Tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip hard when Nick leaned forward to softly kiss her temple.
“Okay, thank you, son.” Her father sounded a little less worried. “Bye, then.”
The moment they rang off, Nick put the call through to Jameson with the instructions. Then he tugged her to the TV.
“Why would Richard Francis risk being exposed like that when he knows the authorities are after him?” she asked the question uppermost in her mind.
Nick shrugged. “If he’s been calling your parents, then he probably guessed they didn’t know you’d been captured. He was hoping to trip them up into revealing where you are in case you’d left the island after what happened last night. That’s the move of a desperate man.”
“You sound pleased about that.”
His smile was hypnotically menacing. “Desperate means they’re likely to make mistakes, show their hand.”
He mov
ed closer to the TV and turned up the volume.
She raised her voice to be heard. “How are we going to deal with this?” She indicated the press conference with Edda and Hendrick.
His jaw clenched for a split second. “I know how much press intrusion upsets you, but we may have to deal with this head on, sweetheart. It may also serve to draw out Mwana and Francis once and for all.”
They listened for a moment. The news anchor traced a brief history of the unrest in Nawaka, then reeled back to the conference with the Morgensens.
Nick turned off the TV and threw the control on the table with more force than necessary. “At least we know how the news got out, and to some extent why,” he said forcefully.
She sank onto a sofa by the window. “And I can’t really say I blame the Morgensens. I think the world needs to know what’s going on in countries like Nawaka. Maybe if enough light is shed on the situation there, something will be done to ease the suffering, especially for those poor children.”
Nick frowned. “Personally, I have my doubt as to the impact of five minutes on the news. By tomorrow, another bigger story will take its place, and this circus will be forgotten. But I would’ve liked a heads up before the Morgensens went ahead with their interview.” He waved his hand at the now blank screen, pacing the room like a prowling tiger. With every step, his anger grew more apparent.
“What now?”
“Now we see what Mwana has to say.” He went to his desk and hit the speed dial. Spiros came on the line and connected to the videoconference seconds later.
This time he was alone. “Security has checked the package. This one, too, is clean.”
Nick nodded. Spiros opened the package. Another photo of Belle fell out, this one taken as she helped to string lights around a tree in front of the mission. She was laughing with a couple of kids, her face alight with joy.
The image tugged at Nick, robbing him of breath for a few seconds. When he glanced at her, her face was riveted to the screen, a small, sad smile lifting her lips. Nick had to dig deep to tear his gaze away, to focus on Spiros.
“Is there another flash drive?”
Spiros nodded and plugged it in.
The same room, same table with Mwana seated in front of it.
“Good day to you. I feel we’ve wasted enough time on this, so I’ll get right to the point. By now you’ll have met an associate of mine by the name of Richard Francis. Rest assured he wasn’t there to harm you, Mr. Andreakos. He had my express instructions not to do so.”
Nick couldn’t suppress the growl that stemmed from his soul.
“He was merely there to reassure me that Belle was on the island and unharmed. The men who followed were also instructed not to harm anyone.” He leaned forward. “I merely wished to make a point, Mr. Andreakos, and that was to show you that I’m not without the same power and influence you choose to abuse. So here’s what’s going to happen now—” He stopped abruptly as a phone rang nearby. He left the camera rolling as he went off screen. The low conversation was difficult to follow.
Nick exchanged glances with Belle and caught the haunted look in her eyes. “Easy, baby. I have a feeling I know what’s coming. Things are about to get interesting.”
She made a choking sound in her throat. He pulled her closer and ran his hand over her hair just as Mwana came back on screen.
The calm, level-headed despot was gone. In his place was a madman whose hatred shone from icy blue eyes as he stared into the camera.
“Once again, you’ve proven that you prefer violence to dialogue, Mr. Andreakos. You’ve killed good men who were only there to deliver a message. Obviously there’s now no point discussing how you’ll return to me what’s rightfully mine. Not that I’m surprised. Greedy, intransigent men you like are what’s wrong with the world.” He stopped to inhale loudly, and the scar on his face stretched grotesquely as he smiled. “Well, here’s a message for you. I’m coming for you, Andreakos. And I’m coming for what’s mine.”