ll have much less congestion going that way. It’s no fun to fight traffic at the end of an enjoyable evening.”
“Thanks.” Ryan activated the electric window again. It rolled up and shut tight, sealing them inside. “Like I really care about driving out of this place, you moron.”
As he muttered the derisive comment, he drove forward and took a right onto the service road. A couple hundred feet down, he swung in beside another car parked on the grass and shut off the engine.
“Finally.” He gave the peaceful, bucolic surroundings a slow sweep.
Kristin did the same. The green rolling hillside was empty save for some wooded patches in the distance. Behind them, the other side of the road was dense with trees and undergrowth. All seemed quiet.
He turned to her. “Open your door.”
As she did so, he grasped her upper arm in a steel grip, clutching the detonation button in his other hand.
“I thought you w-wanted me to get out?”
“I do. But we’re doing this together. From now on, you and I are joined at the hip. Swing your legs out and scoot to the edge of the seat.”
He was getting out on her side?
“Move!”
She eased around and lowered her feet to the grass. A few seconds later her seat sagged as he moved behind her, so close she could feel his body heat.
She tried not to retch.
“Here’s how this is going to work, Kristin.” His hot breath scorched her ear as he spoke. “After we’re out of the car, I’m going to wind the cord into my hand. Then we’ll walk toward the amphitheater. I’ll be behind you, my hand in the small of your back with the coiled cord and the detonation button. And I’m going to keep shifting us around as we walk.”
“W-why?”
“In case anyone is watching us. I think we’re clear, but if we’re not, it’s always harder to hit a moving target. All you have to do is keep walking and follow my lead. Got it?”
She gave a jerky nod.
But as he urged her out of the car, she planned to do a lot more than follow his lead like a sheep to slaughter.
She was going to take the lead.
Ryan might be willing to die in order to kill other people—but she was willing to die to save other people.
For all his careful planning, she doubted he’d factored that kind of sacrifice into his equation.
But if her courage held, in less than a minute he was going to find out that for all his hatred of America and Christians, the values of her country and her faith were going to prove more powerful in the end than his ideology of hatred and intolerance.
They were getting out of the car.
From his concealed position behind a large oak tree in a thicket of greenery, Luke tried to steady the binoculars he’d trained on the duo.
Hard to do with the quiver in his fingers.
Nick’s curt voice spoke in his earpiece. “Brett—status report.”
“Subject is too close to hostage. Waiting for clear line of sight.”
“You’ve got thirty yards. Max.”
“Understood.”
As Luke listened to the conversation, some of the stiffening went out of his legs.
Thirty yards gave the FBI sniper a very small window in which to work—and Ryan was sticking tight to Kristin.
Even worse, he was on her far side. And he was tugging her around, weaving back and forth, scanning the surroundings. Like he knew he was being watched—and was doing his best to make it hard for anyone to get a clear shot at him.
“I think he might have spotted us tailing him.” This from Nick. “All that bobbing and weaving is suspicious.”
Luke spoke into the mic clipped to his collar. “Or he’s being cautious.”
“Doesn’t matter the reason. If we don’t get a shot, we’ll have to go with plan B.”
The one involving the guy in the bomb suit, who was approaching from the other end of the parking lot.
The one that guaranteed Kristin would die.
“Not the best solution.” He snapped out the words as his control slipped, the binoculars glued to his face. “With a sniper shot, at least she has a chance, however small. The other way, she—”
He frowned.
Zoomed in tight on Kristin’s face.
She had a nasty purple bruise on her jaw—but that wasn’t what made the panic alert beeping in his mind go berserk.
There was no tension in her features. No fear in her eyes. She appeared calm. Resolute. Almost as if she’d switched to autopilot for some predetermined sequence of activity.
But what kind of activity? What options did she . . .
His heart stumbled as the truth slammed into him like a punch in the gut.
Kristin sold candles to support monks who helped those in need. She’d donated two years of her life to service in the Peace Corps. She ran a shop that gave an economic assist to people struggling to make a living in less developed countries.
This was a woman who cared passionately about others.
Who would never put her own needs above the needs of someone else.
Who would sacrifice her own life to save the lives of innocent people.
“Luke? What’s going on?” There was an edge to Nick’s voice.
In his peripheral vision, he saw the agent edge out from behind the nearby tree where he’d secreted himself.
Kristin fisted her hands.
“She’s going to detonate it herself!” His words came out ragged.
Kristin lifted her chin.
His pulse began to gallop. “Brett—take your shot!”
Kristin’s chest heaved.
“Nick—give the order!”
As he barked out the command, Kristin wrenched free of Ryan’s grip, swung around, and yanked at the cord in his hand.
“Kristin! No!” Luke bellowed the desperate plea.
Two shots exploded in rapid succession.
Ryan jerked.
Blood spurted.
And Kristin went down.
What had just happened?
From the kneeling position she’d dropped to when her legs gave out, Kristin sank back on her heels and blinked.
Blinked again as she tried to put together the pieces.
An explosion.
Blood.
She studied the bright red spatters on her shirt.
Odd.
Nothing hurt.
Or was she too numb to feel pain?
She lifted her hand and examined her fingers.
Everything appeared to be intact.
Yet Ryan was lying in a twisted heap on the ground beside her.
He was dead . . . but she wasn’t?
Nothing was computing.
All she knew with absolute certainty was that she was still strapped into a suicide vest.
“Kristin!”
The voice again.
The one that sounded like Luke’s.
She lifted her head. Searched the surrounding hills.
There.
In the distance, a male figure waving at her.
It was Luke.
He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Help is on the way, Kristin. Don’t talk. Don’t move!”
Not a problem.
Her muscles had turned to mush, and her vocal cords had shut down.
Besides, since by some miracle her attempt to blow herself up had apparently failed, she wasn’t about to finish by accident what fate—or God—had derailed.
Luke disappeared over the crest of a hill, but she followed his instructions and remained motionless beside Ryan’s lifeless body.
Time passed. How much, she had no idea. But at last someone in what looked like a space suit approached her from the direction of the parking lot.
No, not a space suit.
A bomb suit.
She’d seen photos of them on TV.
The figure drew closer but didn’t speak until he was less than twenty feet away.
“Ms. Dane, I’m Special Agent John Lawrence with the FBI.” His tone was calm as he continued to walk toward her, like they were having a chat at Starbucks. “I’m a bomb technician. We’re going to get you out of that rig as fast as we can. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her acknowledgment squeaked out.
Somehow, despite the bulky suit, he managed to hunker down on one knee beside her. “Before I touch anything, tell me what you know about this vest and how it was put on.”
Somehow Kristin managed to walk him through what she’d found in Ryan’s kitchen and how he’d strapped her into the vest, answering all of his questions as best she could.
No, he hadn’t mentioned anything about a timer.
No, there were no locks on the vest, just straps.
No, as far as she knew there was only the one detonation button that had never been far from his hand.
“It’s right t-there.” She flicked a glance to the button at the end of the wire that protruded from the bottom of her vest and snaked across the grass.
As he angled sideways to size it up, she began to shake.
Hard.
Her stomach bottomed out.
No! She had to remain motionless! Ryan had warned her that too much movement could set the bomb off.
“Agent L-Lawrence.” He refocused on her at once. “I can’t stop shaking. I-I’m afraid I’ll make this blow up.”
“If you haven’t set it off yet, I don’t think we need to worry about that.” He continued to speak in a smooth, reassuring tone. “But we’re going to get it off of you fast. I have an assistant on the way who will help with that task. I think you know him. A detective by the name of Carter.”
Luke was going to get up close and personal with this bomb?
The taste of fear soured her tongue. “I don’t want him anywhere near this thing.”
“He’ll be suited up, like me.”
“I don’t care. It’s too risky.” At this range, those suits wouldn’t offer sufficient protection if the vest detonated. It was bad enough she and this technician could be blown to bits. Luke didn’t need to put himself in the danger zone too.
“As I understand it, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had some guys from the County unit haul their equipment out here, and his bomb squad background gives him the credentials to assist.”
Kristin stared at the FBI tech.
Luke had a background working with bombs?
The man was full of surprises.
Including the fact that he planned to put his own life on the line instead of staying on the sidelines until Agent Lawrence disposed of the vest.
Pressure built behind Kristin’s eyes as the implication of his choice sank in—and despite the explosive vest strapped around her body, warmth overflowed in her heart.
As did hope.
Because only a man whose feelings ran as true and deep as hers would take such a risk.
And if God had brought her this far, surely he was going to keep her safe until she could step into Luke’s arms and give him a proper thank-you.