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Tommy saluted them as if to say, “Carry on.”

The truck sped on ahead of them and Julie finally caught her breath. Tommy held up his phone to show her a red blinking “95” on the screen.

“See,” Tommy said. “Pretty accurate, huh.”

Julie let out a big sigh. “Weren’t you worried?”

“About what?”

She waved her hand at the back of the speeding truck. “That?”

“Nah,” Tommy said. “I saw them peeling out of the gas station a few miles back. I knew they were coming.”

Julie looked down at her trembling hands. She wanted to know what made him so confident, so secure in his decisions. Before she could say anything, Tommy had grabbed her left hand and looked at her with a level gaze. For once there was no humor in his expression.

“Look,” he said swapping his attention between Julie and the road. “I know what you meant.” His voice turned harsh. “It’s just that the people who are trying to hurt Nick are foreigners. And I’m sorry, but no punk from Turkey is going to come into my country and take out a Bracco. It’s just not happening.”

Julie nodded meekly and Tommy seemed to notice her uncertainty.

“Okay,” Tommy went on. “You see that kid in the jail cell? Semir? You look into his eyes and you tell me there’s any real creative intelligence going on. That guy is just smart enough to follow directions, and no more. I wouldn’t trust him to pick me out a decent loaf of bread at the grocery store.”

Tommy held up his index finger. “There’s only one guy who knows what he’s doing and that’s this Barzani guy. We get him …” Tommy shrugged. “Game over.”

He gave Julie his best ‘Trust me’ smile, then put both hands on the wheel.

Julie guided him into the side road which took them to her gravel driveway, seventy-five yards of tires crunching and shock absorbers working overtime. Tommy parked sideways in front of the single level cabin. It was tucked away in the woods with a small man-made lake in the backyard. Both Nick and Julie had loved the remoteness of the place when they bought it, but now solitude felt closer to dangerous, than peaceful seclusion. She opened the door and immediately Tommy headed for the kitchen.

“You got anything to eat, Jule? I never had lunch today,” Tommy said, opening up the refrigerator.

Julie slid past him and pulled out a tray of leftover lasagna. She cut a piece for him, then put it in the microwave and set it for ninety seconds.

“Thanks,” Tommy said, then shooed her away. “Go grab some clothes and let’s get going.”

There was no urgency in his voice, but she’d been down this road before. After fifteen years as an FBI agent’s wife, she knew enough to stay one step ahead of trouble.

She went into her bedroom and began throwing shirts and jeans on her bed. She kept opening and closing drawers searching for matching outfits. As she made her third trip into her walk-in closet, she checked out the stack of books on a shelf above her shoes. There were books on marriage, self-help books, even some autobiographies she’d enjoyed. Her friends teased her because she’d never read any James Patterson or John Grisham thrillers, but the truth was she’d had enough harrowing experiences in her life. She didn’t need to read about anyone else’s drama.

Julie grabbed a book on finance. Maybe learn how to invest their money better since she’d taken a year off of teaching to move to the mountain community. She turned to go throw the book on her bed and screamed. A man wearing black fatigues stood in her closet doorway with a sinister grin and a pistol trained on her.

“Don’t do that again or I’ll have to use this,” the man sneered.

A surge of blood and nerves rushed into Julie’s head and tightened into a bottleneck around her throat. “Who … who …”

“The name’s Buck Martin,” he said. “I work for a private security force called Iron Mountain.”

Julie’s mouth dried up and her knees seemed unable to hold her up. “But, I don’t underst-”

“Yeah,” Buck said, standing there wearing a communication headset and seeming to understand what she wanted to ask. “I get that all the time. Aren’t I too old to be playing soldier?”

Julie’s breathing became erratic and she needed to sit. He must’ve noticed her struggling because he stepped aside and gestured to the bed.

“Go ahead, Mrs. Bracco,” the man said. “Sit down.”

Buck moved just enough to allow Julie to squeeze out of the closet. He gently pressed his pelvis into her tiny frame as she passed through.

Julie sat on the edge of the bed and held her stomach. Nick had trained her to be aggressive in these situations. The quicker, the better. Before the assailant could decide whether he was prepared to kill. She was ready to attack, kick him hard in the nuts and grab the gun. If she was alone she wouldn’t have hesitated, but she wasn’t alone. She was carrying her baby now and it made her wait. She turned into pure protective mode.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Julie said, the words vibrating out of her mouth.

“I’ll bet you would,” he said, looking her over like a fine piece of steak. “And I could show you a thing or two around the bedroom.” He grabbed his crotch with his free hand. The gun was still pointed directly at her.

Julie’s stomach lurched at the man’s lascivious expression. She crossed her legs and wondered about Tommy. Was he dead?

“Here’s what we do,” Buck said, suddenly looking businesslike. “I’m going to give you the phone and you’re going to call your husband. You’re going to tell him you’re not feeling too well. You feel sick. See if he volunteers to come home. If he doesn’t, you ask him to come home.”

Julie listened, trying to remember certain phrases she could say that would tip Nick off. She was light-headed and not thinking right. It was all happening too fast. Her baby. She felt grateful she was too early in the pregnancy to begin showing.

Buck pulled a small sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Julie. “Here are the exact words you are to say. Should you throw in even one extra syllable, I’ll shoot you.”

Julie looked at the words on the sheet. They were hard to see. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were blurry from tears. She wiped her cheeks, took a breath and gathered herself. She knew she had to attack him. Every second she waited worked against her.

Buck looked around the room. “There’s no phone in here.”

“No,” Julie said, irrationally hoping that caused a severe delay in his plans.

He pressed the remote device on his collar and spoke into his headset. “Travis,” he barked, bring me a house phone in here.”

Buck stood there with a sly grin and gestured his gun upward. “Let’s have a little peek,” he said staring at her chest.

Julie pulled down her shirt, ready to go, wanting to go. Now.

Buck seemed to sense her attitude. He held the gun to her head and said, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? Because I’m getting paid a hundred thousand dollars to kill you, so if you get hasty-I collect sooner.”

Julie tried to focus. With every move he made, she considered her assault. If she raised her shirt, maybe he’d get careless and drop his guard. He might reach for her breast and that could give her an opening. She uncrossed her legs and prepared herself.

Buck stepped back for a moment and pushed the button on his collar. “Travis, where’s that phone?”

Then to Julie he added, “But I get another two hundred thousand for your husband. And that’s some real incentive. So let’s do this the right way and I’ll make it quick.”

He looked at the closed bedroom door and his face turned harsh. Into his headset, he barked, “Travis? Marshall? Will?”

His somber face told her he wasn’t getting any response. Julie wondered now about Tommy. Buck never mentioned him and it gave her hope. He took a step toward the door, then thought about it. Julie didn’t remember closing the door. He glanced outside through the open shades. The windows faced the front of the house. Julie couldn’t see any other cars. The sun was beginning to set, throwing streaks of light through the bare fall trees. The nearest house was almost a mile away, so screaming was worthless.