He forces me to sit down as I begin to shake, the terror of what I just witnessed combining with memories from a few months earlier, when I had been taken by Al-Quadar in the Philippines. For a few horrifying moments, the past and the present merge, and I’m again in that clinic, hearing those gunshots and feeling fear so intense that my mind can’t register it. Only now it’s not Beth and I who are in danger.
It’s Julian.
They came for him—and I know exactly who they are.
“It’s Al-Quadar.” My voice is hoarse as I get up, ignoring the tremors that continue to rack my body. “Peter—it’s Al-Quadar.”
He nods in agreement, and I see that he’s already on his phone. “Da. Da, eto ya,” he says, and I realize that he’s speaking Russian. “V gospitale problema. Da, seychas-zhe.” Lowering the phone, he tells me, “I just notified the Uzbekistani police of the events in the hospital. They’re on their way, as are more soldiers. They’ll be there within minutes.”
“It will be too late.” I don’t know where my certainty comes from, but I can feel it deep within my bones. “They have him, Peter. If he’s not dead yet, he will be very shortly.”
He looks at me, and I can see that he knows it too—that he knows how hopeless the whole thing is. We’re dealing with one of the most dangerous terrorist organizations in the world, and they have the man who’s been hunting them down and decimating their ranks.
“We’re going to track them down, Nora,” Peter says quietly. “If they haven’t killed him yet, there’s a chance we may be able to retrieve him.”
“You don’t really believe that.” I can see it on his face. He’s just saying it to placate me. Majid’s people have been able to evade detection for months, and it’s only the lucky capture of that terrorist in Moscow that led to the discovery of their whereabouts. They will disappear again, hiding somewhere else now that they know their location in Tajikistan has been compromised.
They will disappear, and so will Julian.
Peter gives me an indecipherable look. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. The fact is that they want something from your husband: the explosive. They wanted it before, and I’m certain that they want it now. It would be very foolish of them to kill him right away.”
“You think they’re going to torture him first.” Bile rises in my throat as I remember Beth’s screams, the blood spreading everywhere as Majid systematically cut off bits and pieces of her body. “Oh my God, you think they’re going to torture him until he breaks and gives them this explosive.”
“Yes,” Peter says, his gray eyes steady on my face as Ana begins to sob quietly into Rosa’s shoulder. “I do. And that gives us time to find them.”
“Not enough time.” I stare at him, sick with terror. “Not nearly enough time. Peter, they’re going to torture him and kill him while we look for them.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” he says, pulling out his phone again. “I’m going to throw all of our resources at this. If Al-Quadar so much as blips on the radar someplace, we’ll know it.”
“But that could take weeks—even months!” My voice rises as hysteria grabs hold of me again. I can feel my grip on sanity slipping as the roller coaster of grief, joy, and terror I’ve been riding for the past couple of days plunges me into a bottomless pit of despair. It was only yesterday that I thought I’d lost Julian again, only to learn that he’s alive. And now, just when it seemed like the worst was over, fate has dealt us the cruelest blow of all.
The monsters who murdered Beth are going to take Julian from me too.
“It’s the only option we have, Nora.” Peter’s voice is soothing, like he’s talking to a fractious child. “There is no other way. Esguerra is tough. He may be able to hang on for a while, no matter what they do to him.”
I take a deep breath to regain control of myself. I can break down later, when I’m alone. “Nobody is tough enough to withstand nonstop torture.” My voice is almost even. “You know that.”
Peter inclines his head, conceding my point. From what I heard about his unique skills, he knows better than anyone how effective torture can be. As I look at him, an idea enters my head—an idea that I never would’ve entertained before.
“The terrorist they captured,” I say slowly, holding Peter’s gaze. “Where is he now?”
“He’s supposed to be remitted into our custody, but for now he’s still in Moscow.”
“Do you think he might know something?” My hands twist in the skirt of my dress as I stare at Julian’s torturer-in-chief. A part of me can’t believe I’m about to ask him to do this, but my voice is steady as I say, “Do you think you could make him talk?”
“Yes, I’m sure I could,” Peter says slowly, looking at me with something resembling respect. “I don’t know if he’ll know where they might go next, but it’s worth a shot. I will fly out to Moscow immediately and see what I can find out.”
“I’m coming with you.”
His reaction is immediate. “No, you’re not,” he says, frowning at me. “I’m under explicit orders to keep you safe here, Nora.”
“Your boss has just been captured and is about to be tortured and killed.” My voice is sharp and biting as I enunciate every word. “And you think my safety is a priority right now? Your orders no longer apply because they have Julian. They no longer need me for leverage over him.”