Chapter Fifty
ANGEL SINCLAIR
Saturday morning we were invited to attend a special evening ceremony to learn the results of our UTOP candidacy. The ceremony would take place in the gym at 7:00 p.m. sharp. While I seriously doubted I would be one of the two candidates passing through to UTOP, I was at peace with myself and my actions. The trials had been an amazing experience and had taught me a lot about myself. I didn’t regret one minute of it.
“So, who’s going into town?” I asked as I pulled a dark-blue sweater over my head. “It’s Saturday, after all.”
“Me,” Frankie said cheerfully.
“Me, too,” Kira said.
“Me and my boot,” Hala said, lifting her leg. She’d suffered a mild sprain in her ankle after her leap across the gym. Last night she’d been fitted with an ankle boot and would have to wear it for a couple of weeks. At least she could walk on her own without crutches. We were all grateful she was going to be okay.
We gave each other a high five and smiled. How things had changed in just four weeks.
Not surprisingly, I was the first to be ready. While the others were getting dressed, I announced I’d wait out front for them. I was the only one there until Mr. Donovan walked up, apparently heading inside.
“Good morning, Mr. Donovan,” I said.
“Good morning, Ms. Sinclair. You look in remarkably good spirits this morning.”
“I am.” The stress and anxiety of the last few days had evaporated, leaving me strangely giddy. I guess there was some relief in knowing that nothing else we did at this point could help or hurt us in terms of our candidacy to UTOP.
“Are you feeling okay after the trials yesterday?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
“How is Ms. Youseff feeling?”
“She’s fine. The boot is helpful, and I think she’s glad she doesn’t have to hobble around on crutches.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He crossed his arms and regarded me. “Would you mind if I asked you what the hardest part of the trial was for you yesterday?”
“The hardest part…for me?”
He nodded. “Yes, for you.”
The entire challenge had been hard, but when I thought about it, one part stood out as particularly difficult. “I guess I’d have to say the hardest part for me was guiding seven blind people in separate tasks to do their individual jobs and then get them to work all together to finish it off, all while being extremely pressured in terms of time. It was crazy complicated. I mean, how unlucky did I have to be to get my name drawn for that task?”
Mr. Donovan smiled. “There’s no luck involved when your name is the only one in the hat.” He patted me on the shoulder and walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.
What did that even mean? They’d intended for me to be the Eyes all along? Why?
I barely had time to think about it as Kira, Hala, and Frankie joined me, jostling and laughing. I considered telling them what Mr. Donovan had said but didn’t see why it would matter at this point.
All the boys showed for the trip into town, as well. Wally looked happy, too. He was laughing and clowning around with the other guys. For once, he was clearly comfortable, looking like he belonged. How would we deal with that loss if we had to return to Excalibur? It hit me hard that I was really going to miss the camaraderie I’d formed with this group.
We climbed onto the bus. Today everyone wanted to stick together instead of going off to do their own thing. It was like we knew the end was coming soon for all but two of us, so we wanted to spend as much time as we could together. I’d planned to call my mom as usual, but opted to postpone since we’d decided to go to the café for hot chocolate and snacks as a group.
We piled into the bookstore, chatting as we got in line to get our snacks. I looked around the bookstore café, but didn’t see the elderly gentleman who’d bought me the hot chocolate. His chair was empty. This could be the last time I was in this café, and I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to him.
Hala sat down while Jax and Frankie pushed a couple of tables together. The rest of us brought the food and drink over and sat down. As we nibbled on éclairs, scones, and other pastries and drank our hot beverages, we began to discuss what we’d tell our families if we were sent home.
“I guess I’d just tell my parents I didn’t like it,” Mike said. “I mean, what else could I say?”
“You could tell them the food was gross,” Frankie said. “My parents would believe that one from me.”
We laughed, but the mood was turning somber as reality sank in. Six of us would be going home tomorrow. Wally starting talking about what he would say to his folks when my phone vibrated in my lap. I held it up, expecting it to be my mother wondering why I hadn’t called, but I didn’t recognize the number. I almost put the phone back in my pocket, but I suddenly got this feeling like I had to answer it.
I angled my chair away from the table and accepted the call. “Hello?”
A strange male voice said, “Angel?”
For a moment, I wondered if it were my dad. Maybe he was trying to reach me and would confirm he was still alive. “Who’s this?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Angel?” A burst of static sounded through my phone and the signal dropped to one bar. I stood and moved around to try and get a better spot for reception, but it didn’t work.
“Angel, is everything okay?” Frankie stood and came to stand beside me, apparently concerned by the look on my face.
I plastered a smile on my face. “Sure. I’m just going to step outside for a minute and take this.”
I brushed past her and left the café, the phone still spitting static. “Hold on,” I said to whoever was on the phone.
I got another bar once outside the cafe, and the farther I moved away, the more bars I got. “Are you still there?” I asked.
I didn’t have a chance to hear an answer, because a black sedan screeched to a halt in front of me. A man jumped out the back seat of the car and grabbed me, trying to drag me inside.
I dropped my phone and screamed, kicking and scratching. But he was huge and easily hauled me under his arm like a sack of potatoes, pulling me toward the car. I managed to grab the door rim, slowing our progress, and held on for life. He cursed and starting prying at my fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kira throw open the café door and hurtle toward us with Mike close behind her. But at this point, we were mostly in the car, and it had started to pull away.
They were going to be too late.
Boom!
The grind and screech of bending metal rent the air as another car plowed into the back of us. The collision threw me halfway out of the car. Screaming, I tried get away, but the guy who’d grabbed me was leaning out of the car, still clutching the back of my sweater.
I looked up just as Kira executed a perfect kick over my head and directly onto the guy’s wrist where he held my sweater. He howled in pain, releasing me. I scrambled away, but he got out of the car to come after me.
To my surprise, Mike blocked his way, coming between us. Apparently thinking Mike couldn’t stop him, the guy lifted his hand to knock him aside. Instead, Mike adeptly jumped toward the car, using the vehicle as a platform to leap through the air. He twisted his body around while his legs whirled and scissored through the air. One of his feet hit my attacker squarely in the jaw, the force of Mike’s body slamming his head backward into the car. While the guy was reeling, Kira spun around, delivering a final, brutal kick to his temple. He grunted once as his eyes rolled back in his head before sliding down the car and onto the sidewalk in a crumpled heap. Jax and Bo jumped him, making sure he stayed down. The driver of the damaged getaway car floored it, leaving his conspirator behind in a squeal of tires.
“I’ve got the license plate,” Frankie shouted into her cell, and I hoped she was talking to the police.
Hala hobbled out in her boot. “What happened? Are you okay, Angel?”
“I’m fine.” I looked in disbelief between Kira and Mike. “How did you guys know how to do all that self-defense stuff?”
Mike dusted off his jeans with his hands and straightened. “I’m into parkour.” He grinned and pointed both thumbs at himself. “I told my parents it would come in handy someday.”
“What’s parkour?” I asked.
“Free jumping, flipping, climbing, running, and balancing. Wicked crazy stuff. There are tons of competitions for it around the world and even on television. I do it for fun, but it started as a special kind of training for the French special forces.”
“Wow.” I glanced at Kira. “You know parkour, too?”
“Oh, no. I’m a third-degree black belt in taekwondo and the female East Coast national champion in sparring for ages sixteen and seventeen,” she said. “I’ll have to defend my title this spring to stay that way, though.”
“And you just happened to forget that when you told me about your special talents?” I said.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
“Wow, well, whatever you guys did, it was totally incredible,” I said. “Thanks for having my back. I really appreciate it.”
Wally and Frankie rushed me, asking if I were okay. Hala handed me my phone, and I saw the corner had been cracked when I dropped it. At least it still worked. I stuck it back in my pocket and glanced over my shoulder as the elderly man from the café exited his car and walked toward me unsteadily on his cane.
OMG! He was the one to ram the other car?
I quickly disengaged myself from the others and walked quickly to intercept him. “Are you okay?” I asked, putting a hand under his elbow. “You just saved my life.”
“I’m fine. Have you been harmed?” he asked.
“No, I’m okay, thanks to you. Just a few bumps and bruises.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It was lucky I was just driving by and saw what happened.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. First you buy me hot chocolate and then you save my life. You’re a true hero. My hero.” Impulsively, I threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much.”
He hugged me back. “It’s been a long time since anyone called me a hero.”
I stepped away and looked ruefully at his car. “I’m sorry, though. Your car is ruined.”
“Don’t be sorry. It was worth it. Besides, it was time for me to stop driving anyway.” There was a twinkle in his eye, and I couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.
Before we could say anything else, several police cars with sirens screaming and an ambulance screeched to a halt in front of the café. In moments, we were swarmed by officers, who relieved Bo and Jax of the bad guy and began taking statements from everyone.
I was telling an officer my story, including how Kira had knocked out the guy after the elderly gentleman from the café had rammed into the getaway car, when a guy in a red baseball cap walked up and angrily interrupted us.
“Hey, that’s my car,” he said to the policeman. “Someone stole it. I just reported it, but now it’s wrecked.”
I frowned. “Excuse me, but you must be mistaken. That’s not your car. It’s his car.” I turned around to where my friend had been standing, but he was gone. I scanned the area but didn’t see him.
“Who’s he?” the policeman asked me.
“The gentleman who saved me…he rammed his car into the sedan.”
“Where is he now?”
“He was right there a minute ago.” I pointed to the last spot I’d seen him. “I don’t know where he went. I don’t even know his name.”
“That’s my car,” the guy in the ball cap insisted. “The registration is in the glove compartment. Come on, I’ll show you.”
The policeman went off with him to check, while a medic examined me and another officer finished taking my statement.
“So, you have no idea who would want to kidnap you?” she asked me.
“No. No idea.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but how could I explain everything that was going on with my search for my father, especially when the police had never believed there was anything suspicious in regards to his disappearance? Plus, I didn’t want to have to explain any of the hacking I’d done to get the information.
Another thought occurred to me. What if this attempted kidnapping attempt didn’t have anything to do with my father? Maybe it was just a random snatch or another test to see how we handled ourselves under attack. That wasn’t the vibe I got, especially because the police were involved and people had been hurt. I didn’t think Mr. Donovan or UTOP would go that far. But how could I know for sure?
“We haven’t found the car or the accomplice yet, but we’ll question this guy,” the officer told me. “Hopefully, we’ll have them all behind bars soon.”
“I hope so,” I said with feeling.
The officer sighed and put away her tablet. “We may have to question you and your friends again, but we have enough for now,” she said. “The medic has cleared you, and we’ve contacted your boarding school. They’ll get in touch with your parents. They’ve sent a bus for the lot of you, so you’re free to go. Just be careful, okay?”
Everyone asked me a million times if I was okay. I was. I just wanted to get back to my room and far away from what had just happened.
When the bus arrived, we piled on. Frankie took a seat next to me, breathlessly recounting every detail of the incident. I hardly heard her. I kept looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elderly man who had saved me.
Where had he gone? Was he okay?
I shifted on the seat. “Frankie, you saw the old guy, right? The one who rammed his car into the back of the sedan.”
“Yes, of course I saw him. He saved you. Your own personal superhero.”
Relief flooded me. I hadn’t imagined him, and my mind hadn’t played any tricks as a result of the trauma. Thank God. “Did you see happen to see where he went?”
“No. I guess he went home.”
I looked out the window again, thinking. Finally Frankie fell silent, as did the rest of the group. We’d just arrived at the KIT compound and were getting off the bus when my phone vibrated in my pocket again.
I pulled it out, noting I had a text from an unknown number. I swiped to read it.
I warned you to be careful and that criminal elements were watching you. Stop looking for me. I’m fine. I want you to be careful. I may not be there every time to help. Good luck at UTOP. I’m proud of you.
I reread the message, my heart pounding.
“Dad?” I whispered.