Chapter 38: Kidnapped

I handed the phone to Captain Alfred and raced to my cabin to throw on some clothes. Then holding Cynthiana’s office in Zurich in my mind, I was there in a flash. Cynthiana was still on the phone explaining to Captain Alfred what had happened.

Reggie and Isabella were standing beside her desk, going over some sort of map and looked up in surprise when I popped into existence next to them.

“You okay?” I asked Isabella as I hugged her to me.

“I’m okay, I guess,” she sighed as she hugged me. “Just mad. I should have gone with her.”

“It wasn’t your choice,” Cynthiana sighed. “I needed you here.”

“Let’s not start that again,” Reggie admonished.

“Why don’t you catch me up?” I asked.

“Each year, the Princess of Asturias Foundation holds an awards week in Oviedo, Asturias, Spain. Crown Princess Leonor, is currently the heir presumptive to the Spanish throne and the symbolic grand Marshall for the weeks activities. Sofía was with her. As they were leaving a welcoming luncheon at a downtown hotel, The Princess’s limousine was hijacked by a paramilitary group.”

“Do we know where they are now?” I asked.

“They drove approximately twelve blocks, to San Julian, one of the oldest churches in Oviedo,” Reggie reported.

“What’s stopping the Spanish authorities from just going into the church and getting them?”

“The old church only has one entrance and that entrance is completely blocked by mounds of high grade explosives. The explosives appear to be wired with dozens of detonators attached to dozens more tripwires and laser sensors.

“Any word as to what they want?” I asked.

“Nothing yet. They’ve been inside the church less than thirty minutes at this point.”

“What about Sofía? What was she doing there?”

“Sofía’s father, my former husband, lives there. He’s also a past Awards Laureate and his family donates a considerable amount of time and money to the Foundation. Sofía was there representing the family,” Cynthiana explained calmly.

“How long will it take to get there?” I asked.

“About an hour and a half to the airport in Oviedo,” Reggie said. “Then assume 30 more minutes to the old church.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” I said. “Let’s get moving!”

While we were in the air, I gathered more background information. I learned that Princess Leonor, who was seventeen years of age, was actually Crown Princess Leonor, oldest daughter of King Félipe and heir presumptive to the Spanish throne.

I also learned that Oviedo was an old city, filled with old churches, some dating back to the 9^th century. The particular church where the princess and Sofía were being held was built in the 12^th century.

About an hour into our flight, Reggie received word that the kidnappers were part of a radical group calling for King Félipe to abdicate. If not, they threatened to detonate the explosives and level the church where the girls were being held.

The radicals had given the King, one hour to make his decision. The clock was ticking and by my best calculation, there were less than 5 minutes left. I closed my eyes and began to focus on Sofía.

It crossed my mind that this was similar to the time I tried to save the young girl in Dominica, but didn’t know exactly where she was. The problem this time was, if I appeared outside the church, the radicals might just kill me on the spot. Or I might trigger one of the trip lines and set off the explosives myself. I was about to resign myself to waiting until we got there, but then I remembered the clock was ticking. All of a sudden, I could feel Sofía’s panic.

One minute, I was in a seat on our private jet traveling in excess of 500 miles per hour, the next thing I knew, I was standing in a dank, dark, windowless room. A small bulb hung suspended in the center of the room, directly above two figures with cloth hoods covering their heads and their bodies chained to a pair of heavy metal chairs.

An old wooden box, resembling a military-style trunk, set next to the wall, a cluster of wires snaking out of the box, leading to an old fashioned digital alarm clock. The red numbers on the clock were counting backwards. It showed 1:24 left.

“Are you okay?” I asked Sofía as I desperately tried to free her from the chains.

1:20...

1:19...

“Alex?” Sofía asked, confused and surprised to hear my voice. “Is that you?”

1:12...

1:11...

I pulled the hood from Sofía’s head and the first thing she saw was the worried expression on my face. Following my gaze she saw the clock, the red numbers still moving...

1:05...

1:04...

1:03...

“They said they were going to blow something up to create a diversion!” Sofía told me as I gave up on getting her free of the chains that held her and stepped over to remove the other prisoner’s hood. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

1:00...

0:59...

“I don’t know. I’m afraid if I zap it, it will trigger the detonator,” I told her softly as I studied the box. Then I reached for the hood that covered the Princess’s head.

0:49...

0:48...

Seventeen year old Princess Leonor, heir to the Spanish throne, shook her short mane and blinked her eyes in the dim light of the underground room. Then she rattled her chains as she twisted around so she could see the clock. I could see her demeanor change as she quickly sized up the situation. I’ll say this. The Princess was no dummy.

0:39...

0:38...

0:37...

“I think you mean they were going to blow us up,” the Princess cried. “What are you waiting for? Get us out of here!”

0:30...

0:29...

“Ohmygod!” cried the Princess as she struggled against the chains that bound her to the metal chair. “They’re really going to blow up us!”

0:24...

0:23...

“STOP IT!” I screamed to be heard over their cries. “I’m going to get you out of here! I just want to stop the explosives if I can!”

0:18...

0:17...

“Alex, I want you to save the Princess!” Sofía cried. “Don’t worry about me!”

“No!” Leonor replied. “Take her! Get her out!”

I stared as the numbers had now reached 0:15 and counting down. “I have an idea, but the timing is going to be tricky,” I told her.

0:13...

0:12...

“Well, whatever you got, you’d better hurry,” Sofía said softly.

0:10...

0:09...

I looked at the bomb one more time, and made my decision.

0:06...

0:05...

Then, without bothering to unchain the girls from their chairs, I laid my hands on their shoulders and thought of the salon onboard the Cécile, right as I fried the detonator.