Forgiving Paris: A Novel(31)

None of them would ever have to work another night in their lives.

Jack stood and sauntered to the railing. Adrenaline already flowed through his veins. On the day of a raid, the waiting was the hardest part. He went over the plan again. While six of the SEALs secured the building, apprehending the guards at every entrance, two more would break into the fourth floor. Anders’s private quarters. Those SEALs would kick through the windows and, they hoped, catch him by surprise. Then, like his men, he would be arrested or neutralized.

If the mission went according to plan, that part would take about five minutes.

At that time, once the guards were no longer a threat, a signal would be given alerting Jack that he and Agent Terri could approach the boardroom at the back of the house and rescue the girls. She wasn’t the driver of the bus any longer. That was TJ. Terri would be with the girls. Oliver thought the young ones might trust a female agent, and Jack agreed.

TJ would drive the bus to a nearby bluff, while the SEALs would continue to sweep the rest of the Palace and take Anders and his apprehended men to the Palace’s grassy yard.

Seconds after the bus pulled up at the bluff, an Army Chinook helicopter, manned by another four Night Stalkers, would land and the girls and agents would be helped inside. The Chinook would fly to Placencia Peninsula, forty minutes south. From there a private plane waiting at the Placencia Maya Airstrip would take the group to the San Antonio airport, and on to the FBI building.

So many details. Jack took a deep breath. He could see the raid, hear it. Feel it.

The sun reflected off the water and splashed diamonds across the clear blue sea. By tonight he’d be back in his own bed. And Anders and his men and Betsy Norman would be on a second Black Hawk helicopter headed for federal prison.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken.

—Isaiah 54:10



The raid was about to go down.

Eliza had gathered the girls and brought them to the boardroom. Two guards stood watch just outside the double doors. Inside, she was holding court the way she had far too many times. Tonight’s lesson was on kindness. Of all things.

“Be kind to the customers, and they’ll be kind to you,” Eliza said. She detested herself for moments like this, times when she had coaxed the girls to stay submissive, to listen to her father and make him happy.

At least this is the last time I have to do this, she told herself.

Rosa raised her hand and shrugged. “That doesn’t always work, Eliza. Last night…”

The sweet girl launched into a story, but Eliza couldn’t listen, couldn’t stomach the details. She had to focus on the mission. They had eight minutes. Suddenly Eliza remembered. She didn’t have her knife. Whatever was coming, she had no way to defend herself.

Images flashed in her mind. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Today on the beach she had finished Chapter Thirteen, the part where Edmund was about to be killed by the Witch, but Aslan rescued him. Only then did the Witch bring up an irrefutable point. Edmund had been a traitor and he deserved death.

Eliza blinked. Wasn’t that her? The Edmund of the story? Acting as traitor to every single girl in the room?

Rosa’s sad tale was winding down.

Six minutes. Eliza walked to the room’s entrance and pretended to pick up something from the floor. Instead she slid the wedge under the door. The whole time she kept talking. “Kindness puts people at ease. And when people are at ease…”

She crossed the room and opened the window. “It’s warm in here. We need some air.”

“Eliza.” Across the room she saw Rosa furrow her brow. “We aren’t supposed to open the windows.”

“I know.” Eliza tried to remember what Jack told her. Give them a wink or a smile. So they want to go along. Already the girls were dressed for the evening, in every sort of silk nightgown and sheer robe. They wore heavy eye makeup and lipstick and hairstyles far too sophisticated for their ages. Together they looked like little lambs headed for the slaughter.

Not tonight, Eliza steadied herself. Not ever again.

Finally she was doing something good for the girls. Even if it killed her. In minutes they would leave this place and the girls would never serve another customer again. Hurry, Luke. Hurry.

A clock hung on the wall. Good thing, she thought. Because otherwise, Eliza wouldn’t have known how much time she had.

In the distance she heard a loud rhythmic whirring. Four minutes. They would be the longest four minutes in Eliza’s life. What was this feeling? Until Jack, Eliza had never felt fear. Sadness, disgust… anxiety over the plans her father had for her. But never fear. Not like this.

Suddenly there came the sound of breaking glass and men yelling, one floor up, maybe two.

The girls all looked to her, their eyes wide. “Eliza… what’s happening?” one of the youngest teens cried out. “I’m scared.”

“I’m not sure.” Eliza swallowed hard. It was the last time she would lie to the girls. “But whatever it is… I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Two minutes. There were muffled explosions and popping sounds from upstairs. Eliza clapped her hands. “Tell you what, let’s take an adventure into the yard!”

Terror flickered in Rosa’s eyes. “No, Eliza.” She took a few steps back. “We can never… ever go outside without Anders or the guards. You know that.”