Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“None of this matters,” Dante said with a yawn. “Not really.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“You having to see the ambassador, gangsters being added to whoever is trying to kill you… It’s all moot. The real issue is that we’re still running around in the dark.”
I nodded.
“I mean, someone is trying to kill you because of something to do with Owen. That’s all we’ve known from the beginning, more or less, and nothing has changed. We’re no closer to uncovering what the issue is, and if even Darius, with his resources, can’t figure it out…” Dante trailed off.
“Spit it out,” I ordered my friend, forgetting for a moment who I was talking to.
His eyes fired, and I winced.
“Oh? Okay. I’ll spit it out, then—”
I put up my hands. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
Both his eyebrows were lifted, which told me I was very close to having him unload on me. If I was going to take my frustration out on anyone, picking the one who could annihilate me with a few choice words, because he knew me so well, was probably not the best idea.
Dante took a breath. “We’re out of our depth here, Jared. We need to figure out how to cut through this, so I’m going to call on some old friends this afternoon and find out who the right person to talk to is.”
“You still have contacts here?”
He scowled at me.
“Sorry. You have to take Garland with you. You can’t go alone. You’re not as young as you used to be.”
Dante’s expression changed to surprise.
“I know, I know, pot, kettle, but do you think Noah and Grace would want you walking around with a giant target on your back, alone?”
“First,” he said, getting up and buttoning his Armani suit jacket, “never concern yourself with my husband and daughter. You know better. And second, I’m the only one of us no one knows is here.”
“What?” Chris asked, getting up and coming into the room. “Who knows I’m here?”
“When I spoke to Darius, he told me the word is that the colonel is in Thailand and the Spear is backing him up.”
“How?” Chris whined. “And I never understood that Spear shit. I shoot a gun. How does that have anything to do with a spear?”
I squinted at him, and Dante shook his head.
“I’m seriously asking,” Chris groused at us.
“I suspect,” Garland threw out, “that it refers to that tip-of-the-spear stuff. Like you go in first, and you’re really good, so you got to be called Spear.”
Chris turned to me. “Is that it?”
“Of course that’s it, you idiot,” Dante groused at him, then turned his gaze to me. “Garland goes with you because we both know I can handle myself.”
“I’m going into an embassy,” I reminded him. “Jing will protect me from the scary bureaucrat, I promise.”
“I will,” Jing told Dante. “You can count on me.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt you,” he assured her. “I’m just worried he’ll shoot his mouth off inside, get taken into custody or thrown out of the country.”
“Well, Garland wouldn’t be able to stop that anyway,” she pointed out. “So he goes with you, and I’ll go with Jared.”
“And I’ll stay here,” Chris said, opening another beer. “Someone has to guard the safe house.”
Dante groaned, and somehow, I felt better.
A short while later, we were gliding across the Chao Phraya River, heading back to Bangkok in a different boat than the Demon. Somehow, without any of us knowing, Darius had the boats switched out in the night. It made sense. If we were seen in the same one—and a bullet-riddled one at that—it would make it pretty easy for the police to pick us up. But that was Darius. He didn’t miss much.
Dante gave voice to my concern. “Okay, now this is scary,” he grumbled, getting on the new boat, one made for fishing, not running from mobsters. “How did I not hear the boats being swapped out?”
We were supposed to be on edge, but apparently, when we fell asleep last night, all of us slept like the dead.
“Who was on guard duty?” Dante asked me.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
And of course, moments later, the worst was confirmed as Darius sent Dante and me pictures and video taken by Lee Tae San, who’d been there last night.
“That flight from Ankara is long,” I complained to Dante. “How was Lee with Darius in Ankara but then here in such a short amount of time?”
“He sent him back a day ago to check on us and—what the hell,” Dante grumbled looking at the photos on his phone.
There was one of Dante, drooling, spread-eagled on his bed, looking like a drunk starfish. Lee, taking the selfie with him, was making a peace sign. Mine was worse because there was audio of me snoring as Lee stood over me, giving a thumbs-up.
“I really hate that guy,” Dante said.