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It’s a new level of fucked up, but in this moment, I realize I do want a child with her. I want to tie her to me in every way possible, make her mine so completely she’d never be able to leave.
“There are several brands sold in the US,” Sara says. “Plan B, Next Choice, My Way, ella… I don’t know what’s available in Japan, but I’m sure there must be something. These pills work by stopping the release of the egg, preventing fertilization, or stopping the implantation in the uterus. So it’s not an abortion pill; it’s just emergency contraception. I’m sure if you go into any pharmacy in Japan and explain what you need, they’ll give it to you.”
She’s looking at me with such desperate hope that I can’t bring myself to say no.
“All right,” I say, doing my best to hide my reluctance. “Let me see if I can reach Anton before they start heading back. Maybe they’ll be able to pick it up on the way.”
Sara’s entire countenance brightens. “Yes, please. The sooner it’s taken, the more effective it is. Within the first twenty-four hours is best, and if I take it tonight, we’ll still be within the seventy-two-hour window for the last time.”
“Got it,” I say and head into the bathroom to wash up. “I will call them as soon as I get downstairs.”
I keep my promise to call Anton, procrastinating only by the amount of time it takes me to answer an urgent email from our hackers. They located a Henderson family friend who recently booked tickets to Croatia and are asking for a payment to pursue the lead further. I transfer another five hundred grand into an agreed-upon account in the Cayman Islands, and then I contact Anton through our secure satellite phone.
To my relief, they’re only minutes away from our mountain retreat. “What do you need?” Anton asks, his words barely discernible over the roar of the helicopter in the background. “The jet lag is kicking my ass, but if it’s something urgent, we can turn around and go get it.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, suppressing an unwelcome spurt of guilt. “By the time you fly back there, all the pharmacies will be closed anyway.” Or at least that’s what I’m going to tell Sara and hope it doesn’t occur to her that something as simple as a locked door is no obstacle for my team.
We can obtain anything at any time, locks and legalities be damned.
“All right.” Anton must indeed be tired, because he doesn’t react to my strange statement. “We’ll see you in ten.”
He hangs up, and I go upstairs to tell Sara the bad news.
I will get her that pill, but not today.
Tomorrow will be soon enough.
13
Peter
Sara takes the news well, probably because I inform her at the same time that we have what we need to make the secure call to her parents. While Ilya and Yan set it up, I instruct Sara on what to say.
“Not a word about our location or how many of us there are,” I tell her as I lead her downstairs. “Nothing about how long it took us to get here or how we got here. And if you try to hint about sushi or mountains or helicopters or to plant any other clue, I’ll know, and this will be the last time you contact your family. Understand?”
Sara’s face is pale, but she nods. “What can I say, then?”
“You can tell your parents you’re with me—the Feds know that much. You can say you’re happy and in love, and that they shouldn’t worry about you. Keep it brief; the idea is not to answer their questions but to reassure them that you’re alive and well. The less you say, the better for all concerned.”
“Okay.” Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she takes a breath and squares her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
The call goes through two dozen relays, bouncing off satellites and cell towers all over the world before showing up as a blocked number on Sara’s mother’s cell. I know for a fact that all phones connected to Sara’s parents are tapped by the FBI, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no way they’ll be able to trace the call. The main danger is Sara saying something she shouldn’t, but hopefully, she’s smart enough to avoid that.
I don’t bluff when I make threats.
Lorna Weisman, Sara’s mother, is quick to pick up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice is tense as it comes through the speaker.
“Hi, Mom,” Sara says. She’s sitting on the couch next to me, the phone on loudspeaker on her lap so I can hear the conversation. “It’s me, Sara.”
“Sara! Oh, thank God! Where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on? The FBI came and—”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Sara’s tone is calm and soothing, despite the overly bright glitter in her eyes. “Please don’t worry. I’m with Peter, and all is well. I know things are probably confusing, but I’m well and everything with us is great. I’ll tell you more when I get home, but for now, I just wanted to call because I figured you must be worried.”
