The heroine, an ordinary citizen, overhears a threat and is thrown into a life and death struggle with vengeful terroists intent to destroy the American way of life.
Excerpt
Attitude and choices. Those are the only things in life that you can control. That was what Jessica Saunders had believed. Now she wondered if you were propelled through life on a certain course and had no choice in the matter, but she still believed you could control your attitude, and hers needed an overhaul.
Before backing from her driveway, Jessica glanced at her house. As usual the sight caused her to reflect on a simpler, slower lifestyle. It had taken two years of hard work to renovate the hundred-year-old house, but it had been worth the effort. It was beautiful. Victorian homes lined her street, and as was true in most of Charleston, the yards were vibrant with blooms of azaleas.
During the drive to her job in Mt. Pleasant, Jess reminisced about a trip with her husband, Jay. Ex-husband, she reminded herself. They had spent the day on the beach building sandcastles with their five-year-old daughter, Andie. She missed those carefree times, times before Jay traveled weekly and worked seventy-to eighty-hour weeks.
Now, Jess was the one who worked long hours. Mainly to avoid the emptiness of the house since Andie had moved away to college. Even though she enjoyed the challenge of her job and the people at the ad agency, the long hours had taken a toll. She needed a vacation. She stopped to purchase a travel magazine.
Inside the familiar Food Mart, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee drew her to the coffee bar. She ordered a tall latte. The magazine rack stood at the back of the store. As she browsed, a magazine cover featuring an island surrounded by the aqua waters of the Caribbean caught her eye. That would be a great place to relax, she thought. She placed her coffee on a nearby shelf and picked up the magazine.
From behind a slightly open door, she heard hushed, angry voices that sounded Middle Eastern. The conversation didn’t concern her until she heard the word “jihad.”
She froze.
The disturbing tone of the men’s voices alarmed her more than the word. Jess stepped backward and bumped into a shelf behind her. Something fell. When she took another step, one of the men spoke in broken English. She leaned toward the door.
“But I do not harbor hatred toward Americans,” he said in a low voice.
The other man roared in Arabic.
His outburst startled Jess. Her eyes widened as she looked around to see if anyone else had overheard the men. No one was nearby. Why were these men arguing about a holy war? Could the conversation be about an attack? A prickle ran up her back as she considered the implications.
Backing away, she focused on the office door. Soon, it flew open and a dark-skinned, muscular man in his late thirties stormed out and disappeared through the front door.
A moment later, a younger man emerged. Jess gasped. It was Binyamin, one of the clerks who worked at the store. He was pale as he walked to the front counter. Bin was a lanky, bearded young man with a dark complexion. His unruly, black, curly hair framed his face, which generally bore an infectious smile. Today there was no smile.
Bin had worked at the Food Mart for the past year. He was pleasant and helpful to customers, especially the regulars. Jess recalled their last conversation several weeks ago. Bin had talked about the courses he was taking at the College of Charleston. He was excited about his second semester and his first year in America.
As Jess thought back, she realized the last couple of times she had been here, Bin had avoided her. It was difficult to imagine Bin involved in anything as sinister as a terrorist plot.
Jess started toward the front door. She forgot about her coffee, all she wanted was to get out of there. With each step, she feared her knees might buckle.
“Ms. Saunders, do you want to purchase the magazine?”
The manager’s voice jolted her. She looked down at the forgotten magazine clutched to her chest.
She cleared her dry throat. “Of course.”
Leaning against the counter to steady herself, Jess fumbled through her purse for money. She handed the manager the cash and slowly looked over at Bin. Bin’s face looked strained and he avoided eye contact. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead.
Bin turned to his manager. “Mr. Newton, I need the rest of the day off.”
“I’m not sure I can spare you on such short notice.”
“I am sorry. I would not ask off if it were not a family emergency. I will make up the time next week.” Beads of perspiration multiplied across Bin’s forehead.
“You seem to be having a lot of emergencies lately. I’ll see if I can find someone. In the future, Bin, you need to give me more notice.” Mr. Newton tramped off toward the office.
While they talked, Jess pretended to search her purse for the car keys. She hoped Bin would say something, anything, that would dissolve her fears. But Bin’s demanding the day off only added to her suspicions.
As she walked outside to her car, her feet felt like lead. She slid into the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel. Had she just overheard someone plotting an attack against America, or was she being paranoid?
Although she hadn’t understood the majority of the conversation, their tone and the fact Bin said he didn’t harbor hatred for Americans made it sound threatening. Should I report this to someone? She would never forgive herself if someone suffered because she failed to notify anyone.
Afraid that the man Bin had argued with might be nearby, she decided to wait to call the authorities. As she drove through the parking lot, she cast a nervous side-glance at the parked vehicles.
After a few blocks, she pulled to the curb. Who should she contact? The FBI? Homeland Security? There was some new antiterrorist agency, but she couldn’t remember the name. She knew the FBI had a local office, but was unsure of the others. She took her cell phone from her purse and called information. Her hand shook so hard that the numbers she wrote were barely legible.
Jess held the phone to her chest and stared ahead. What should she tell them? She would simply tell them what she overheard and let them determine its importance. Jess took several deep breaths and then called.
A woman answered, “FBI Charleston, may I help you?”
Jess attempted to speak but nothing came out.
“Hello. May I help you?” the woman repeated.
Jess cleared her throat. “Yes . . . uh . . . my name is Jessica Saunders. I . . . uh . . . overheard a conversation that sounded like it could be about a threat.” Jess described what she had seen and heard.
“Ms. Saunders, please hold for an agent.”
A few moments later a male voice announced, “This is Agent Blake Conners. I hear you may have information regarding a threat.”
“I’m not certain if it’s an actual threat.”
Jess repeated what she overheard and gave him a description of the men at the Food Mart. The fact that Agent Conners listened so intently sent shivers through her. If he didn’t believe the conversation was about a real threat, why would he even take her call? Her pulse quickened.
“We need for you to come to Washington, D.C. so we can determine exactly what you witnessed and heard. A couple of agents will pick you up in an hour at your house,” Agent Conners said.
“I’m willing to do whatever is needed, but I can’t add anything to what I’ve already told you. Almost all of the conversation was in a language I don’t understand, so why do I need to go to D.C.?”
“I’m with the Terrorist Network Task Force based in Washington. I came to Charleston to help set up a field office. Most of my team isn’t here. It will help to have their expertise. You may be surprised at what valuable information you may have overheard. I can’t go into details over the phone, Ms. Saunders, but the fact that you don’t understand Arabic is not an issue. Agents Cummins and Taft will pick you up at nine to take you to the airport. You need to pack a few things. This may take a day or two. Now, what is the location of the Food Mart? We need to send someone there to obtain information about Bin. Do you know his full name?”
“He told me Bin was short for Binyamin, but I don’t remember his last name.”She gave him the address of the store, then began, “I live on the corner of Ashley Avenue”
“We have your address, Ms. Saunders. Tell your family you’re going on a business trip if that’s a possibility, and tell your boss that you have a personal matter to attend to. The less you tell anyone, the better. We’ll leave for Washington as soon as you arrive at the airport.”
He gave her his secure cell phone number. He told her to memorize the number and only call him from a land-based phone, unless it was an absolute emergency.
Jess’ entire body felt numb. A honking horn brought her back to the present. She glanced at the police officer in the squad car. He pointed to something along the curb. She looked over at the “No Parking” sign that she hadn’t noticed, then glanced back at the officer. He motioned her to pull in front of him.
As she crossed back over the Cooper River, the horror of what these men might have planned lay heavy on her mind. She tried to concentrate on what she needed to do before leaving. She needed to pack, but first she needed to call Andie.
The thought of Andie brought a slight smile to Jess’ face. Andrea had grown up in a neighborhood full of boys determined to keep her out of their group, but no matter what they did or said to deter her, Andie tagged along anyway. She used to pin her curly, auburn hair on top of her head and cover it with a baseball cap so she would blend in with the boys. Some days when she came home, there would be no clue that a beautiful little girl lurked underneath all the grime. The nickname “Andie” fit her perfectly.
For years, Andie planned to go to the University of Texas at Austin and major in interior design; it was the college that her parents had attended. Jess admired Andie’s independence, a trait her daughter had in abundance.
Jess’ palms sweated at the thought of lying to Andie. What could she tell her? Perhaps part of the truth would be best. It was almost seven in Texas. On Mondays Andie’s classes didn’t start until eight, so she should still be in her dorm room.
At a red light, Jess stared at her cell phone. Someone honked. When she looked up, the light was green. She drove forward and activated her phone by saying her daughter’s name.
“Hi, Mom. Did you forget about the time difference again?”
Jess forced a laugh. “No, babe, I wanted to catch you before you left for class.”
“What’s up?”
“A serious issue has come up at work and I have to go to D.C. today.”
“Mom, are you okay? Your voice is shaky.”
“Must be bad reception. I’ve been having problems with my cell phone lately.”
“You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m fine. I’ll call later and explain everything. I love you.”
“You better call me tonight. I’ll worry until I hear from you. By the way, I made an A on my physics exam last week.”
“That’s great. I miss you, sweetie.”
“I miss you too. Could you come to Austin this weekend or the next . . . maybe even talk Dad into coming with you? I realize that’s a big request.”
“I’ll let you know when I get back. I shouldn’t be gone more than two days.” Jess bit her lip.
“It sounds major. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Could you call your dad and let him know I’ll be out of town? He calls me every now and then. I’ve been having problems with my cell phone, and I wouldn’t want him to think something is wrong if he can’t reach me.”
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I don’t have time, and I don’t want to talk to him right now.”
“You never do.” Andie sighed. “I love you, bye.”
“I love you too. Be careful, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jess clicked off the phone and breathed a sigh of relief.
After parking in her driveway, Jess glanced down her street. Everything had appeared safe and serene earlier. But now a disturbing atmosphere hung in the breeze. Jess shuddered and rushed inside.
As she packed, Jess’ thoughts drifted to Jay. When Andie was young, Jay had spent hours reading and playing games with her. He had gone to all her sporting events, dance recitals, and helped her with school projects. Also during the early years of their marriage, they had gone camping, sailing, and enjoyed spending time together. Everything changed once Jay decided to climb the corporate ladder and become CEO. He went from a doting father and husband to almost a complete stranger.
After three years of Jay’s long hours and traveling, Jess quit her job. She hoped the free time would help their strained marriage. She even traveled with Jay. But to her disappointment, she either sat in the hotel room while Jay attended meetings or entertained his clients’ wives at dinner while the men discussed business. Even when they were alone, Jay continued to work on his next big business deal.
After being home for two years, she became dismayed over Jay’s growing distance and his lack of concern for their marriage, so she filed for a divorce.
One evening when he returned home late, she handed him the papers. “Since I’m already living alone, I decided to make it official.”
Jay studied the papers. “Maybe this is best,” he mumbled.
Jay threw some things into a suitcase and never looked back as he walked out into the night. Jess had hoped the fact that she had filed for divorce would shock him into concentrating on their marriage. But there had not been one word of protest from Jay. Devastated, she wept for hours. No matter how difficult the divorce had been for her, it had been harder on Andie. At first, Andie was angry at Jess, but over time they became close again.
After Andie left for college, Jess crammed her days with work, target practice, exercising, and kickboxing. All the exercise kept her in great physical shape, but that wasn’t what motivated her. Being active kept her too exhausted to be lonely. She filled any remainder of her time doing charity work.
After packing, Jess stared into her closet. It was difficult to focus on clothes as she tried to keep her emotions in check. Anger, fear, anxiety, you name it, they all surged through her at one time. She changed into a pair of black pants, a black-and-white, lightweight sweater, and a pair of black flats.
Jess began a mental check of things she still needed to do: the mail, the newspaper . . . suddenly she remembered her office. She was never late. They probably thought she had an accident.
Jess had gone to work for Stanley Marks right after she graduated college. She enjoyed her job, mainly because she liked working with Stan. He and his wife, Rosa, were like family.
As Jess dialed her office, she debated about what to tell Cindy, her assistant. Although she hated lying, she thought it was best, given the circumstances. She told Cindy an elderly neighbor had fallen on her steps. That since she lived alone, Jess planned to take her to the emergency room and stay home with her for a couple of days. With a sense of relief, Cindy bought the story.
Jess glanced at the clock on her nightstand. The agents would be there soon. She was ready to get this entire incident behind her. She grabbed her purse and suitcase.
As she walked through the den, she glanced out back. She froze in place when she saw Bin on the patio with a gun aimed at the back door. The sound of cracking wood filled the room and a hole appeared where the lock had been. She hadn’t heard the shot. That could only mean one thing. He had a silencer!
Overwhelmed by terror, Jess dropped her bags. As she raced toward the front door, Jess’ right foot caught the edge of her suitcase and threw her off balance. Bin grabbed her from behind and clasped his hand over Jess’ mouth.
At that moment the phone rang.
Copyright 2008 Barbara Blackburn. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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