Page 26 of Ozzie

We wait in total darkness. Voices overhead come closer. A door opens, and footsteps pace the area above us. There’s muffled yelling, and then the door closes. The voices begin to fade.

“This is our window. Be ready to run,” Harding says.

“How did you know about this place?” JB asks.

Harding grins. “Not my first time here.”

We leave the way we came in. Once out on the street, the wind picks up, and it’s noticeably colder than it was ten minutes ago. Harding increases her pace until she’s running. Lightning is carrying JB again, but he has no problem keeping up. I stay in the back.

Ten minutes into our jog, the first snowflakes begin to fall. They’re falling slowly, and I tell myself we have time.

“How far away is this car?” Lightning asks.

“About a quarter mile,” Harding says.

All right. That we can manage.

“Up here on the right is an otopark. We have a car there,” Harding says.

But as the otopark comes into view, it becomes clear there is no car waiting. The entire area is blocked off and contains construction materials.

Lightning sets JB on his feet. “Can you run?”

JB nods.

Harding grabs her phone and makes a call. “Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?” she yells.

The temperature is dropping fast, and the snow has picked up. There isn’t a lot of traffic out, but we are sitting ducks standing on the side of the road.

Harding pockets her phone and closes her eyes as she stares into the sky. She takes a deep breath and steps back to us. “It turns out the agent who was supposed to secure the car went to the car rental agency much later than he was supposed to. The rental place shut down early due to the impending storm.”

“Okay, but can’t that agent pick us up in his own car?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “He doesn’t have a car. He walked to the rental place. We are welcome to stay with him, I’m told.”

“How far is his place?” Lightning asks.

“On foot, nearly an hour, and we have to cross a bridge with no pedestrian lane. We’ll figure something else out.”

The snow is sticking to the road, which explains why there is less traffic.

“Harding, how bad is this storm predicted?” I ask.

“All I was told was record-breaking. Let’s get off the main street. My gut says someone is still looking for us.”

Harding crosses the street, and we follow.

“There will be more than one person looking for me,” JB says. “I overheard a guy talking on the phone. He demanded fifty million dollars for my release and said it was less than the other guys would have asked for.”

I don’t know much about this senator, just that hecomes from a family of money and is one of the top ten richest men in the world.

“Why did you come to Istanbul?” Lightning asks him.

JB smiles. “For a party. Everything was great until the next morning, when I was cornered after I checked out of my hotel.”

“You didn’t have security?” Lightning asks.

JB sighs. “No. My dad always insists that I do, but I thought he was being overprotective. Besides, no one knew I was coming. It was a last-minute decision.”

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