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“Yes.” Levi bent, ripped a lower pocket open, and produced a small knife. Apparently they hadn’t found all of his weapons. “Sophie. Can you please go see how far of a drop the balcony is?”
She nodded and obeyed. She was relieved that they agreed that Malik wouldn’t, couldn’t kill those men. If only she could see a way for all of them to escape unscathed. At least they’d put the captain and lieutenant in her room and they had a knife. These were daring, resourceful men. Maybe there was more hope and heavenly intervention than she’d imagined.
Flinging open the French doors, she rushed into the crisp night air. It was late August, but this elevation was even higher than Augustine.
Hurrying to the edge of the balcony, she peered over and her stomach dropped. She’d noticed the home was built on the edge of the cliff. They were in the bedrooms that overlooked that vicious drop.
Levi and Mason walked out onto the balcony, Mason rubbing his wrists. Levi whistled and looked down, down, down at the lights of the valley far below.
“If it was just you and I,” he said to Mason, “we could maybe climb to one of the other balconies and then down to the patio.” He pointed around the side of the house where a huge patio on the lower level jutted out over the cliff with a hot tub and patio furniture decorating it.
“Not with a little one and the Pedersons,” Mason said somberly.
Sophie’s heart raced hard and fast. They had no phones, no way to call for help. What could they possibly do if they couldn’t escape before the bombs exploded and they all died? “We can’t let William kill us.”
“Of course not.” Mason’s blue eyes filled with determination. “We’re just in for a little more work than originally anticipated.” He grinned at his superior.
These were brave men, but Sophie didn’t see a solution. William’s men would wire the house and when Malik returned … they’d all die. If Malik didn’t return or came late … they’d all die. If Malik didn’t kill his father, Prince Tristan, and the prime minster … they’d all die.
She hugged herself. She wanted to hold Sunny and be held by Malik.
The men started discussing ideas. None of them sounded plausible. After a few minutes, even Lieutenant Mason didn’t sound very optimistic.
Sophie walked back into the room, kneeled next to the bed, and prayed.
Chapter Ten
Chad expertly landed the helicopter on the pad next to the castle. Nobody had spoken during the flight. Malik held on to the bomb bag, ignored the mercenaries seated on either side of him, discounted crazy plan after crazy plan that ran through his head, and prayed like his life depended on it. His might not, but his family and Sophie’s family’s lives did.
He was supposed to make the right choice. To save the day. Him. He was the youngest prince. Besides some women he’d protected and championed, nobody really looked to him to save the day. Right now, he felt far from a hero and terrified that William had been right. That he was the only prince who had accomplished nothing with his life.
Malik stumbled out of the helicopter and looked up at his family’s castle. There were lights on in his father’s office, just as William had said. He couldn’t do this. He had no idea how to protect everyone. If the bomb didn’t go off, William would kill Sophie, Sunny, and everyone else at Wengen.
His stomach heaved in protest, and he vomited. A hand touched his shoulder, and he wiped his mouth and looked up at Chad.
“You’ve got this, friend. I’ll be waiting here for you.” Chad’s gaze was full of faith. In him?
Malik could only nod. He straightened and glanced at his watch. Eleven minutes and forty seconds.
Please, Heavenly Father. Loads of help. Not for me, but for my dad, T, and Henry. For Sophie, Sunny, her mum and dad, faithful Mason, Levi, and Chad.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and jogged to the lower entrance to the castle. A couple guards approached, realized it was him, and simply lifted a hand and turned the other direction. He wanted to beg them to stop him or at least come help him find a solution, but he wasn’t sure how anyone could help.
All was quiet as he typed in the code next to the garage entrance. It beeped and opened, and he hurried inside. The garage lights came on automatically and the luxury cars sparkled at him. He looked to where his dad’s Lamborghini Aventador was usually parked and saw only an empty spot. That irreplaceable and expensive car had been totaled—was that really only twelve hours ago?—to rescue his twin brother Derek’s girlfriend Ellery from the clutches of Treven Rindlesbacher.
Where was Derek? His twin could help him. Derek was four minutes older and smarter, a world-renowned and accomplished athlete and a man full of faith.
Seven minutes and counting. He had no time to find Derek or to think and plan. If he hadn’t come up with an incredible plan on the hour-long helicopter ride, seven minutes wouldn’t make a difference.
All he’d done since he lost Sophie six years ago was stack up a bunch of diplomas. If he needed to do a project or write a paper on the dilemma, he could do it in his sleep.
Wait. That gave him an idea.
Racing through the garage and to the closest set of stairs, he pumped up them to the third floor. He walked right into a set of guards. Heaven-sent, for sure. He didn’t know either of them personally, but he needed help and if he couldn’t trust the guards Ray deemed devoted enough to guard the interior of the castle, he was really in trouble.
“Prince Malik? Aren’t you with Major Prescott in Switzerland?”
“He just flew me back. Urgent business. I need to talk to my father.” He pointed at the taller guard. “Grab me paper and a pen.”
