Zalika engaged her in conversation. She tried to pay attention to it, but every time she felt movement behind her, she held her breath. Finally, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. Please, God, help me relax.

As she opened her eyes, everything suddenly felt like it had decelerated to slow motion. The waitstaff wheeled in carts with trays covered in silver domes. She glanced down the table at her father, who wore his polite, “I’m at an important dinner” smile and nodded at the president as he took a drink of water. Her gaze went back to the carts. Before she could even process what she saw, the waiters lifted the domes, and pistols sat where the food should be.

She gasped and opened and shut her mouth, unable to form a sound. With shaking hands, she swiped at her phone screen and hit the button to dial Rick’s number as the armed men circled the room.

A loud explosion shook the room. Her gaze flew to the two men on her father’s detail as they spun toward the sound of the explosion.

“No!” she yelled when two waiters shot the men in the backs of their heads. They fell to the floor, their hands on weapons that never cleared the holsters.

Immediately, she dove under the table before the rest of the room even knew what had happened. “Come on, come on,” she whispered, listening to the screams of the people at the table.

On the fourth ring, Rick answered, “Allô?”

“Rick?” she said in a frantic whisper, so relieved to hear his voice that tears started streaming down her face. “You have to help us.”

“What happened?” His voice took on the hard tone she recognized from the jungle.

“Chukuwereije.” A hand grabbed her from behind and dragged her up. As she dropped the phone, she yelled, “Hurry!”

They arrived at the president’s mansion thirty-two minutes after Cynthia’s call. They’d had to change into their uniforms and gear while conferring with leadership. While the Department of Homeland Security, which controlled the Secret Service, and the Department of Defense, which controlled Rick’s team, argued with the US State Department over details like precedence and jurisdiction, Rick had his men secure weapons and ammunition so that when Colonel Jenkins gave the go, they would go with no delay. The entire time, Rick thanked God that they had all stayed together, that half of his team hadn’t abandoned them for the hotel bar, and that they’d invited Waller tonight. So many different things had gone right to bring everyone into the same room in proximity of weapons and gear that he could only believe God had arranged it so.