Page 50 of Saving Jennifer
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 soundof 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.”