‘I will go in, see what seats are free,’ Tawanda suggested, moving ahead of them.
Nathan nodded at her. ‘Thanks, Tawanda.’
*
She looked so young and fragile, all dressed in black like the first time they’d met, yet so different. It wasn’t a designer outfit. It was a knee-length cotton and lace dress, and instead of high-heels, she wore black pumps.
‘Listen, now probably isn’t the best time, but… what you said earlier about…’ he began.
He didn’t really know what he was going to say, but he felt he had to say something. He didn’t want her to think what they’d done together hadn’t meant anything. He really needed to word it right.
‘It doesn’t matter. I was being emotional. And you were being practical and sensible. And you were—’
‘Wrong.’ He took a breath and watched her look up at him. Those soulful eyes, tear-filled and sore from crying, met his, and he just wanted to pull her into him, keep her close.
‘Excuse me,’ a tall, olive-skinned man in a black suit said. ‘Here is an Order of Service. Would you like to follow me this way? You have seats reserved.’
The man passed a pamphlet to Autumn then one to Nathan and headed off down the hall to the left of the main door.
The moment was lost, but what concerned Nathan more was the accent of the usher. The man beckoned them forward, and Autumn stepped toward him.
Nathan caught her arm and drew her back. His heart thumped in his chest as he looked at her. He swallowed and tried to compose himself.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked her.
‘As I’ll ever be.’
‘You’re not going to make the service, Autumn. This is it… he is it,’ Nathan whispered, indicating the man waiting for them to follow his lead.
‘As-Wana,’ Autumn mouthed almost silently.
He gripped her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’m going to make them take me, too,’ he assured her.
‘This way, Miss Raine,’ the usher called.
‘But what if…’ Autumn’s voice was weak.
‘I’m going to make them take me, too,’ Nathan repeated.
*
Her legs were shaking, but she tried not to show any sign that she knew what was about to happen. Besides, Nathan didn’t really know. It wasn’t as if he knew the man. He could be wrong. Just because the man looked Asian didn’t mean he was a terrorist. You couldn’t make a judgment about a person like that. In fact, she was pretty sure you could be fined heavily for making a judgment like that.
And the man was smiling, now, and not in a particularly creepy way. Did terrorists only smile in a creepy way? The only pictures she had seen on television had terrorists snarling as they carried RPGs. She only knew that abbreviation because she’d watched The Hurt Locker.
The man opened a door to a room on their left. ‘This way, Miss Raine,’ he said.
‘Is this right?’ Autumn asked. ‘I thought everyone was going in the other direction.’
She didn’t know why she had questioned him. If Nathan was right, it was blatantly obvious why he was leading her away from the crowds, but if she didn’t know this, she would have asked the question. Wouldn’t she?
‘To avoid the crowds, for privacy for you,’ the man replied, unfazed.
Autumn stopped. She couldn’t do this. What was she thinking? She was about to step into a room, possibly filled with people with guns who might shoot her on sight. And what of Nathan? They wanted her, not him. If this didn’t go right, they would shoot him, here, now, no questions asked. She couldn’t let that happen. She loved her father, but…
‘This is a short cut to the best seats. We’ll be sitting near Blu’s wife. You can tell her everything you need to say,’ Nathan encouraged.
His eyes told her to move forward, to accept both their fates, but what was the right thing to do?
‘Blu would be so proud of you for being here, for doing this. You told me what sort of man he was. Don’t be afraid and… try to remember everything we talked about,’ Nathan told her.
She swallowed and leveled a smile at the usher. She walked forward and past him, to enter the room.
On that first step, the whack on the back of her head took her breath and consciousness away. Then everything went black.
Thirty-Three
They tied a sack around her head, and she screamed as strong fingers clenched her arms, wrenching them backwards, pinning them together. Her hands were bound behind her back. She was helpless. She felt brickwork against her shoulder blades, and she fell to the ground, banging her elbow on the stone floor.
‘Nathan!’ she screamed.
She couldn’t hear anything apart from shouting in a foreign tongue, one she didn’t recognize. How many people were in the room? Was that Nathan’s voice talking in that foreign language? What was he saying? What were any of them saying? Perhaps she should get up, there was no one holding her. How did you get up when your hands were tied behind your back?
‘Kill him!’
That was English, and she knew what it meant. Nausea flooded her gut.
‘No! No! One… two… three… four… five,’ Autumn yelled.
There was a gunshot, then another, followed by a third. Then something fell to the ground beside her. She felt the warmth of it on her leg. What was it? Was it a body? Was it Nathan? She didn’t dare breathe, she didn’t dare move, because if she did, she might move nearer to whatever was next to her. Man? Beast? Inanimate object? Her bodyguard?
*
Sweat trickled down his forehead as he held his hands behind the back of his head and attempted to save his own life. Right now, he wasn’t concerned for Autumn. For a while, until Rick O’Toole broke his cover, she was an asset to them. But he needed to be an asset, too, so when
