Page 140 of High Treason
HPD officers urged the crowd to move back several yards.
Kord joined her at the Ferris wheel. “We need a bomb specialist.”
Agony in her chest caused her breathing to come in short, painful spurts. Why was she doing this?
Clenching her fist, she turned and plodded to the far end of the 150-foot-tall Ferris wheel, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Let someone else take over.
No way could she help the prince when every breath hurt.
Who cared anyway?
Cowardslammed into her mind.
The word penetrated her soul—what it meant, the color of giving up, not who she was and what she stood for. Her faith. Her being.
A war within herself.
A splattering of heavy raindrops beat against her, enforcing the desire to find shelter. At the rear of the Ferris wheel, a roller coaster jutted up against a threatening sky.
Whom do you serve?
God wasn’t fair.
The sound of Kord calling her name caused her to whirl around.
“Are you okay?”
She blew out a burst of agony, mental ... physical. “Did you see what happened?”
“Jafar has the prince trapped at the top of the Ferris wheel.”
“And I’ve got to finish my job.” She half walked, half ran to the roller coaster, where she reached for the metal and started an ascent.
“Are you crazy?”
She smiled back at him. “Has there ever been any doubt?”
Lightning sliced across the sky, so close the back of her neck tingled.
“Monica, you’ll be killed.”
“Then get a sniper in place to take out Jafar. You’ve got to have my back. Promise?” She swung him one last look and jerked out her earbud. He’d distract her climb, and she had to concentrate on what lay ahead.
“Whatever it takes. Monica, I’m not letting you do this alone.”
She ignored him because she feared what he was about to do. He mattered, but protecting the prince came first.
Water soaked her and made the climb slippery, but the raging storm did not match her will to stop Jafar before he killed Prince Omar and many other innocent people. She’d not fail a second time. A quick look down showed Kord moving upward behind her on a parallel metal support beam.
She loved that man.
JAFAR WANTED TO STANDand shout his success from the gondola. After Parvin’s, Youssof’s, and Malik’s failures, he’d succeeded in trapping Prince Omar. Surviving this was impossible for either of them, but it didn’t matter when he would have vengeance for his sister’s death.
“Down on the floorboard,” he said.
Prince Omar squeezed into the narrow space at their feet, and Jafar lowered himself beside the man. He held his gun to the prince’s head with one hand, his other hand on the dead-man switch. “I claim victory for all those who seek your death.”
“What is this about?”
