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Claire swept up a knife and stabbed a cutting board. “I should’ve never let him out of my sight. I should’ve let this all go and taken him to Colorado myself.”
“Hey, you did what you thought was right at the time. You thought you were keeping him safe.”
She covered her face with her hands. “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. He must be so scared.”
“I’m sure he’s okay right now.”
“Right now.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “I’ll kill Spencer myself if any harm comes to Ethan.”
“Wait a minute. This email has an attachment.” He double-clicked on the image file and swore. “Bingo—Correll is trying on a suicide vest.”
“What?” She tripped over her own feet getting back to him and the laptop. Hovering over his shoulder, she said, “Oh, my God. There he is. That has to be Ali-Watkins next to him, but who sent the picture and why? Who sent him the video of the meeting with Yousef?”
Mike wiped a bead of sweat from his sideburn. “Someone who wants to keep him in line. All of Correll’s meetings with these people have been recorded without his knowledge. By sending the videos and pictures, Tempest is making sure he keeps up his end of the bargain—access to the White House and the highest echelons of government.”
His cell phone buzzed, and Claire pounced on it. “It’s the Chadwicks.”
“Hold on.” Mike took the phone from here. “Hello?”
Mr. Chadwick’s harsh whisper came over the line. “Someone called us. The police aren’t here yet and don’t know about the communication, and Lori is resting in her room.”
“Good. You’re on speaker and Claire’s listening in. What do they want?”
“It was a man, disguised voice. He told me not to contact the police about the call and to give a message to Claire.”
Claire dragged in a shuddering breath. “What’s the message, Barry?”
“It’s a phone number, Claire. Just a phone number for you to call, and a picture.”
“A picture?” Mike’s heart thundered in his chest.
“It’s Ethan. He’s eating something from a bowl, soup or cereal, and he’s sitting in front of a TV with the date and time stamped on the screen. It was taken minutes before the call. Ethan’s okay. He’s okay right now, Claire.”
“He’ll be fine, Barry. I won’t let anything happen to our boy. We won’t lose him.”
Barry read off the telephone number while Mike entered it into a file on the computer. He told Barry to hold tight and then he ended the call.
“Are you ready?” He spun the computer around to Claire and pushed his phone toward her.
She licked her lips and tapped the number into the phone.
Spencer Correll answered on the first ring. “Yes?”
Claire growled deep in her throat. “Give me my son back, you son of a bitch.”
Correll tsked. “First things first, Claire. Return my emails to me.”
“You have to know it’s too late for that. I can’t unsee what I’ve already seen—you cavorting with terrorists and suicide vests.”
He sighed. “Well, I was afraid of that. Why Caliban felt he had to hold a threat over my head is beyond me, and it backfired. So, there’s more to my demands.”
“Spill. What do you want me to do in exchange for Ethan?”
“Forget about the Christmas Day plot.”
She snorted. “Again, too late. You must know about the heightened security surrounding the event.”
“I also know your so-called fiancé is a Prospero agent, and he’s going to be front and center during the security check. He needs to facilitate the attack by doing nothing.”
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose but kept his mouth shut.
“He’s going to do his job. You have to know that.”
“If the Prospero agent does his job and the Christmas Day plot doesn’t go off as planned or at least close to plan, Ethan dies.”
Mike’s gaze jumped to Claire’s pale face, her violet eyes blazing.
“You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t harm Ethan.”
Correll coughed. “I admit a fondness for the boy, but I have a greater fondness for power. After the successful completion of the Christmas Day plot, we’ll be in a position to take control. We’ve been setting up our coup for over a year now. We’re ready. And now that I’ve gotten rid of Caliban, I’m ready for my close-up.”
