Judd said as the man shoved him and Lionel inside. Samuel led them to two chairs in the living room. “You were trying to help Ben-Judah escape,” Samuel said. “Doesn’t matter what I did to catch you.” “He won’t escape,” Samuel’s father said. “You can’t hold us here,” Judd said. “We didn’t do anything.” “Shut up,” Samuel’s father said. He turned to his son. “How’d you find them?” “You know I felt guilty about shooting that video. Then, when it was stolen—” “Stolen?” Judd said. “Be quiet!” Samuel’s father said. “Tonight I went to the meeting to see if I could expose some of the zealots.” Samuel glared at Judd. “They preach hatred. They think their way is the only way. Then I saw Judd, the very one who had taken the video. I knew if I could get him to come back here, you would know what to do.” “I told you to stay away from the stadium,” Samuel’s father said. “You could have been killed.” The man sighed. “But finding these Americans might help us.”
