The Phoenix Encounter (20 page)

Blood zinging through his veins like a spray of bullets, Robert broke into a dead run, a hundred scenarios flashing through his mind. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Lily and Jack were in the safe room in the basement, but he knew DeBruzkya was a master at getting information, at making people talk.

Ice pick jabs of pain flared in his thigh as he ran, but the fear clenching his chest dwarfed it. He sprinted down the street with the speed of an Olympian athlete, then took the crumbling steps of the hospital three at a time to the top. He didn't think before bursting through the doors. He knew better than to enter a building without knowing who was inside. But it was emotion driving him now, not logic.

Pulling the revolver from the waistband of his jeans, he entered the lobby, found it eerily quiet. He heard someone crying, then spotted a young nurse sitting on the floor behind the desk. Next to her a man in a white lab coat lay on his back in a pool of blood.

Robert sprinted over to her, speaking in Rebelian. “What happened?”

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “The soldiers came. Several people were shot. Please, help me. He's been shot.”

“I'm a doctor.” Robert knelt, but knew immediately there was nothing he could do for this man. Setting his hand against the man's throat, he felt for a pulse. When none came, he sat back on his heels and shook his head. “I'm very sorry, but he's gone.”

Putting her face in her hands, the woman sobbed.

Robert put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, outrage and anger burning through him. “Are the soldiers gone?”

“They left about ten minutes ago.”

“How many soldiers?”

“I don't know. Fifteen or so. Maybe more.”

“Where's Dr. Orloff?”

“I don't know.”

“Did the soldiers take anyone with them?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “There was a woman and a child.”

Robert didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He jumped up, felt the world rock beneath his feet as his worst nightmare became a reality. For several long seconds he stood there, breathing hard, trying to decide what to do next.

DeBruzkya had Lily and Jack. The woman he loved and his innocent son were in the hands of a madman.

And suddenly Robert knew what he had to do. He knew it would be the most dangerous mission of his life. Only he was no longer acting as an ARIES agent, but a man who would do anything to save his family.

L
ily should have realized where DeBruzkya would take them. That like the spider he was, he would take them to his lair where he would have complete control and the freedom to do with them as he pleased. But her mind was so cluttered with emotion she wasn't thinking clearly. She could handle becoming a prisoner. But the thought of DeBruzkya hurting Jack was too much to bear. As the soldiers had marched them through the forest toward the Veisweimar Castle, she decided she would do anything—including giving up her own life—to keep him safe.

The castle was like something out of a medieval movie replete with a moat, gargoyles and a drawbridge. The place was huge and surrounded by high stone walls. It had been built during medieval times, then fell to ruin and was swallowed by the forest. During World War II, the Nazis had transformed it into a prison. After the war, it had once again fallen to ruin. Lily had never imagined DeBruzkya transforming the place into a modern-day fortress.

The soldier behind her snapped something in Rebelian
and prodded her between the shoulder blades with the muzzle of his gun. Lily stepped onto the drawbridge, shuddering at the sight of the black water below. Her arms ached from carrying Jack for so long. She was glad her son had been given a sedative; she didn't know how these hardened men would react to a crying baby. In the back of her mind, she wondered how much longer the drug would last.

The soldiers marched her into a large courtyard. Even though it was afternoon, it had grown dark. Black clouds roiled in the sky to the north, and she knew the storms would arrive soon. Before her, the tall doors of the castle yawned, like a monster with great jaws about to devour them.

“Walk!” the man behind her shouted.

Lily snapped a very American expletive at him. Several of the soldiers laughed, but the word earned her a hard shove.

She hadn't seen DeBruzkya since the scene in the hospital. Belatedly she realized a man of his stature would never march with his soldiers. He would travel by jeep. Chances were, he was already here.

She thought of Robert and closed her eyes against the jab of pain. She knew he would come for her. Knew he would search for her and Jack—or die trying. She'd told him about the Veisweimar Castle, so he would know where to look. If the soldiers found him, she knew DeBruzkya would have no mercy.

The thought tore her up inside. She loved him. He was kind and gentle and would be the perfect father for Jack. Yet Lily had let him go. She'd chosen the solitary life of an underground rebel leader. And for what? she asked herself.

But Lily knew the answer. She'd spent her entire life alone and unloved. Shuffled from one foster home to another. It had hurt knowing there wasn't a soul on this earth who'd loved her. But Lily had loved. She'd loved with the purity of heart of the child she'd been. She'd fallen in love
with her prospective parents and siblings. Their backyards with swing sets and trees and little black pups. Still, they'd let her go. She was too old. Too strong-willed. And so they'd deserted her, they'd walked away, filling her young heart with the agony of the unwanted.

That night in the pub, when she'd been badly injured and lying amid the debris, she'd felt that same pain. The pain of knowing someone she'd loved had deserted her.

Only he hadn't.

Lily closed her eyes against the pain that knowledge brought her. Regret squeezed her heart. She'd made so many mistakes, she couldn't begin to correct them. She wouldn't even know where to begin. God, she'd been such a fool.

“Stay here,” one of the men ordered her.

Except for the two soldiers who had been assigned to guard her, the men dispersed in the courtyard. The two men accompanied her into the grand foyer. Lily couldn't believe the opulence of the old castle. Flickering gas lamps mounted on the walls lighted the room. High ceilings lent the place a cavernous feel. The air was cool and slightly damp, but she could smell the crisp scent of eucalyptus in the air.

A young woman with crystal-blue eyes, clad in traditional Rebelian garb, approached them. She couldn't have been much over twenty years old. Lily stared at her, wondering what role she played and how she fit into DeBruzkya's game plan.

“General DeBruzkya would like her taken to the guest suite adjacent his,” she said in Rebelian, then glanced at Lily. “The child comes with me.”

“No.” Breaking free of the guard, Lily stepped back, clutching Jack to her chest. “No!”

“Please,” the young woman said softly. “It is General DeBruzkya's wish. I am only going to bathe him and allow you time to prepare for dinner.”

The words barely registered in Lily's mind. “He stays with me.”

The young woman looked over at the soldier. “I can assure you, Madame Scott, you and your son have nothing to fear from me.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder, then whispered in English. “You have much to fear from the general. Please, do as I say.”

Lily heard the words. She saw the sincerity in the young woman's eyes. But she couldn't bring herself to part with Jack. She would rather they cut off a piece of her flesh than take her child away. “Don't take him,” she heard herself say.

The young woman nodded to the soldier.

Lily knew what would happen next, and she dreaded it with every fiber of her heart. The man approached her and reached for Jack. Panic sprang through her like a wild animal released from its cage. Lily lurched, but the soldier snagged her arm. He jerked her around to face him. Simultaneously the second soldier moved forward and wrapped a strong arm around Jack.

Lily could have fought them, but she was terrified a struggle would hurt Jack. That it would frighten him. She cried out as her son was taken from her arms. “Don't take him!” she screamed in grief and fury.
“Give him back to me!”

Blinking back tears, the young woman rushed forward and gently took Jack from the soldier's arms. “I will take good care of him.”

Lily's control left her, replaced by a mother's instinct to protect her young. Twisting, she tried to lunge toward the woman, but the soldier holding her was faster and stronger. Screaming, she fought him, lashing out at the second soldier with her boots. A fleeting sense of satisfaction flashed through her when her boot connected with something solid. The soldier yowled and danced back.

“Give me my baby!” she screamed.

But the young woman hurried away from them and down
a long stone corridor. “Bring him back,” Lily whispered as her son and the young woman disappeared.

“Calm down!” the soldier snapped, giving her a hard shake.

Lily barely felt her head snap back. Despair pressed down on her like a giant, smothering hand. Her arms felt cold and empty without Jack. Feeling the tears build in her eyes, she looked at the soldier. “I want my baby back,” she said.

His eyes skittered away. And even though his inability to meet her gaze told her this young man was still human, that he could still feel the need for basic human kindness and dignity, she also knew it wasn't enough to save her.

“Take her to the guest suite adjacent General DeBruzkya's,” said the second man.

Taking her arm firmly in his, the young man guided her in the opposite direction from where the woman had taken Jack. Lily looked over her shoulder, hoping to get one last look at her son. But he was gone. She felt Jack's departure like a saber slashing through her heart. The pain was so intense and so deep she could barely draw a breath. She felt physically ill as the soldier guided her up massive stone steps. Her despair darkened. She knew it was fruitless for her to cry, knew it wouldn't make any difference to her captors, but she couldn't hold back the tears. A sob wrenched from her by the time they'd reached the first landing. Lily cried openly, stumbling on occasion, feeling as if her heart were being torn from her body. Of all the things that could have been done to her, having Jack taken away was the worst.

She thought of Robert, and fresh pain slashed her. She felt it well like blood on a wound, spill over and burn a path down her heart. She lost her sense of direction as they walked down a wide, dark hall and turned onto yet another winding staircase.

“He won't hurt you,” the young soldier whispered as he
guided her toward the top landing. “He won't hurt your son.”

Lily looked at him through her tears. “Let us go,” she said. “Please. I'll die without my son.”

The soldier looked away. “I can't do that.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Your suite.”

“You mean my cell?”

“Call it what you like.”

At the top of the landing, Lily looked around to get her bearings and shivered. The hall was made of stone, dank and dark and cold. A gaslight flickered high on the wall but cast very little light. The soldier guided her to a door. Keys jangled as he removed a round ring from his uniform pocket and opened the door.

“Step inside,” he said.

When Lily didn't move, he put his hands between her shoulder blades and shoved her. She stumbled into the room, but a quick spurt of anger spun her toward the door—just in time to see it close. She reached for the knob only to hear the lock click into place.

Feeling more helpless than she'd ever felt in her life, she turned and scanned the room. Surprise rippled through her when she realized she had, indeed, been locked in a suite. The room was befitting an expensive Paris hotel. Glossy mahogany furniture glimmered in the dim light. There was a sleigh bed with a high mattress. A chest of drawers. A bureau with a beveled mirror. A writing desk with a gas lamp beneath the single window—which was at least fifteen feet up.

To her right a door opened to a luxuriously furnished bathroom. She entered to find the small room endowed with brass fixtures and marble and stone. A sunken tub dominated the floor beneath a second window. The glassed-in shower was immense. Feeling trapped, furious that she'd been separated from Jack, Lily left the bathroom and strode into the bedroom. For a moment, she considered destroying
the room. Then she spied the note on the bed—right next to a dozen bloodred roses.

Feeling a little sick, she crossed to the bed and snatched up the single sheet of paper.
My darling Lillian, I fear you will be quite upset upon reading this letter. Please rest assured that your infant son is in good hands. My staff has been instructed to treat both of you with the utmost kindness and respect. I hope you find the suite to your liking. My goal is to make your stay here at Veisweimar as comfortable and pleasant as possible.

I would like to discuss some business with you this evening over dinner. Feel free to use the shower. There are several gowns and shoes stowed in the closet, which I had flown in from Milan. I hope the styles and sizes are to your liking. Dinner is served promptly at seven o'clock. If you're on time, I'll make sure you get the opportunity to spend some time with your son later.

Until then, Bruno.

Vaguely, Lily was aware of the paper shaking in her hands. Of her pulse raging like a white-water river down the side of a mountain. For the first time she realized just how delusional DeBruzkya was, how dangerous. He was living out some kind of sick fantasy.

And she was right in the center of that fantasy.

 

Robert looked at the global positioning system in his palm and tried not to notice that his hand was shaking. He'd given the miniature GPS radio to Lily so he could track her if they were separated. He hoped she still had it. Hoped the soldiers hadn't found it and taken it away from her. He thanked his lucky stars Hatch liked to arm his ARIES team with high-tech toys.

Robert had been running on adrenaline since leaving the hospital an hour earlier. He considered himself in pretty good physical condition, but after nearly two miles of running, his leg was beginning to cramp. And he knew if he
wanted to make it to the Veisweimar Castle before dark he would have to get his hands on some type of vehicle.

Around him rain fell in sheets, but Robert barely felt the chill or the wet cling of his clothes. He stepped onto the dirt road and looked both ways. He'd been on that particular road for nearly an hour, and all of two cars had gone by during that time. Not a good number considering he needed a car five minutes ago.

The passage of time taunted him as he pulled out his compass and headed north. Lily and Jack had been missing for nearly two hours. Every time he thought of them he had to fight a surge of panic. He could only imagine what she was going through. She might be a strong woman—tough even, and fast on her feet, to boot—but she was no match for a brutal man like DeBruzkya. Robert had seen what the dictator was capable of, and even a courageous woman like Lily didn't stand a chance against a sociopath. What the hell did DeBruzkya want with her? Had the dictator somehow found out Robert was an ARIES agent and intend to use her as leverage? Or were his intentions of a more personal, more twisted nature?

The possibilities made his heart pound with a helplessness he'd never known before. He thought about Jack and felt his gut twist into a knot. Urgency was like a fire raging through him, spreading and gaining momentum, threatening to burn him alive. He needed to move. To do something. To bring them home. He loved Lily more than life. He loved his child. His
son.
He refused to consider the possibility that DeBruzkya would hurt them. The thought was simply too much to bear.

Robert was so embroiled in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the rumble of an engine, the sound of tires sloshing through mud. He blinked rain from his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see dual headlights cutting through the rain and fog. Running on fear and desperation, he put his hands over his head and stepped into the beam of the headlights. The brakes squealed. Tires slid in thick
muck. But the vehicle—an old car of indistinguishable origin—slid to a stop.

A man in a raincoat rolled down the window. “Are you drunk, man?” he shouted. “What's seems to be the problem?”