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He slowly descended, checking his position to the church, the trees, and the grass below. A tall, thin, bald vicar came rushing out of the church, waving his arms. Chad checked the lawn again. Not a headstone in sight. If this wasn’t a graveyard, nobody would stop him from using this space as his landing zone.
The vicar stormed toward the open lawn, but when he realized Chad was still descending, he scurried back to the church steps. Chad settled the bird and rushed faster than was recommended to shut down the rotors. His phone beeped a text.
Hope?
Please come for me. I need you and want you desperately. Bring the helicopter and come as soon as possible.
The text confused him. Would Roger have allowed her to keep her phone? The text didn’t sound like her.
Roger.
The man had taken Hope’s phone and texted Chad. He needed Chad to fly her to Augustine for whatever plan he had to hurt the royal family. It was just like when William had tried to force Malik to bomb his dad, Tristan, and the prime minister. This time, there weren’t a dozen mercenaries to contend with. Chad had to prevail against Roger and Ramone, but most importantly keep Hope and Faith out of harm’s way.
I’ll be there as soon as I can. As you know, the flight takes an hour.
Chad prayed Roger or Ramone wouldn’t hurt either of them before he could get there. He grabbed the extra pistol from under his seat and shoved it into the back of his waistband, wondering if he should’ve left the 9mm Beretta in his side holster with Hope earlier. He hadn’t thought of it in the rush to get out of there before Roger or Ramone saw him. She might be in more danger with an unfamiliar weapon, though, especially if Roger or Ramone discovered she was armed.
Leaping out of the helicopter, he was confronted with the angry vicar. The man was almost as tall as him but fifty pounds lighter. “This is sacred ground. You cannot land here.”
“Two innocent women and the entire royal family of Augustine will die if I don’t leave this bird here for a few minutes.” Okay, more than a few minutes. He glanced around and saw an electric golf cart behind the church’s shed. “And I need your golf cart.”
The vicar stared at him. “What will you do if I don’t give you the keys?”
“I’ll run to save these women, but your golf cart will save me time and energy, and I thought the church was in the business of saving lives.” Chad believed in Christlike love, not guilt trips, but he couldn’t stop himself from tacking that last bit on.
“Souls, not lives.” The guy actually cracked a smile. But he pulled the key out and placed it in Chad’s palm. “If you don’t bring it back, I keep the helicopter.”
“Done. Thank you.” He ran for the golf cart, inserted the key and pressed on the gas. It didn’t go nearly fast enough as it climbed out of the church yard, but faster than he could run. He lifted a hand to the vicar as he sped up to one of the many paved paths that ran through the village. The cart picked up speed on the more level path heading out of Wengen.
How would he rescue Hope and Faith without either of them getting hurt?
Chad urged the golf cart on and finally rounded the corner on the narrow jogging and biking path that approached their massive vacation home. He parked the golf cart in the woods across from their house, about a hundred yards away. He wanted to see the situation before he made a decision. Hope’s security alarms were on the doors and windows. He wouldn’t trigger anything scouting out the windows from her back patio. He hoped.
Dropping low when he hit the patio, he crouched and made it to the first massive windows on the rear side of the house. He plastered himself against the house, listening but not hearing anything. They might not be talking, or the exterior wall and windows were thick enough to not let much sound travel. He edged close enough that he could peek around the edge of the window.
Hope and Faith were in the kitchen, cooking. They looked all right. He was impressed with their bravery and liked that Hope had a knife in her hand. It wouldn’t stop a bullet, but it reassured him.
He imagined Hope had thought of cooking breakfast to get some distance from Ramone’s gun. She was smart and resilient. How could Chad keep her and Faith safe? That question was on constant repeat in his mind.
Ramone sat at the counter with his gun lazily pointed at the women. Chad could only see the back of his head, but he leaned forward and appeared to be studying Hope and Faith steadily. Especially Hope in only a white tank top and short blue running tights. Chad’s stomach rolled thinking of Hope and Faith in the same room as him and his father.
Where was his father?
Chad kept searching and finally saw Roger across the great room, pacing next to the two-story fireplace and that section of floor-to-ceiling windows. The man could easily glimpse Chad if he looked at the right angle. Chad eased back against the exterior wall and away from the glass.
How to proceed? He could call the local police, but he didn’t know this small department’s level of training, and he refused to follow anybody’s protocols for a hostage situation. He would follow the Holy Spirit and his training from General Ray, the very best training in the world in his mind.
One bonus was Ramone’s back was to him. If he could somehow sneak to the patio doors without being seen by Roger through all these huge windows, type in the code, fling open the doors, and shoot Ramone, he should be able to turn Roger’s attention on him and not the women.
Worst-case scenario, Roger got a shot off and killed him. More likely, Chad would kill Ramone and then turn and shoot Roger before the guy even pulled a gun. He didn’t have a gun showing currently. Chad had elite training and was a crack shot. Still, he had to think through the dangers and try to rule out any possibility of harm coming to Hope and Faith.
Hope was smart enough. She would grab Ramone’s gun after Chad killed him and then she could shoot Roger, if Roger somehow killed Chad.
His brain spun. Would she pull the trigger? It wasn’t easy to shoot a person, especially if you hadn’t been trained well.
If Roger wounded Chad, he’d have no issue finishing the guy. If Roger killed Chad and Ramone fell backwards off the barstool after he was shot, Hope would have to run around the bar to get the gun. Roger might have the advantage over her, and she’d be defenseless with Chad dead.
Shoot.
