Mrs. John Doe

Chapter 44

The men were quick and efficient. Nora couldn’t see anything from behind the hay bales, but she imagined there were eight of them, two men to a crate, two trips each. In a matter of minutes, their business here was done. She and her newest ally waited until they’d all left the barn, but she didn’t hear the final sounds she was expecting, the sounds of the barn doors being closed and locked. Their voices came from far away, out in the drive, as they loaded the crates into the two trucks, but they’d definitely left the doors wide open. The archway to the stables was on the opposite wall from the hayloft; she and Yussuf would have to cross this room in plain sight of the people in the drive.

And they’d have to do it now. Nora knew there wasn’t time to linger here, waiting for these men and their trucks to go away. Even now, Bill Howard and Nassim Gamal would be concluding their business in the farmhouse, and then Gamal would come out here to join his men and leave for the airfield. She glanced at her watch: 1:47. The Cessna was due to take off at three o’clock. Meanwhile, Bill and Craig Elder would be heading up to the bedroom, to fetch her and bring her here, to the stables. To cut her or burn her or tear out her fingernails while her husband was forced to watch, until he told them what they wanted to know. But they’d find the bedroom empty, the sheet ladder waving in the breeze…

Time to move, she decided.

The young man behind her obviously concurred. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her ear, and whispered, “Follow me.”

Nora nodded, watching as he slid out from behind her and crawled over to the ladder. She felt a shock on seeing his face, the man who’d been her nemesis all this time, but she wasn’t surprised to see that he was all in black, as she was-jacket, T-shirt, jeans, boots. He swung down, grasping the top rung with his left hand while his right one still clutched the pistol. He dropped silently to the barn floor.

She was right behind him. She climbed down the ladder to arrive beside him, and they crouched behind it at the back of the barn, studying the strip of driveway they could see through the open doors. The men had finished loading the crates, and they were waiting by the trucks for their leader to emerge from the house. No one was looking this way.

The young man touched her arm, bent forward at the waist, and sprinted across the back of the barn to the opposite wall. Nora copied his movements exactly, flattening herself against the wall beside him. They waited a moment before edging slowly forward, their backs scraping the wall, until they arrived at the archway to the stables. He ducked and ran; she followed. They didn’t stop until they were at the door marked THE GROOM ROOM. He opened the door and called softly, “Mr. Baron, it’s us. Don’t fire.” Then he turned and motioned her into the room. They both knelt beside her husband’s cot.

Jeff opened his eyes and smiled. “Hey, Joe.”

“Hey, yourself,” the young man replied. “Are you up for a bit of exercise?”

“You bet-but I’m afraid I’m going to need some help.”

“No problem,” the young man said, reaching out a hand. Jeff took it, threw off the blanket, and began slowly, painfully sitting up on the cot. He was wearing a filthy white undershirt and boxers, nothing more, and he still clutched the revolver.

Nora was staring at the young man beside her. “Did he just call you Joe? I thought your name was Yussuf.”

Her husband grinned. “Oh, you’ll like Joe, Nora. He’s an actor like you. That’s why he’s so good at going undercover with terrorists.”

The young man gently swung Jeff’s legs over the edge of the cot and placed his bare feet on the floor. “Actually, it’s Josef-J-O-S-E-F. In Israel, we pronounce it ‘Yosef.’ Josef Abrams.” He jerked his head at the dead man on the other cot. “Strip him, please, Mrs. Baron. Shirt, trousers, socks, shoes. Check his pockets for a phone; we could use one.”

She blinked, glanced over at the dead man, then back at her nearly naked husband, and nodded. “I’m Nora. Pleased to meet you, Josef Abrams. Where’s your phone?”

He blushed. “Dead. I used up all the time on it, and I didn’t have a chance to get a new one.”

“You spies and your disposable phones!” Nora said. She went to work on the clothes, determined not to be squeamish, but the corpse was the lesser of her problems. She’d just seen her husband’s arms and legs, which were scored with cuts, long trails of a blade. There were other things, small black marks on his palms and the soles of his feet that could only be cigarette burns. The ribbons of red on the back of his undershirt told her that he’d been lashed, and the bruising inside his left elbow meant they’d even tried drugs on him. And there was something wrong with his right knee. The kneecap was purple, swollen to twice its usual size, the flesh around it an angry red. He’s alive, she kept reminding herself. We’ll patch him up; we’ll fix him. But first, we have to get him the hell out of here.

She handed Josef the articles as she removed them from the guard. She checked the pockets and found a wallet and a handful of coins but no cellphone. Between them, she and Josef quickly dressed Jeff. The shoes were too small, but he forced his size thirteen feet into them. She found her Advil and gave him several of them, gazing nervously at his wounds.

“Don’t panic,” he said. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

When he tried to stand, Nora realized the extent of their problem. His right leg was useless. Josef went around to his right side, virtually holding him up. He’d have to hop on his left leg, with Josef standing in for the right leg.

“Here,” Josef said to her, and he handed her the pistol. She took the weapon, amazed at its sheer weight, and went ahead, holding the door open for them. She hurried down the length of the dark stable, the two men shambling along behind her. When they reached the side door, she held up a hand to stop them, pulled the door open, and peered outside. The woods were empty, as was the drive on her left.

She stepped outside, immediately aware of the light rain that had begun, and crept to her left, to the fence at the edge of the building. She stuck her head out, looking up the drive toward the house. The men were climbing into the trucks. Bill Howard came out onto the porch, followed by a tall, bearded man who could only be Gamal. Craig was behind them, along with a man and woman she assumed were the people from Libya. The man and woman joined the others in the trucks, and Bill and Craig bid farewell to the ringleader, with much smiling and shaking of hands. Nora ran back to the door.

“Hurry!” she said, and she set off toward the wall, the two men behind her.