Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [122]
They covered the entire compound in less than ten minutes, crashing through doors, moving from room to room in the old Victorian, finding nothing but the mess left behind by Soren and his band of madmen, and the remnants of the fight in the dining room.
Jack took the winding stairs up to the lighthouse and scanned the concourse below, then the bay itself, looking for any signs of a body on the surface. His wound opened again but he didn’t care. His heart was stuck in his throat as his light played across the water. He was relieved when he saw nothing but the black water lit by the sinking moon.
Tony clambered up the stairs behind him. He stared out as well.
“They probably took her to use as a hostage,” Tony said. “You’ve proved pretty resilient—and they know you got away.”
“Yeah,” Jack said.
He hoped that Tony was right.
“Come on,” Tony said, urging him back down the stairs.
Jack followed docilely.
Jack thought about that last look she’d given him, that cold, unflinching gaze, the one that said she was prepared to deal with whatever came next, that she could take care of herself. But try as he might, he could not quite forgive himself for doing as she’d asked.
A mix of dread and anger sluiced through his body as he walked back past the lighthouse tower, clutching the AR-15. The woman he loved, the city he cherished, both at risk thanks to a man he loathed. It was an emotional cocktail that sharpened his focus to a razor edge.
As they exited the lighthouse they encountered a wiry former Navy SEAL who came jogging toward them.
“It’s all clear,” said Jonah Goldman. “Nobody on-site.”
Tony nodded. Jack was looking out at the bay.
“She’s not out there,” he said. “You’ve got to believe that.”
Jack sucked down a long, slow, tremulous breath.
“Now it’s time to go,” Tony said.
They hustled back to the boat, Jack lagging, Tony running watchfully at his side. The long night and loss of blood were conspiring against him.
The world turned and he dropped straight down as they reached the dock.
* * *
When Jack woke the sun was shining through a porthole. He was lying in his cabin, Eddie snuggled next to him.
Jack was instantly alert—and angry. He had passed out and they’d let him stay passed out. He swiveled his head and found Maxine sitting in a chair across from the bed. He was surprised to see her.
“How long have I been out?” he asked.
“Couple of hours,” she said. “They kept you sedated so they could deal with this.”
She held up a small bottle containing a nugget of metal—the bullet Tony had dug out of Jack’s shoulder sometime in the middle of the night. “No permanent damage, but it seems you’ve gotten yourself in pretty deep.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Jack sighed.
“So tell me.”
He did as he tried to overcome the lingering effects of whatever they’d pumped into his veins. He told her about the trip to Tel Aviv, the tense moment at Ben Gurion International, the near-miss with Hassan Haddad, breaking into Abdal al-Fida’s apartment, the encounter with Swain and his magic wand, the deaths of Brendan and the others, the e-mails Alain had discovered, Lawrence Soren and the firefight on the island.… But mostly he talked about Sara, because it was his only way of hanging on to her right now.
“I shouldn’t have left her on that island,” he said.
“What choice did you have?”
“The one I didn’t take.”
“The one where you wind up dead?”
“Might be better than this,” he said bitterly.
“Uh-huh,” Max said. “And if this Swain guy is using her for leverage, then it seems to me you may have saved both of your lives by getting away.” She paused. “But more importantly, we are facing very organized, very powerful, very well connected megalomaniacs who are planning something bad. Stopping them is more important than anything else.”
“What are you saying?”
She leaned toward him now, her expression intense. “I want to help you, Jack. We