Protecting the Princess Page 14

  “Let me get my leaf blower. I can have them cleared out in two minutes.”

  Stasi shook her head. “I’m not sure we have two minutes to spare. We can put the bags in the backseat.”

  Kirk obediently tucked their bags into the tiny backseat and hopped behind the wheel.

  “Be careful,” Lois called as they drove off with the windows down.

  “You, too! I love you!” Stasi waved until they turned the corner at the end of the driveway.

  Kirk quickly steered them toward I-20, praying they’d somehow make it to the airport undetected. The Tuesday-morning traffic into the city was already growing heavy, but fortunately the cars were still moving at a brisk clip.

  “Are we taking I-285 to the airport?” Stasi asked.

  “It’s the most obvious route.” Kirk had been mulling over the same question. “Do we want to take the most obvious route?”

  “I suppose that depends on whether we think they’ll catch up to us. They don’t know what we’re driving.”

  “We hope they don’t know what we’re driving,” Kirk corrected her. “We’re not even sure who we’re up against, or the scope of their knowledge or resources.”

  “Do you think they might know my mother gave Grampa this car?”

  “It’s not out of the realm of consideration.” He kept up with traffic, taking care to drive only as fast as the other cars around them. There was no point drawing extra attention. “If we don’t think we’re being followed, we can take I-285, but if I suspect they’re following us before then, I’ll take another route. Fortunately, I learned the ins and outs of Atlanta from visiting my grandparents. Hopefully our pursuers don’t have that advantage.”

  They drove in silence a short time longer, and Kirk kept his eyes on the road, ever alert for anything out of the ordinary. As promised, he took I-285, and they approached the airport without incident.

  “We’re almost there.” Stasi’s hands had been clenched tight in prayer for the whole drive. “We just might make it.”

  Kirk barely heard her words. He’d been watching a black sedan in his rearview mirror as it swerved quickly through traffic, rapidly gaining on them. He’d hoped it was an emergency vehicle, or some other innocent, unrelated speeding car. But as it came up closer, it ducked into their lane right behind them and slowed down to follow them.

  “Hold on!” Kirk instructed Stasi as he skipped from his airport-bound lane across to the outer lanes.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The I-75 exit.” They’d almost reached the spot, but two full lanes of traffic flowed between them.

  “You’ll never make it!”

  With another quick glance in his mirror, Kirk caught an opening and took it, making it across both lanes smoothly and hopping on the exit. As he merged into the traffic, he glanced back. “Did we lose them?”

  Blaring horns behind them indicated their pursuers had upset the other drivers.

  “They made it,” Stasi moaned. “It wasn’t pretty, but they made it. Now what?” Stasi asked as they tore down I-75 into the city, away from the airport. The morning commuter traffic nearly choked the road, slowing them down somewhat. Fortunately, it also put a few cars between them and their pursuers.

  Two more exits slid by them, and Kirk stayed in the outer lane as though preparing to exit. “If I could take Langford Parkway to the Lakewood Park district without them following me, they wouldn’t get another chance to exit for two miles. With the way the incoming traffic is choking up, that might buy us the time we need to circle back to the airport. But how am I going to exit without them seeing me?”

  Stasi thought quickly. “Get over another lane. Act like you’re not going to exit.”

  Kirk hesitated only a second before obeying. “The exit’s coming up,” he reminded her.

  “The car beside us has his blinker on. When he takes the exit, you swerve in after him. Then pop the trunk.”

  As quickly as Stasi explained what to do, Kirk did exactly that, sending an explosion of leaves scattering everywhere behind them just as they left the roadway behind.

  Cars honked, but the traffic had already been slowing to a crawl. Stasi braced herself, but she heard no crash of metal, only a few squealing brakes. Good. She didn’t want to cause an accident.

  “Can you see them?”

  Stasi looked back, but the open trunk and swirling leaves blocked her view. Then she spotted the black sedan moving past the exit, still in the wrong lane, but slowing down as the morning commuters jammed the road.

  “They’re up there. And they’re not going anywhere for a while.”

  “Good.” Kirk took the first opportunity to turn around, closed the trunk, and then hopped back on the Interstate, this time taking I-285 south toward the airport. “Let’s hope that was their only car.”

  They arrived at the airport, grabbed their bags and hurried to find a ticket kiosk. Stasi prayed the whole time that their pursuers would stay stuck in traffic for as long as it took them to board a plane to New York.

  Kirk had never been a fan of big cities. Though he’d spent most of his life in Lydia’s capital city of Sardis, the most populous town in the kingdom was home to only a few hundred thousand people. It was a far cry from the busiest airport in America, where the crowds seemed to swarm in droves. And since he knew their pursuers had to have guessed where they were headed, the Atlanta airport felt far from safe.

  He and the princess hurried inside along with the rest of the morning crowd, and Kirk struggled to get his bearings. True, he’d flown into the airport many times over the years. But he’d never felt at home there.

  Fortunately, the busiest airport in America had plenty of available seats for Tuesday-morning flights to New York City. After securing a flight, Stasi suggested they call the number she’d found in her mother’s journal, in hopes that whoever was on the other end would really be able to offer them sanctuary.

  Kirk kept a close eye on Stasi as he dialed the number with his cell phone. It rang five times before a machine picked up.

  “You have reached the private line of Nicolas Grenaldo, the president of Sanctuary International. I’m either on the phone or away from my desk. You’re welcome to leave me a message. If this is an emergency, or you are in need of assistance, please call any of the following numbers.”

  “I need to write,” Kirk whispered hastily to Stasi, motioning with his hand for pen and paper. She dug around in her bag and pulled out a pen, then stuck out her arm.

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I don’t have any paper. Just write on my hand.”

  Kirk cringed at the thought of defacing her royal person, but the mechanically captured voice was already relaying the numbers, and Stasi gave him one of her royal commanding looks that seemed to expect compliance. He jotted the numbers across the inside of her palm.

  “What are they?” she asked as he closed the call.

  “Phone numbers.” He explained what the voice mail greeting had told him. “Have you ever heard of Sanctuary International?”

  “It sounds distantly familiar. I don’t know if I’ve heard of it before, or if I recognize the word because of the notation in my mother’s journal. And anyway, what else have we got to go on? Should we call one of these numbers?”

  “I’ll call all of them if that’s what it takes.”

  He tried the first two numbers and reached only voice mail. “Whatever kind of organization this is, they don’t tend to be very responsive,” he grumbled, holding Stasi’s hand so he could see the next number. Her arm tensed.

  “What is it?”

  She motioned with her eyes, but kept her face schooled in a natural expression. “By the water fountain. He’s been watching us.”

  Kirk didn’t recogn
ize anything about the man until he reached up and tugged at something near his ear. Not only did Kirk quickly realize the man was using a device at his ear to communicate with someone else in the airport, but he recognized him as someone he’d seen before in uniform. “It’s another one of Bosch’s men. I think we should get going.”

  They gathered their bags with deliberate nonchalance and headed hand in hand through the airport.

  “Where are we going?” Stasi asked. “We don’t want to miss our flight, but we don’t want to lead them right to it, either.”

  Much as Kirk hated to admit it, he had to confess, “I don’t know. There are plenty of people here, maybe we can lose them. We should exchange some of our euros for American dollars.” He spoke under his breath as they weaved through the foot traffic, his eyes straight ahead, his grip firm on her hand.

  “I saw a sign for currency exchange. There tends to be extra security there.”

  Kirk swallowed. He was in over his head. “Let’s try to find the exchange, then. Maybe we’ll lose them on the way.”

  “This way.” Stasi tugged him along, and Kirk scoured the faces that swept past them. He hadn’t realized Viktor Bosch had such a long arm. It surprised him that the head of the royal guard could reach them halfway around the globe. Most likely he was working with someone else. Someone powerful, with international connections.

  It didn’t bode well for their odds of escaping.

  With relief, he spotted the sign for the currency exchange and took his place in line. Though he hadn’t dared look behind them while they were walking, now that they’d stopped, he pulled the princess close and looked past her head.

  “See anyone?” she asked.

  “Not yet.” Kirk let out an uneasy breath. “I’m going to keep dialing while we wait. We need to know what we’re getting into before we get to New York.”

  “Need my arm?” Stasi offered.

  “I’ll try the first number again.”

  Kirk dialed the number from memory, once again with no result. He sighed as Stasi reached the front of the line and exchanged a couple of large stacks of their euros for American dollars.

  As soon as Stasi had their money exchanged, she pulled him out of the way of the next person in line. “Now what?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not getting an answer.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We need to hurry if we’re going to catch our flight to New York. You can try calling again right before we board. If it’s someone we can trust, they can have a car waiting for us at the airport.”

  Kirk nodded. It was a good enough plan, except for the question neither one of them spoke aloud, though he was certain the princess was well aware of it. What would they do if it wasn’t someone they could trust?

  Constantly alert for the reappearance of Viktor’s man, Kirk paced by the windows, watching their plane taxi over to receive the passengers. They’d be boarding soon.

  Stasi gave him a studied look. They’d both been watching for the man while they’d bought a quick lunch, but so far had seen nothing. Where had the man gone? It didn’t seem likely that he’d given up. More likely, he’d gathered reinforcements.

  The flight attendant called to begin preboarding passengers who needed assistance. It was only a matter of time.

  “It’s now or never,” Stasi whispered to him.

  Kirk said a final silent prayer and dialed the first number again. He nearly jumped when a brusque voice answered on the first ring. The man jumped into the conversation without saying hello.

  “Have you found the princess?”

  Unsure who he was talking to or what they knew of the situation, Kirk took a second to answer. “She’s with me.”

  “Impossible! I’m surprised you’ve made it there. They didn’t give you much of a fight, then?”

  “We’ve had our hands full,” Kirk acknowledged, trying to think how the man on the other end of the line knew so much about the situation. “Is this the president of Sanctuary International?”

  “Of course it is. Who are you?”

  Kirk faltered. What should he say?

  “Say, who is this, anyway? Have you got the princess of Lydia?”

  Kirk’s heart hammered in his chest. Lord, give me wisdom. “I do.”

  “Where have you got her?”

  “We’re on our way to JFK Airport.”

  The man whistled long and low. “What’s it going to take for us to get her back?”

  Kirk could hear himself panting into the phone, and he felt distracted by what was happening around him. The flight attendant called for their seats. Stasi tugged him toward the line to board.

  He followed her lead, and the tugging in his heart prompted him on. “Send a car.” He quickly made arrangements to meet the vehicle at the New York airport. He was to call again for the car five minutes before they were ready to walk out of the airport. Their driver would come from the cell phone lot and pluck them up from the curb—assuming nothing interfered with the process.

  Kirk closed the phone, praying madly. He’d have to find the car the man had described, and then he’d have to decide whether he and the princess were going to get into the vehicle.

  “What did you learn?”

  “They’ll have a car waiting for us.” He shuffled forward as their line continued to move and prayed that they weren’t headed into a trap.

  Stasi took hold of Kirk’s arm as he settled into the seat beside her. She felt blessed that they’d been able to secure a flight, and more blessed still to have boarded without seeing any more of Viktor’s men.

  But that didn’t mean Viktor’s men hadn’t seen them. “Do you suppose Bosch will also have someone waiting for us at JFK?” Their flight was scheduled to last about two hours. Plenty of time for the men who were after her to assemble a welcome wagon.

  “They seem to stay one step ahead of us wherever we go.” Kirk’s expression was resigned. “We’ll just have to be quick on our feet. If we time it right with the Sanctuary car, we might be able to give them the slip. They shouldn’t be able to try anything inside the airport—too much security. It’s once we leave it that we’ll be most vulnerable. In the meantime, try to catch some sleep. You couldn’t have gotten much last night.”

  Stasi rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. She felt exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally drained from all the surprises that had been thrown at her. Her heavy eyelids closed.

  Stasi kept tight hold of Kirk’s hand as they zipped through the airport to meet the car that was coming for them. When he’d called to let them know they were ready, he’d asked the driver to phone him as he approached the curb. Stasi understood his motive. They needed to time it just right.

  Whenever Kirk paused to look around, she took a moment to survey the crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t recognize anyone. But that didn’t mean no one recognized her.

  “You don’t suppose they’ve given up on finding us?” she asked.

  “More likely they’ve realized we’re on to them. They’re staying out of sight—” He nearly jumped when his phone rang in his hand.

  His conversation was short, and he tugged her toward the doors with a brief explanation. “They’re almost to the curb. We need to be waiting.”

  A blue sedan approached.

  “That’s them.” Kirk nodded, hesitating.

  “Are we getting in?” Stasi felt his tension and uncertainty. They didn’t know what they were getting into. She looked behind her at the glimmering reflections against the wide glass doors. Through the shifting images on the glass she caught sight of a figure standing still, one hand on his ear.

  “I’m not sure—” Kirk began.

  But Stasi hurried toward the car. “We don’t have time to not be sure.” She threw a nod in th
e direction of the man. “We’re going.”

  She pulled Kirk after her, but as she slipped into the vehicle, the car began to pull away with Kirk still outside.

  “Wait! What are you doing?”

  TWELVE

  Stasi nearly climbed back out of the car, but the driver slowed, and Kirk dived in, pulling the door shut after them, just as the man who’d been trailing them stepped outside.

  “Trying to leave without me?” He accused the driver, a grinning youth who appeared to be all of fifteen years old.

  “I was. But if the princess wants you to come along, you can come.”

  “Can you get us out of here?”

  “I’ll try.” The young man practically guffawed, and looked back at Stasi in the rearview mirror. “You’re not Isabelle, are you?”

  Stasi’s heart hammered. “I’m Anastasia. Isabelle is my sister.”

  The driver laughed as he pulled into the flow of traffic. “I knew it—I knew it!”

  Unsure what their driver’s exclamations meant, Stasi exchanged worried looks with Kirk. They’d managed to escape the men at the airport, but what had they gotten themselves into?

  The kid pulled into heavier traffic and talked as though he was doing nothing more strenuous than having tea. “They sent a team to find Isabelle. The whole place is buzzing, and then we get this phone call that the princess of Lydia is being held by some anonymous captor at JFK airport.” He slapped the steering wheel. “I knew it had to be the other princess. Should I contact the cars behind us and tell them we don’t need their backup?”

  Confusing as his explanation might have been, Stasi’s mind wrapped around one sentence in particular. “They sent a team to find my sister? I thought she was safe? She was testifying before the United Nations. My grandfather read all about it on the news.”

  “That was yesterday. Isabelle was supposed to go to a safe house today, but her car was hijacked.”