Page 42 of Saving Jennifer

Jennifer nodded meekly, already assessing the tiny space for anything useful. There was nothing obvious, no window, no convenient tools left lying around. Just a metal paper towel dispenser bolted to the wall and a small mirror above the sink. Glancing toward the halfway ajar door, she made retching sounds, hoping the guard would fall for the ruse she was tossing her cookies.

The mirror.

Jennifer moved closer, pretending to check her reflection. What she was looking at was the mirror provided a view of the guard standing in the doorway, his attention divided between her and the runway outside.

In the distance, she heard Skinner shouting orders—something about a final check before departure. Good. Any delay worked in her favor.

Jennifer turned on the sink, splashing cold water on her face. As she reached for a paper towel, her fingers brushed against the dispenser’s metal edge. It felt loose. Keeping her movements casual, she explored it further and discovered that the bottom panel had partially detached from the wall—perhaps from age or poor maintenance. Good news for her that the cleaning crew wasn’t great at their job.

Working quickly, Jennifer wedged her fingers into the gap and pulled. The thin metal bent further, creating a sharp edge. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to cut through the zip ties binding her wrists.

“Time’s up,” the guard announced from the doorway.

“Just a second, I’m coming,” Jennifer replied, palming a paper towel and using it to conceal her other hand as she pried the piece of metal free from the dispenser. The sharp edge sliced into her finger, but she ignored the pain, slipping the makeshift tool up her sleeve as she turned toward the door.

The guard gripped her arm again, marching her back toward the plane. As they walked, Jennifer began working the metal shard against the zip tie, careful to keep her movements subtle. The plastic was thick, hard to saw through, but she finally felt it beginning to give.

Halfway to the aircraft, Skinner intercepted them, his expression tense. “Change of plans. We’re delaying departure.”

“Why?” the guard asked.

Skinner’s eyes darted to the tree line. “Perimeter sensor triggered on the north side. Could be an animal, could be something else. I’m not taking chances.”

Jennifer’s pulse quickened. North side—the direction Noah would likely approach from if he’d tracked them here. Hope surged within her.

“Take her to the office,” Skinner ordered. “And stay alert.”

The guard redirected Jennifer toward another small building at the edge of the airstrip. Unlike the hangar, this structure had windows—potential escape routes. As they approached, Jennifer continued working at her restraints, feeling the zip tie weakening with each subtle movement.

Inside, the office was sparse—a desk, two chairs, file cabinets, and a radio setup that appeared to be monitoring the airstrip’s perimeter sensors. The guard pushed Jennifer into a chair facing the desk, before positioning himself by the door.

“Don’t move,” he warned, raising his weapon for emphasis.

Jennifer nodded, feigning submission while continuing to work at her bonds beneath the desk where her hands weren’t visible. Outside, she could hear increased frenetic activity—more guards being positioned, orders being shouted. Something had spooked them.

Noah. It has to be.

The radio crackled to life. “Zone four breach. Moving to investigate.”

The guard by the door tensed, his attention now fixed on the radio. Jennifer seized the opportunity to saw more aggressively at the zip tie. The plastic gave way suddenly, freeing her hands. She kept them hidden under the desk, out of sight. Knew she didn’t want the guard to become suspicious. Stealth and waiting for the right moment were key.

A dull thud sounded outside, followed by a brief burst of gunfire. The guard swore, moving to the window to look out. In that instant, Jennifer lunged for the desk, grabbing a heavy glass paperweight sitting on a stack of papers. As the guard turned back, she swung with all her strength, catching him on the temple.

He staggered, but didn’t fall. Jennifer struck again, putting her full weight behind the blow. This time he crumpled, his weapon clattering to the floor. Jennifer didn’t hesitate, snatching up the gun and checking that it was loaded, before sliding it into the back of her waistband. She was grateful Noah had insisted she learn basic firearms handling, despite her initial reluctance. She’d have to thank him for the training, because it made thinking in a chaotic situation easier.

More gunfire erupted outside. Through the window, Jennifer could see figures moving around the aircraft, taking cover as shots came from the darkness beyond the runway lights. She needed to move now, while confusion reigned.

Keeping low, Jennifer made her way to the door. The gunfire intensified, concentrated on the far side of the airstrip where most of Skinner’s men appeared to be engaged. Her path to the forest on this side looked clear.

Taking a deep breath, Jennifer eased the door open and slipped outside, staying in the building’s shadow. Twenty yards of open ground separated her from the relative safety of the trees. She’d have to sprint and pray no one was watching this section of the perimeter.

“Going somewhere, Miss Baptiste?”

Jennifer froze at the sound of Skinner’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned, raising the gun she’d taken from the guard.

Skinner stood ten feet away, his own weapon trained on her. Blood trickled from a cut on his cheek, and his expression was murderous.

“Your boyfriend is causing quite the commotion,” he said conversationally. “But it won’t help you. Drop the gun.”