Page 14

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

J ennifer stared at her reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, her hands trembling slightly as she fastened a pearl earring. Four days on the road—sleeping in shifts, changing vehicles twice, and taking back roads—had left dark circles under her eyes that concealer couldn’t quite hide. Yet there was a steely resolve in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. She looked different, even to her own jaundiced eye.

“You ready?” Noah’s voice came from the doorway, deep and steady.

She met his gaze in the mirror. “As I’ll ever be.”

Noah leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space. Former Special Forces, now private security/bodyguard, he looked immaculate in his charcoal suit despite their chaotic journey, but Jennifer couldn’t help noticing the tension in his jaw, the vigilant assessment in his eyes as they swept over her.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly. “And brave.”

“I don’t feel brave,” she admitted, turning to face him. “I keep thinking about what Sayifa said to me that night…that no one escapes the Amirs. She blames me for Tarik’s death—even though I wasn’t even there. I think Sayifa believes I’m a curse on the entire Amir family. It wasn’t my fault her husband had an affair with my mother. He’s the one who strayed, who broke their wedding vows. I had nothing to do with it, yet she still blames me. The hate I feel when she looks at me…”

Noah crossed the room, his hands cradling her face with surprising gentleness for a man who could disarm an opponent in seconds.

“Listen to me. You’ve already proven her wrong. We’ve stayed ahead of Skinner this whole time. In a few hours, your testimony puts them away, and this nightmare ends.”

“Does it?”

Jennifer leaned against him for a moment, drawing strength from his certainty. Over the past eleven days, Noah had become her protector, her confidant, and something much more complex that neither dared name.

“Uncle Gator just checked in,” he said, dropping his hands reluctantly. “The courthouse perimeter is secure. Caleb’s downstairs. It’s time.”

The morning air hung heavy, the humidity thick enough to cut with a knife as they approached the courthouse steps. Jennifer, flanked by Noah and his brother Caleb, kept her eyes forward, ignoring the camera flashes and shouted questions from reporters cordoned behind barricades. Noah had wanted them to go in through a different entrance, to avoid the press and the crowds outside the courthouse, but Jennifer refused. She was tired of hiding. She had done nothing wrong, had spent far too long hidden away, and it stopped today.

“Eyes scanning everything, brother,” Caleb murmured, his Tennessee drawl more pronounced under stress. Though younger than Noah, Caleb matched him in height and vigilance, his hand resting near the concealed weapon under his jacket.

Noah’s hand pressed firmly against Jennifer’s lower back as they climbed the stairs. “Almost there,” he reassured her.

The courthouse loomed before them, its classical columns gleaming in the morning sunlight. Jennifer fought the urge to look over her shoulder, the sensation of being watched prickling her skin.

Inside, they navigated through the security checkpoints. Jennifer removed her blazer for inspection, revealing the sleeveless silk blouse beneath. As she stepped through the metal detector, she felt exposed, vulnerable. The crowded atrium with its high ceilings and multiple entrances made Noah visibly uneasy.

“Keep moving,” he instructed, his voice low, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back after they cleared security. “Don’t look around.” He hated that both he and Caleb had to turn in their guns with security before they could enter the building. It meant being extra vigilant, but he’d do whatever it took to keep Jennifer safe.

A guard directed them to the third floor, courtroom three seventeen, where the Amir trial would take place. They were met by Assistant District Attorney Martin Delacroix, a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetually worried expression.

“Ms. Baptiste, Mr. Temple” he greeted them, glancing at Caleb before leading them down a marble corridor. “We’ve set up in a conference room down this hall.”

Noah’s grip on Jennifer’s elbow tightened imperceptibly. “Has anyone else been briefed on that location?”

“Only those who need to know,” Delacroix assured him, but Noah exchanged a skeptical glance with Caleb. Inside the conference room, Delacroix spread documents across the table while Jennifer took a seat, smoothing her pencil skirt nervously.

“I reviewed your notes from our call last night,” Delacroix began. “Your testimony is crucial, Ms. Baptiste. Without your eyewitness account of the conversation between Sayifa and Rashid concerning the abduction of—”

“They weren’t just going to abduct Chloe and take her back to Dubai. How many times must I tell you, they were also planning to murder Chloe’s mother, Salem Hudson?” Jennifer interrupted. Why did everybody seem to skip over that point, like it wasn’t important? Sayifa despised Salem, blamed her for leading her precious son astray, as she always insisted. As far as she was concerned, Salem was an infidel and needed to be destroyed.

“Yes,” Delacroix nodded. “Though Judge Marchand has excluded some of that evidence on technical grounds.”

Noah, who had been studying the courthouse floor plan on his phone, looked up sharply. “What wasn’t excluded?”

Delacroix’s hesitation was brief but noticeable. “Enough to make our case, with Ms. Baptiste’s testimony.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

The attorney cleared his throat. “The defense filed a motion this morning claiming diplomatic immunity for both defendants.”

“What?” Jennifer’s voice cracked.

“They’re claiming a recent appointment from their home country,” Delacroix explained. “The documents appeared authentic, but we’re challenging their validity.”

Noah cursed under his breath. “This is a delaying tactic.”

“It’s more than that,” Caleb interjected. “It’s a contingency plan. They knew we’d get Jennifer here safely.”

Delacroix closed his briefcase with a snap. “The judge has agreed to hear arguments on the immunity claim before proceeding. Additionally, the defense will likely request a continuance.”

“You mean I might not even testify today?” Jennifer felt a wave of nausea. Every day they delayed was another day Skinner had to find her.

“I’ll fight it,” Delacroix promised, “but you should be prepared for all possibilities.”

Noah moved to the window, checking the street below. “Where will Jennifer be during these preliminary matters?”

“We’ve arranged a secure witness room adjacent to the courtroom,” Delacroix said. “Limited access, one entrance.”

“I want to see it,” Noah stated, not asking. With a nod, Delacroix led them to the place where they’d wait. The witness room was small but adequate; a desk, sofa, and private bathroom. Noah inspected every corner, checking the single window that overlooked an interior courtyard.

“You stay with Jennifer. I’ll go into the courtroom. Nobody is going to recognize me, but they might know your ugly mug.” Caleb grinned at Noah, and Jennifer bit back a chuckle at Caleb’s cheeky grin. “I’ll come back with updates every thirty minutes.”

Caleb nodded. “Uncle Gator’s outside with two of Carpenter Security’s most trusted men. If anything feels off—”

“We abort,” Noah finished. “Get Jennifer out through the service exit we mapped.”

With a nod, Caleb walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. Once alone, Noah watched Jennifer pace the small room, her heels clicking rhythmically against the tile floor.

“Second thoughts?” he asked quietly.

Jennifer stopped, turning to face him. “No. I’m seeing this through. Those people destroyed lives, Noah. They threatened my mother. She’s still hiding, because the Amirs tried to use her to get to me. They could have killed your family. If I back out now, they win.”

“I know,” he whispered softly, his hands gently grasping her shoulders and looking deeply into her eyes. “And I promise you, they’ll pay for it.”

Jennifer leaned against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. This close he could detect the faint scent of lavender. “These past days with you…” she began hesitantly.

Noah’s hand brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I know this isn’t the right time or place,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “but when this is over—”

The door opened abruptly, and Caleb stepped in. “They’re starting,” he announced, his face grim. “Both Amirs have been brought in with their legal team.”

Noah’s phone vibrated. He’d had to put it on silent upon entering the courtroom. He glanced at the screen, frowning. “Text from Uncle Gator. He’s spotted two unfamiliar men entering the east entrance.”

“Did security stop them?”

“They had credentials,” Noah replied, already moving toward the door. “Federal marshals.”

Caleb swore softly. “There aren’t any marshals on our security detail. Carpenter would have said something if he’d brought in feds.”

“Exactly.” Noah’s voice was tight. “Something’s wrong. I’m going to—”

The sound of shouting erupted from the courtroom, just on the other side of the closed door, followed by a woman’s scream. Caleb yanked open the door, hand reaching for his weapon, cussing a blue streak when he realized it wasn’t there, security had it locked away.

A single gunshot echoed through the hallway.

“Back inside!” Noah ordered, pushing Jennifer behind him. “Caleb, what do you see?”

Caleb positioned himself at the threshold, keeping the door barely open, just enough to see inside the chaotic courtroom. “Armed men entering the courtroom. At least five that I can see. They’re wearing tactical gear.”

Jennifer’s heart hammered in her chest as Noah wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Through the open doorway, they heard a commanding voice ring out over the panicked cries: “Nobody moves! Everyone, stay in your seats!”

The judge’s gavel pounded frantically. “Order! Order in this court!”

Another shot was fired, silencing the room.

“This courtroom is now under our control.” Jennifer easily recognized the voice as Jakob Skinner. “We have disabled communication with the outside and secured all exits.”

Jennifer felt her knees weaken as she heard Sayifa Amir’s accented voice: “What is the meaning of this? Release me at once!”

Skinner’s laugh was chilling. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Amir, my employers have invested too much in your operation to see it dismantled. My men and I are here to ensure your continued freedom.”

“The police will have this building surrounded in minutes,” came the judge’s voice, surprisingly steady.

“Perhaps,” Skinner replied. “But by then, we’ll have what we came for. Bring Ms. Baptiste to me, and ensure the Amirs walk free, or I start executing hostages.”

Noah’s eyes met Jennifer’s, raw determination replacing the tenderness that had been there moments before. “That’s not happening,” he promised in a whisper, reaching for his phone. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Jennifer stared at the doorway, toward the courtroom beyond where chaos had erupted mere moments ago, knowing that the next moments would determine whether justice would be served—or the powerful reach of the Amirs would claim more victims.

The muffled sound of screams penetrated the thick oak door, followed by what Noah recognized instantly as gunfire. Jennifer’s eyes widened in terror as she stared at him across the small witness preparation room.

“What’s happening out there?” she whispered, but the question died on her lips as Noah moved with practiced efficiency, placing a finger to his lips.

Caleb stood at the door, ear pressed against the tiny opening. His normally easygoing expression hardened into the face of the former special forces operative he’d once been. The Temple brothers shared a look that spoke volumes. She only wished she knew what they were about to do.

“Skinner,” Noah mouthed silently, and Caleb gave a curt nod.

Jennifer hugged herself, the cream-colored silk blouse she’d chosen so carefully for her testimony now seeming frivolous. “They’ve come for me. I need to turn myself over to them. I can’t have the blood of all those innocent people in the courtroom on my hands.”

Noah crossed to her in two strides, taking her trembling hands in his. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, his voice low and fierce. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

The chaos beyond the door grew louder—shouted commands, the sounds of furniture being overturned, terrified cries. Noah’s jaw clenched as he pictured the courtroom: the elderly court reporter who’d smiled kindly at Jennifer earlier, the fresh-faced bailiff who couldn’t be more than twenty-five, and Judge Harriman, who’d been fair but firm during the preliminary hearings.

And somewhere in that mass of chaotic confusion were Sayifa and Rashid Amir, the mother and son whose family’s machinations had devastated countless lives, including Jennifer’s mother’s. The testimony Jennifer was prepared to give today would have sealed their fate, connecting them to a kidnapping attempt that crossed oceans and spanned continents.

“I need to call for backup,” Noah said, already dialing his uncle’s number. Gator was here, leading the security detail outside the courtroom. The call never connected. Guess Skinner had been telling the truth when he said they’d disabled all communication with the outside.

“That’s not good,” Caleb said, watching his brother’s face darken.

Noah tried again with the same result. “Looks like we’re on our own. Hopefully Gator’s figured out something’s wrong and has a contingency plan in place.” A loud bang against their door made Jennifer jump. Noah instinctively pulled her behind him in a fluid motion.

“Baptiste!” a voice called through the door. “Jennifer Baptiste! We know you’re in there. Come out now and no one gets hurt.”

Noah breathed out a string of curses. Skinner, the same man who’d nearly captured Jennifer at the airport only days ago. The memory of that stormy night flashed through his mind: the panic at the tiny private airport, Jennifer’s bravery in her rush away from the madness of the battle between the mercenaries and his family, who’d provided enough of a distraction to buy Noah time to find Jennifer. Remembered the flood of love that filled him when he realized she’d escaped from Skinner’s grasp. Could still feel the heat of the bullet slamming into his side as he raced to intercept her. The wound still pained him, but he knew it would heal—eventually.

“What do we do?” Jennifer whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

Noah’s mind raced, playing out multiple scenarios. They were trapped. One door, one window overlooking a three-story drop to concrete below. The room had been chosen because it provided the best security for keeping Jennifer safe. He’d never considered Skinner would have the temerity to breech the actual courthouse. Guess the Amir family was paying him a lot more money than he’d figured.

No backup coming, at least not soon enough. Without being able to contact Gator, they were well and truly alone. And Skinner had hostages—lots of them.

“Temple!” Skinner called again. “I know you’re in there too. You can’t protect her forever. The Amirs are walking out of here today, and so is Ms. Baptiste—either under her own power or in a body bag. Your choice.”

Jennifer’s breath hitched, but her eyes hardened with resolve. “I won’t let them take me. They’ll never stop. They’ll try to take Chloe again. She’s Sayifa’s final tie to her son, Tarik, his flesh and blood. If they’re allowed to walk free, Chloe will end up in Sayifa’s hands, and I cannot—I will not—let that happen to Salem’s child. I nearly ruined her life once; I will not be a part of hurting her a second time.”

Something stirred in Noah’s chest—pride, admiration, and that dangerous feeling he’d been fighting since the first day he’d been assigned to protect her. The feeling that had only grown stronger during the time they’d spent in close quarters, learning each other’s habits, sharing quiet conversations late into the night.

Focus, Temple. This isn’t about your feelings.

“I have an idea,” Caleb said suddenly, his eyes on the ceiling. Noah followed his gaze to the acoustic tiles above. “The ventilation system connects this entire floor. I studied the building plans when we were stuck in those motels with nothing else to do.”

“Too risky,” Noah countered. “We don’t know if they’ve secured the rest of the floor.”

“You have a better idea?”

Noah’s phone vibrated in his pocket—a text. Guess they’d managed to restore communications. He glanced down, surprised to see it was from Gator’s number:

In position. HVAC room. Waiting on your signal. Can flood courtroom with knockout gas through vents. Need 15 seconds warning to mask up innocents.

Noah’s pulse quickened when he saw the message from his uncle. Just for a moment, he’d worried Skinner and his men had done something to him. “Uncle Gator’s alive. And he’s got a plan.”

“What is it?” Jennifer asked, hope lighting her features for the first time since the mercenaries overtook the courtroom.

Noah showed them the text. “But how do we warn the civilians without alerting Skinner and his men?”

Jennifer’s eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. “The fire alarm,” she said. “It’ll cause confusion, but people are trained to cover their faces during a fire—instinct to avoid smoke inhalation.”

“Smart,” Caleb nodded appreciatively. “But how do we trigger it without leaving this room?”

Jennifer reached into her handbag, pulling out a small aerosol can. “Hairspray,” she explained, noticing their confused expressions. “If I spray this directly into that smoke detector for long enough…”

Noah’s eyes met hers, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You’re brilliant.”

Heat crept rushed into her face, and she knew color suffused her cheeks at his compliment. “I have my moments.”

“We need to be ready to move the moment the gas takes effect,” Noah said, his tactical mind already planning their exit. “Caleb, you take Jennifer, get her out of the building. Take her to Uncle Gator. I’ll secure the Amirs—they’re not escaping justice today.”

“No,” Jennifer said firmly, surprising them both. “We stay together. I didn’t come this far to run away at the finish line.”

“Jennifer—” Noah began, but she cut him off.

“I’m staying, Noah. One way or another I must face the Amirs, whether it’s from the witness stand, or seeing them led back to their jail cells. I will not run away again.”

Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Noah had spent his career following orders, making clear-cut decisions in life-or-death situations. But Jennifer Baptiste had a way of complicating everything—his mission, his judgment, but especially his heart.

“Fine,” he relented, “but you stay behind me at all times.”

She nodded, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. Taking a deep breath, she stood on tiptoe to reach the smoke detector, hairspray poised in her hand.

“Wait,” Noah said softly. He pulled her to him, one hand cupping her face. “In case this doesn’t work…”

He kissed her then, a brief but fierce meeting of lips that contained everything he hadn’t allowed himself to say over the past weeks. When he pulled away, Jennifer’s eyes were wide with surprise.

“About time,” Caleb muttered, unable to hide his smile.

Noah texted Gator: Fire alarm = signal. 15 seconds after alarm, deploy gas. We’re coming out fighting.

The response came immediately: Roger that. Don’t breathe deep, nephew.

Noah nodded to Jennifer. “Do it.”

She reached up and depressed the hairspray nozzle, directing a steady stream at the smoke detector. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then the shrill wail of the fire alarm split the air.

Outside, they heard Skinner cursing. “What the hell is that? Nobody move!”

“Now we wait for Gator and his team,” Noah whispered, drawing Jennifer close to his side, his weapon ready. “And then we take back that courtroom.”

She leaned into him, her body warm against his. “Together,” she said, and it sounded like a promise that extended far beyond this moment.

“Together,” he agreed, and began counting down the seconds to chaos.