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“Should be released later today. I’ve notified the right people.”
“Great. Then let’s get down to the more urgent matter here. How did your brother kill you?” From his position a half step behind Morcos, Ross rolled his eyes.
“Car accident.”
“Common enough.” She stepped back, inviting them to join her in the den. “I know we don’t have much time, but it would give me a better understanding and possibly a way to find him if you could tell me about it.”
Abe nodded in agreement. “We were returning from a photo opportunity with a local school. The brakes went out. Amelia and I survived only because we were expecting it and had taken precautions.”
Used to seeing Abe in nothing less than thousand-dollar suits, Eva thought he’d managed the typical American business causal look perfectly with a polar fleece vest, cable knit sweater, and khaki trousers. “Amelia helped with the ruse?”
“Yes. We had further assistance from my driver. Bakr believed he had the man’s loyalty. The money Bakr paid funded a new playground at the children’s hospital.”
Eva chuckled. “He will hate that if he finds out. Amelia and your driver are both in a safe location?”
“Yes. My man on Bakr’s team here has told me where your soldier is being held. He is generally unharmed.”
“We’ve handled that much,” Ross said.
“You have already rescued him?” Abraham’s gray brows arched in surprise. “How interesting.”
“Eva,” Ross said with a pointed look, “Abe wants his life and his company back. How do we make that happen?”
Running the company, Abraham had access to information that would be helpful to American interests. “I’ve been working on it,” Eva replied. “Did you know your brother bid on a project in Fort Bragg, North Carolina? He presented his bid with a new company name, claiming it was a new division.”
“That is irrelevant,” Abe grumbled. “A ruse.”
Taken aback, she glanced to Ross, but her boss only shrugged. “Why?”
Abe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You are talented with languages and assessment. What do you know now that you missed years ago?”
“I—I’m not sure. I haven’t yet checked the file.”
“You do not want to.”
“It’s not a fond memory.”
“The official file will help you?”
Probably not. The evening was etched in her mind. “At the time, we believed the kidnapping was meant to encourage you to sell weapons to a new group.”
“Those weapons were already gone. The transaction completed another way,” Abe said. “Whether or not the weapons were there, something was out of place that night. You are an analyst, you know this. What was wrong with the rescue?”
“The chatter,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize it until later. Until the team was stuck,” she finished on a whisper. “We were too late.”
“We were all too late.” Abraham massaged his fist with his other hand. “My son left me a message. Bakr arranged my death when he learned I had it in my possession.”
Eva perked up. “What kind of message?”
With an apology to Ross, Abraham switched to Russian.
“I am afraid it is technology beyond my ability. Information I only recently learned about. The last time I saw my son, I interrupted a heated argument between him and Bakr.”
“What was the problem?”
Abraham shrugged, spread his palms out wide. “I heard my son arguing with his uncle over family and honor and heart.” He tapped his chest. “He accused Bakr of being a curse on the Morcos name. The next day he was kidnapped.”
Eva struggled to breathe, to listen, as the memories of that night rushed in and meshed with this new information. Tears welled in his eyes as he explained finding—and doubting—the note from his son that claimed Bakr was betraying the company. That his brother was diverting funds and hijacking a carefully staged weapons exchange.
