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Authors: Jordan Dane
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did he have for them?
She understood that the diversion to the medical clinic had not been in his scheme, but it wouldn’t be long before the authorities would learn they’d escaped. They’d be better prepared for round two and hungry for revenge, if only to save face. And following the hostages would be easier since they were now on foot. Their captors must have figured this out. They hadpicked up the pace and weren’t bothering to keep to the shadows anymore.
Kate searched the horizon, looking for clues to determine where they were. She detected the smell of the ocean on the breeze, and it was getting stronger. They were near a beach. Did these men know where they were going, or were they merely putting distance between themselves and the Haitian police?
Cresting a small hill, she saw the faint lights of Tortuga Island in the distance, and the moon glistened on waves that lapped the shoreline of a small cove. She expected the armed men to scramble up the beach or down. Instead, they gathered the hostages together and forced them to their knees. The children spotted Kate and ran for her. Tiny hands gripped her hard as they collapsed to the sand.
“We thought you were…” Joselyne sobbed, unable to finish.
“I’m fine. We’ll all be fine. We just have to stick together.” She held them and kissed their heads, ignoring the twinge of guilt she felt for telling them something she didn’t believe.
She wanted to believe these men had a backup plan—that their grand scheme wouldn’t end in death on this beach. The grotesque image of dead bodies on the sand—even the children—gripped her mind and wouldn’t go away. Her gut twisted, and she couldn’t breathe.
The masked men stood between her and the ocean. The undulating waves by moonlight normally soothed her. She focused on the water and imagined other nights when she’d taken a quiet walk on the beach.
Another time. Another place.
A living nightmare ago.
Dark silhouettes of faceless men surrounded her now, and they were armed with weapons that could kill them in seconds. The brutal men had grown edgier. They peered through the shadows, waiting for something.
She started a prayer and hoped she’d be allowed to finish. Shutting her eyes, she clutched the crying children tighter. There was no comforting them. They all knew something worse was about to happen—or it would end here on this beach.
They were in God’s hands now—as they had been from the start.
CHAPTER 6
Armed with the AK-47 he’d taken off a dead man, Kinkaid crouched low behind a stand of trees and got as close as he dared. He was positioned on a rise, careful to maintain the high ground and a good view of the scene below.
He watched the terrorists and thought about what he’d seen of their op. Relying mainly on AK-47s, the men assaulted the fund-raiser using low-tech weapons until they resorted to grenades to blow their way out of the clinic. They hadn’t employed the usual al-Qaeda tactics of suicide bombers or massive explosives to launch their attack. Yet with relatively few men, they’d been effective, and the op had been well orchestrated. That was what the Haitian police and the media would report.
But from what he was witnessing now, this terrorist cell was far more sophisticated than he’d first thought. One man carried a satellite phone and another had a handheld GPS unit and a laptop. That kind of communication meant they had handlers. They could be aligned with any number of splinter groups. No onehad seen this part of the operation except him. The combination of their simpler tactics and more sophisticated gear might mislead anyone analyzing the attack into underestimating them.
And all the Haitian police had were dated walkie-talkies, outclassed weaponry, and virtually no tactical support.
Kinkaid counted heads for the first time. Although he couldn’t be certain of what he saw through the darkness, he tallied six or seven armed men and fourteen hostages. One
She understood that the diversion to the medical clinic had not been in his scheme, but it wouldn’t be long before the authorities would learn they’d escaped. They’d be better prepared for round two and hungry for revenge, if only to save face. And following the hostages would be easier since they were now on foot. Their captors must have figured this out. They hadpicked up the pace and weren’t bothering to keep to the shadows anymore.
Kate searched the horizon, looking for clues to determine where they were. She detected the smell of the ocean on the breeze, and it was getting stronger. They were near a beach. Did these men know where they were going, or were they merely putting distance between themselves and the Haitian police?
Cresting a small hill, she saw the faint lights of Tortuga Island in the distance, and the moon glistened on waves that lapped the shoreline of a small cove. She expected the armed men to scramble up the beach or down. Instead, they gathered the hostages together and forced them to their knees. The children spotted Kate and ran for her. Tiny hands gripped her hard as they collapsed to the sand.
“We thought you were…” Joselyne sobbed, unable to finish.
“I’m fine. We’ll all be fine. We just have to stick together.” She held them and kissed their heads, ignoring the twinge of guilt she felt for telling them something she didn’t believe.
She wanted to believe these men had a backup plan—that their grand scheme wouldn’t end in death on this beach. The grotesque image of dead bodies on the sand—even the children—gripped her mind and wouldn’t go away. Her gut twisted, and she couldn’t breathe.
The masked men stood between her and the ocean. The undulating waves by moonlight normally soothed her. She focused on the water and imagined other nights when she’d taken a quiet walk on the beach.
Another time. Another place.
A living nightmare ago.
Dark silhouettes of faceless men surrounded her now, and they were armed with weapons that could kill them in seconds. The brutal men had grown edgier. They peered through the shadows, waiting for something.
She started a prayer and hoped she’d be allowed to finish. Shutting her eyes, she clutched the crying children tighter. There was no comforting them. They all knew something worse was about to happen—or it would end here on this beach.
They were in God’s hands now—as they had been from the start.
CHAPTER 6
Armed with the AK-47 he’d taken off a dead man, Kinkaid crouched low behind a stand of trees and got as close as he dared. He was positioned on a rise, careful to maintain the high ground and a good view of the scene below.
He watched the terrorists and thought about what he’d seen of their op. Relying mainly on AK-47s, the men assaulted the fund-raiser using low-tech weapons until they resorted to grenades to blow their way out of the clinic. They hadn’t employed the usual al-Qaeda tactics of suicide bombers or massive explosives to launch their attack. Yet with relatively few men, they’d been effective, and the op had been well orchestrated. That was what the Haitian police and the media would report.
But from what he was witnessing now, this terrorist cell was far more sophisticated than he’d first thought. One man carried a satellite phone and another had a handheld GPS unit and a laptop. That kind of communication meant they had handlers. They could be aligned with any number of splinter groups. No onehad seen this part of the operation except him. The combination of their simpler tactics and more sophisticated gear might mislead anyone analyzing the attack into underestimating them.
And all the Haitian police had were dated walkie-talkies, outclassed weaponry, and virtually no tactical support.
Kinkaid counted heads for the first time. Although he couldn’t be certain of what he saw through the darkness, he tallied six or seven armed men and fourteen hostages. One
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