Chasing the White Lion by James Hannibal (best free e book reader .TXT) 📗

She didn’t know what else to say. Talia hadn’t known how much of Tyler’s spiritual blood he had staked on this one job, intermediate to his ultimate goal of catching Archangel. How could she abandon him now?

Tyler let out a long breath. “I know you want to go after those kids, Talia, but you’re central to every piece of this con. I need you here. Finn or Mac, I could spare. Maybe.”

Finn or Mac. The thought hadn’t occurred to Talia. Faith. Lean. Isn’t that what Tyler was trying to teach her? She didn’t have to be the one to go. “Okay. What about both?”

PRAYER—DEEP PRAYER—BECAME SLEEP, which became waking again, all before the sun rose. Talia did not wait for the others to get up. She left Darcy lying as still as a corpse and crossed the hall to the opposite berth.

A single bunk was set against the bulkhead on one side, and a pair stacked on the other. Mac lay facedown on the single, with one arm hanging to the floor and one big foot sticking out from beneath the covers. Talia turned to the pair and recognized Eddie’s steady snore from the top bunk. That left the lower bunk for Finn.

She gently shook his shoulder. “Finn. Finn, wake up.”

The thief sat up, ducking to avoid banging his head on the upper bunk. “What? Who?”

“It’s me, Talia. We need to talk.”

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “What about?”

“Not here.” She grabbed his hand to help him out of the bunk, but for a reason she couldn’t explain, she didn’t let go until she had him out on the upper deck.

Finn left her side and walked to the stern rail. “What’s so pressing it couldn’t wait until morning?”

She told him about Ferguson—about his lead on the children. “I want you to head out to Thailand early and rendezvous with Compassion’s man on the ground. Try and get to the children now, in case we never make it to the Frenzy.”

“A shortcut,” he said, looking out at the water.

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

“Shortcuts never work out like you hope.” He turned, resting his hips against the rail. “Why me? Why don’t you go?”

“Tyler made a good case for keeping me on task with Club Styx. And . . .” Talia dropped her eyes to her bare toes. “I prayed about it. I think God wants me here.”

“Which means he wants me to drop into a Thai mountain jungle?”

She shrugged.

“Great.”

The moon had set, and with no big-city lights to wash them out, the stars were bright in the predawn sky. Before Talia could come up with more reasons for him to go, Finn spoke again. “You’re needed here, but I’m not. That’s what you’re saying. Like Val said when I messed up in Prague, the team doesn’t need me.”

Her hand was on his again. Talia didn’t remember putting it there. Finn rolled his over and held her fingers. Even with pillow hair and reddened eyes, he had the looks to melt a woman’s heart. Talia had seen those looks in action with fan girls and snow bunnies at his daredevil events. So often, a haughtiness came with them, but not now. Looking up at him, she saw only Finn’s vulnerability—his need to be wanted.

“I’m . . . I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying those kids need you more. Will you go?” She squeezed his hand and pressed closer. “For me?” Maybe it was the sea breeze. Maybe it was the electricity in the starlight. Every romantic experience of Talia’s lifetime told her that was the moment to kiss him. Yet a small voice said, Not yet. She let go and backed away.

Finn did the same. “Right. Yeah. I’ll go.” He walked to the stairs to head below. “For the kids. And I’ll see if I can get Mac to go with me. We’ll fly commercial, first flight out.”

She watched him go, not sure what to say. “Um . . . Thank you. And Finn?”

He glanced over his shoulder from the top step. “Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

CHAPTER

FORTY-

SIX

THE CATACOMBS

MILOS, GREEK ISLES

THETEAMSPENTTHEFINALMINUTES before go time—what Tyler called zero hour—in a Mercedes van, surveilling the entrance to an ancient Christian crypt known locally as the Catacombs. Spotlights illuminated a church façade carved into the hillside bedrock.

“Incoming.” Talia raised a set of binoculars as a town car eased to a stop. The door opened and closed. “Single male. African. Maybe. This might be our warlord’s negotiator.”

Without speaking, Eddie held out a tablet with a photo of two men in the African bush, sporting AK-47s.

She pointed to the man she’d seen.

Tyler gave the photo a glance. “Confirmed. Mr. Aku has arrived. Say a prayer, folks. We’re on in five.”

The usual butterflies played in Talia’s gut, but she felt better about Jafet and Club Styx than she had about Atan and the German Silver gag. A day of planning at the boat and a video chat with some old friends had left her feeling prepared. Still, she prayed for help with the dangers and the unknowns, for comfort for the children in Thailand, and for Finn and Mac. By now the boys were flying low over some of the densest foliage on the planet.

“Did you have to send Finn and Mac?” Tyler asked when Talia opened her eyes, as if he’d been listening in on her conversation with God. “I was only spitballing when I said I could spare them. Now I have to take Mac’s piece of the job, and we still haven’t heard from Pell about covering for Finn since offering him the job this morning.” He stared her down for a couple of heartbeats, then cranked the motor and put the van into gear. “This is not optimal.”

Eddie’s tablet buzzed. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh, what?”

“You know that whole bit about not hearing from Pell?”

Tyler stepped on the brake and turned in his seat. “Spit it out, Eddie.”

“I . . . just heard from Pell. A