The Equalisers: A Soldier's Oath

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“If we do not help each other, then who will help us?” the driver said bluntly.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Obviously things were changing in this intensely male-dominated society. Slowly, very slowly, but they were happening.

The home they visited briefly belonged to the driver. Willow learned that the three women had been best friends since childhood. They used every opportunity to encourage other women to stand up for themselves as well as others in order to facilitate change.

Food and drink were offered, but Willow couldn’t accept the hospitality since every minute she wasted might be Anders’s last. Not to mention that the longer she stayed in the company of these generous ladies, the more risk she brought to them.

Once at the hotel Willow said good-bye to the good Samaritans who had rescued her from certain death. With their help she was now clothed in full traditional dress, from black veil to long black abaya and no-nonsense black shoes. She’d pinned her shoulder-length blond hair back as tightly as possible to ensure no telling strands slipped loose.

Careful to scan the hotel lobby as she went, she moved toward the bank of elevators. Half a dozen arriving guests were crowded around the check-in desk. Two others had moved on to the elevators.

Despite being fully camouflaged, Willow found herself holding her breath as she waited for one of the elevator cars to arrive. She kept her gaze appropriately lowered so as not to make accidental contact with the other guests standing close by. There were so many rules for public conduct… failure to adhere to even one would attract attention.

The elevator doors slid open, offering entrance and sending a surge of relief gushing through her. She followed the other guests into the waiting elevator car and then selected the floor above the one where her room was located. Since she had no way of knowing what might be waiting for her at the room registered to Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Anders, she needed to take precautions.

The floor she’d selected was the first stop. She emerged from the elevator and moved down the corridor toward the stairwell exit, thankful that she didn’t run into any other guests.

At the exit to the stairs, she listened a moment in an attempt to hear anyone in the stairwell. Sounded quiet. She pushed through the door and listened again. Still quiet. Moving as noiselessly as she could, she hurried down the one flight.

Bracing for the worst, she cautiously eased the door open and peeked into the corridor. What she saw had her swiftly drawing back into the shelter of the stairwell. The urge to run quivered along her limbs.

Suppressing the flight impulse, she leaned against the wall next to the door. She had to think. Think! Forcing herself to recount the details, she analyzed what she’d seen. The door to their room stood open. Men in uniforms that she recognized as the local authorities were moving in and out of the room. She’d seen at least five in the fraction of a second that she’d dared to look.

What did she do now?

If she couldn’t get to their room she couldn’t call.

Sure she had her purse, but no working cell phone. She had a small amount of cash and a credit card, but she couldn’t use the credit card without having it traced right back to where she’d used it.

Going back to the airport with the return ticket in her purse wouldn’t help. The moment she presented her passport she would be taken into custody. Not that leaving was actually even an option.

The bottom line was she was unarmed… and unprepared for a situation like this.

She had to call Jim Colby.

Waiting for the authorities to finish their work and clear out was out of the question. Anders would be dead well before then… if he wasn’t already.

She had to do something.

If she’d asked to use the telephone in the home of the woman who had helped her escape the gallery the call might have led the authorities back to her and her friends. No way could she have done that. Acts of defiance were not tolerated, especially those carried out by women.

But she had to do something.

There had to be a way for her to do this.

If she didn’t figure out something fast it would be too late.

Willow closed her eyes and fought the defeat sucking at her. She wanted so badly to get her baby back. To escape the reach of her devil of an ex-husband.

Right now it felt exactly as if she had failed already. Failed her child and herself.

Maybe it was already too late and she’d been too blind to see it.

Davenport could have been right, and she’d refused to accept it.

What if she was looking for a miracle?

And what if she wasn’t going to find it?

Chicago

Friday, February 25, 8:15 a.m.

“CONNIE, have you heard anything from Anders?” Jim hesitated in front of his receptionist’s desk. “He was supposed to call with an update last night.”

Connie looked up over the rim of her coffee mug. “Technically, I don’t start to work until eight-thirty, but the answer to your question is no.”

She promptly returned her attention to the newspaper.

Jim wondered if she thought her prickly attitude would keep the world around her at a distance. The MO was classic. Don’t let anyone close and you won’t lose your focus and you damned sure won’t get hurt, betrayed or otherwise screwed.

There was a thing or two he could tell the lady about keeping the world at a distance, but that would have to wait. At the moment he had bigger problems to deal with, like where the hell his associate was and just how much trouble he might be in.