Page 129 of Sands of Sirocco
Ginger held her breath, counting the moments as comprehension dawned on Osborne’s face.He scowled.“If I’m going to Memphis, you’re coming with me, Mrs.Hanover.”
“That wasn’t our deal, Mr.Osborne.”Ginger glared.How her hand had remained steady on the grenade this whole time, she wasn’t sure.The aching in her hand had turned to a cramp.
“You don’t believe I have the power in this situation, Lady Virginia.And that’s unfortunate.”Osborne stalked up to Noah, placed his foot on top of one crate, then kicked it out from under Noah’s feet.
Ginger gasped, stretching her free hand toward him.
Noah fell about a foot, his feet barely finding the next crate, which swayed precariously.Osborne’s men, panicked at Ginger’s sudden movement, fled.Sarah jolted, then stopped as Osborne pointed a gun at her.
The grenade, which had felt like safety, now kept Ginger from reaching for the gun at her own waist.
Noah’s arms had risen, tied behind him, just slightly above his head.His face strained, the position obviously already painful.Men rarely had the flexibility for that sort of movement.A further fall would do permanent damage to his arms.
“Now, when I kick out this next crate, the pain Colonel Benson will feel will be excruciating.His screams will fill these caves.”Osborne was sweating now, a sheen across his forehead.Was he worried?“You can’t save them both, Lady Virginia.Put the pin back in the grenade.Your hand has started to shake.You can’t hold it much longer, can you?But with your hands free, you can try to help him once I flee with Mrs.Hanover.”
“Don’t listen to him, Ginger.He’ll shoot you as soon as he has the opportunity.”Noah’s voice was tight, and he wheezed.His arms shook, the movement causing the crates beneath him to quiver and wobble.
Hold steady.Think.Despite the tightness of her chest, she managed a suffocated breath.He had to be bluffing.
Ginger gave Osborne a contemptuous glare.“No.”
“No?”Osborne’s eyes bulged.
She shook her head slowly.“Because I don’t believe you’ll shoot Mrs.Hanover.We lied to you.That statue?It’s not Ramesses II.You underestimated us, Mr.Osborne.And you still don’t know where that concession paperwork is.Only she does.Shoot her, and you will never find it.”She lifted the grenade.“Your men have abandoned you.And you still can’t kill me because you’ll die if you do.You’ve lost.”
Osborne blinked at her, his face darkening to a deep shade of red.
Stunned silence counted the seconds.
Then, with a yell, Osborne kicked the rest of the crates away.Sarah threw herself at Noah’s legs, catching them as he fell.
Osborne fled.
“Ginger, help me!”Sarah cried out.Her face was strained, blood vessels in her forehead bulging as she struggled to keep Noah from falling further.
Time seemed to slow as Ginger lifted her gaze at the darkened tunnel.Would Osborne come back?If she put the grenade down, he could overpower her, though she still had her gun.
If she didn’t put the grenade down, she couldn’t help Sarah.
Her left hand shook violently, both from the strain of holding the grenade and from the terror clawing at her as she tried to replace the pin.
One try—the pin slipped past the hole clumsily, metal scraping against metal.
Another attempt.The scraping of the head of the pin sounded like mockery.
Steady.
She pictured herself suturing a patient in a field, bombs screaming nearby.
Steady now.
The pin was safely in.Ginger thrust the grenade back into her bag, then turned toward Sarah.
The crates had broken with Osborne’s kick and lay smashed against a stone wall.Diving beside Sarah, Ginger wrapped her arms around Noah’s legs, helping Sarah support his weight as he dangled.
“Cut the rope,” Noah managed, writhing with pain.The tendons in his neck were taut, stretched as he ground his teeth, jaw clenched.
“I have a knife under my pant leg,” Sarah said to Ginger.“If I let go, can you hold him long enough for me to cut the rope?”
