Chasing the White Lion, James Hannibal [ebook reader macos .TXT] 📗

yard. Thet Ye and the girl were only a few paces from the church when the pastor burst through the door and tumbled down the steps, his shirt on fire. Smoke billowed out behind him.

The little girl screamed. The students gathered in a helpless circle while their pastor rolled in the grass at their feet. Teacher Rocha forced her way between them with a tarp and smothered the flames.

“I’m all right.” The pastor, known in the camp as Pastor Nakor, pushed the tarp away. “Only a little singed.”

He was not all right. Thet Ye could tell by the way he scrunched up his face as the teacher helped him to his feet. But Pastor Nakor took charge anyway. “We must go into the jungle. The trees will protect us.”

Thet Ye understood. His father had told him the story. On the night of the last fire in Ban Doi Henga—the night Thet Ye was born—the jungle had saved many. The trees of the Thai rain forest were so wet they refused to burn.

Still, the students stood in the yard, hypnotized by the flames.

The pastor motioned them onward. “Go!”

Where was Hla Meh? A hand pressed Thet Ye toward the jungle. Teacher Rocha. He obeyed. He’d have to find his friend once the whole class was safe.

Once they were clear of the smoke, deep in the trees, the troop stopped, breathing hard and coughing. Black smudges masked every face, streaked with sweat and tears. The jungle muted all sound, so that the crackle of the fire and the shouts from the camp seemed miles away.

“Hla Meh?” Thet Ye spoke her name instead of shouting, hoping she was close by. She didn’t answer, and he didn’t get a second chance to call.

The rat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun broke the quiet. Soldiers stepped from the surrounding trees. Pastor Nakor lurched toward the nearest of them and received a crack to the forehead with the butt of a weapon. Thet Ye recognized the attacker—the nice soldier from the day he and Hla Meh had run off into the jungle. He did not seem so nice now. Many of the children cried.

The soldier planted his boot in the small of the pastor’s back. “Quiet down.” He fired his weapon in the air. “Quiet! I want you to hear me. This hour—this second—is the start of your new lives. I am Soe Htun. And from now on, you all belong to me.”

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

WOLF MANOR

WOLF TRAP, VIRGINIA

EDDIEDIDN’TSHOWUPON FRIDAYNIGHT. That upset Talia. She had needed a good cry, and Eddie was her go-to shoulder. But she awoke on Saturday to the sound of him arguing downstairs in the great room, in between sniffles and sneezes. Talia thought she recognized the other voice, although she hoped she was wrong.

A trip downstairs proved she wasn’t.

“You called me for help, mano. Don’t you think you should listen?” Franklin Perez, chief of Tech Ops and known in the Directorate as the Goblin King, raised his wheelchair to bring himself nose to nose with Eddie. “The fiber optic output goes behind the photon emitter.”

“But that will cause EM field interference.”

Franklin slapped a screwdriver down on a wood table beside a glossy black apparatus, a circle about a half meter in diameter. “Exactly.”

Both men adjusted their glasses at the same time and stared each other down.

Mac, Finn, and Darcy lounged on dark leather couches and chairs while Conrad moved among them, pushing a cart of hot drinks and braided pastries. They looked like spectators at a ping-pong match.

“Eddie,” Talia said upon reaching the inner rim of this peanut gallery, “what is Franklin doing here?”

Tyler appeared at her shoulder, a steaming mug hovering at his lips. “I know, right? An Agency tech officer, here on a Saturday, mixed in with our merry band of thieves? I feel like someone got peanut butter on my chocolate.” He took a sip and swallowed, showing his teeth. “Or vice versa.”

“I mean he works with Jordan. He could have led her here.”

“Nah. You and Franklin aren’t close.”

Talia walked away from him.

“Hey, chica.” Franklin ditched Eddie and rolled across the room’s giant Persian rug to greet her. “Nice place you got here, but there’s a big problem. The front door ain’t wheelchair accessible. I had to come in through the kitchen.” He lowered his voice, cupping a hand to his mouth. “The servant’s entrance. I could sue.”

Tyler sipped his coffee, several feet away. “That is not a servant’s entrance, Franklin.”

“Oh, I think it is, jefe. It’s not like you called me here to watch football.”

Eddie glanced up from his work on the black device. “No one ever invites you anywhere to watch football. You hate football.”

Conrad had rolled his cart alongside Talia to cut her a slice of pastry. Franklin gave him a chin lift. “This guy knows what I mean, don’t you?”

“Not in the slightest.” The pleasant smile never left Conrad’s face, but as he handed Talia her breakfast, she saw the knife turn and rest against his forearm, blade out.

She pressed the control pad of the high-tech wheelchair and steered Franklin back to Eddie and the device. A panel lay on the table beside it, with a spaghetti mess of wires sticking out. “What have you brought us?”

“New display system. Eddie convinced your boy Tyler to buy one, and now he can’t set it up without me.”

“I can too.” Eddie pushed a pair of wires together. They sparked. He yelped and sucked on his finger.

“Sure. So, why’d you call me out on a Saturday, then? You wanted to see what a legless Marine looks like in short pants?”

The argument continued. Talia took a seat with the others to watch, suddenly grasping the appeal.

Finn claimed the seat next to her. “This is like the nerd version of Real World.”

“That’s not a thing anymore.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be. And they’re geeks, not nerds. One is a social group. The other is an insult. I keep telling you.”

“And I keep ignoring you.”

Talia finished her last bite of maple butter twist and set