Jack walked over to the remote and turned on the large screen television, making sure to keep his gun trained on Olivia. He quickly found a national news network, his jaw dropping when he listened to a blonde anchor talk about multiple arrests of various government officials involved in acts of terrorism. “Documents we received just a short while ago indicate that these officials were responsible for selling U.S. military arms and munitions, as well as government secrets, to various terrorist organizations. These people were responsible for the downing of several flights, in addition to the bombing of multiple government buildings here and abroad. The Secretary of State made a statement saying that this is the most pervasive corruption in the government that she has ever seen. The man behind it all had apparently faked his own death over twenty years ago to cover-up his role in this operation.” A photo flashed on the screen. “This is Jack DeLuca and he is wanted in connection with these acts of terrorism. He also goes by the alias Nathan Roberts.”
“NO!” Jack screamed, nervously walking back to face Alexander. He pointed his gun at him, then back at Olivia, and then back at him.
Alexander looked over and saw Simon holding Grant’s gun, lying flat on the ground, the gun following Jack as he paced the large room. Discreetly holding up his hand, Alexander signaled him to wait a little longer until he was certain that he’d be able to make the shot. He knew they only had one chance to take him down and he couldn’t risk Simon missing. Returning his eyes to Jack, he said, “It’s over.”
“No, no, no, no, no…!” he cried out, shaking his head. After several intense moments, he slowly lowered his gun.
Alexander breathed a sigh of relief, taking a step toward Jack to retrieve his weapon and restrain him.
In the blink of an eye, Jack raised his gun and shot Olivia through the chest, a cruel look of fulfillment crossing his face.
“NOOO!” Alexander screamed as more shots rang out. Jack fell to the floor and Simon got up, running over to him, shooting him through the heart several more times while Alexander ran to Olivia’s side.
He quickly cut her from her restraints and pulled the tape off her mouth. He lowered her lifeless body to the floor and frantically tried to find a pulse as Martin dialed 911.
“Come on, Olivia!” he cried. “You cannot die on me! Not now. Please. Stay with me.” Alexander cradled her in his arms. “I can’t survive without you.” Tears overtook him as he wept for his Olivia lying lifeless in his arms. “I need you, love. I promise I’ll always protect you from now on. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just, please… Come back to me…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GRIEF
ALEXANDER SAT IN A complete daze as the EMTs arrived and pried Olivia from his arms, speechless from the trauma of what he just witnessed.
After paramedics administered CPR and found a pulse, they quickly put Olivia on a gurney, continuing to give her oxygen.
“Sir, is this your wife?” Alexander heard a voice say as he stared blankly ahead, still unable to process what was happening. “Sir?”
Alexander finally snapped to. He cleared his throat, grabbing the ring from his pocket. “Yes. She is.” He gently placed the ring back on her finger where it belonged, a tear falling down his cheek as he felt Olivia’s cold hand.
“We’re taking her to Cape Cod Hospital. Would you like to ride with us?”
Alexander slowly nodded his head, following the EMTs out of the beach house.
“I’ll stay here and take care of the police,” Martin said to Alexander as he walked through the doorway. Their eyes met and Martin couldn’t remember ever seeing him so distraught. “She’ll pull through, sir. She’s a strong girl.”
“I’m so sorry, Alex!” Simon called out, clutching the gun. “I never meant for this to happen.” He fell to the floor, crying.
Alexander showed no emotion as he turned to catch up with the EMTs, an empty expression on his face.
The next several hours passed in a daze while Alexander sat in the waiting area at the emergency room, gazing ahead at the white walls. Every time he closed his eyes, Olivia’s lifeless, blood-stained body flashed in his memory.
“Alex! Snap out of it!” his sister pleaded with him as soon as she reached the hospital in the early morning hours. “Come on. Olivia is in there fighting for her life. You need to tell us what happened…to help her. They got almost everyone involved, except Kiddish. He got away. He’s still out there so you need to tell us what the fuck happened!”
To help her. Of course! “Damn it!” Alexander roared, punching the wall, startling several nurses.
Carol ran and put her arms around him, trying to calm him down. “There’s my baby brother. Now, what happened?” she asked, leading him back to his chair.
A tear fell down his face. “She was shot,” he quivered. “The bastard shot her in the chest.” He looked past his sister. “He’s dead now, though. They’re both dead. Simon…”
“What about Simon?” Carol asked urgently, needing all the pieces of the puzzle.
“He was in on it. I think he’s the one that abducted her…but then something must have happened. Like he intervened on her behalf because, when I got there, he was knocked out cold on the floor. Then he came to and shot Jack. Simon helped! But Grant… He fucking raped her! And her dad let him!” Alexander let out a small cry, remembering the sight of Olivia tied to the chair, blood trickling down her thighs. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the motherfucker myself!”
Carol turned to face Alexander, grabbing his hands in hers. “She’s going to be okay, Alex. I just know it. You didn’t spend your entire life looking for this girl just for her to be taken from you again.” She stared at her brother, trying to reassure him. He looked like a shell of his former self.
He had seen some heavy shit during his time abroad and had dealt with it fine, but he could not handle losing Olivia all over again. He knew that he wouldn’t survive this if she didn’t pull through. Olivia was the only thing that kept him going. She was his heart.
Carol stood up, knowing that the press would have questions about what was going on. “I’m going to keep the police away from you, and I’ll make sure they have a spokesman on standby to deal with the media. I’ll call your publicist, as well, and tell her that she is not to answer any questions or make any comments on your behalf until further notice. Okay?”