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)
“The trouble with this town is that you never know who you’re going to meet,” Chris mused. “Say we scoop him up, do you think he’ll cooperate?”
“I assume that’s rhetorical,” Jing said, and I noted Chris reassessing my assistant. She had sounded so cold all of a sudden. “He will talk, whether of his own volition or mine.” Jing’s title was assistant, but they had no idea what she assisted me with.
Chris looked away from her slowly, as if somehow she’d changed right before his eyes. “Aren’t we playing into their hands?”
“Sometimes your enemy’s purpose dictates your response,” I replied with a shrug. “You know that.”
“I do know that,” he agreed. “But what that means is that it could get noisy. We might have to drop bodies.”
“That’s expected,” I assured him.
“In this country, that means the military police on our asses.”
“Which we already said could happen,” Jing chimed in.
“Listen,” I began, “I don’t like the prospect of having a shoot-out with their military either, so we’re all going to do our best to stay under their radar.”
“Let’s call it a night,” Arden announced. “We have a long day ahead of us.”
Chris and Jing retired to their rooms, but Arden lingered.
“Who’s gonna watch over you?” she asked seriously, though I could see she was dead on her feet.
“I can, in fact, take care of myself. I did it for a long time before you came along.”
“Yeah, but you’re older now.”
I shot a death ray out of my eyes, then insisted firmly that she go get some sleep.
“Fine, whatever,” she grumbled.
Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. The peephole gave me a clear view of a man in fatigues, in his late twenties maybe, holding a duffel bag. What made me open the door were the dog tags hanging from his neck and the insignia on his jacket that told me he was an Army Ranger.
“Good evening, sir,” he greeted me. “My name is George Hunt. Darius Hawthorne sent me to help you with your situation.”
I stepped aside, and he walked by me into the suite. When I closed the door and faced him, he passed me a gun case I took eagerly. Our weapons would be there the following day, arriving with Dante. Until then, I had nothing. Chris was always strapped, and so were Arden and Jing, but I didn’t carry anymore in my day-to-day life, so it was nice that Darius had thought to send me a firearm with Mr. Hunt. Of course, after this, I was thinking I’d go back to being armed at all times.
“I’m an Army sniper, sir. That’s my skill set, as well as close combat. But I think, in this instance, it’s best if I stay out of sight and watch your six.”
“I agree. Thank you, Hunt.”
“If you don’t have a bed for me, sir, I can go out on the balcony and—”
“No. Down the hall at the very end there’s two empty rooms. Pick whichever you like,” I directed him.
“Thank you, sir.” He gave me a tip of his head, then shouldered his bag and headed down the hallway. He didn’t have a rifle with him, so I needed to ask him where he—
“Oh shit, look who it is!” Chris announced. He must’ve gotten up to go to the bathroom and found himself face-to-face with George Hunt.
“Old man,” George said with clear affection in his voice. “You ain’t dead yet?”
Chris flipped him off. “What’re you doing here?”
“Gonna watch your back for ya,” he said, grasping Chris’s offered hand. “Do my thing.”
“Where’s your gun?”
“My boss—well, my boss when I’m not deployed—Miguel Romero, he flew it over for me on Mr. Sutter’s plane earlier in the day. I picked it up and stashed it already before I got here. I didn’t know how secure the hotel was, so…you know.”
“I do know. That’s smart, as long as nobody finds it.”
He scoffed. “Ain’t nobody finding that gun but me.”
Chris grinned at him. “I’ve got two beds. You wanna bunk in here?”
“If you snore, I will shoot you in the head.”
“Then you’ll have to explain it to Jill.”
George went still. “Shit. Fine. Just don’t fuckin’ snore,” he groused, shoving Chris aside and walking into his room.
Chris turned then and saw me. He tipped his head over his shoulder. “You should thank Darius, and probably Miguel, while you’re at it.”
Which told me everything I needed to know about George Hunt. I nodded back, and he continued on to the bathroom.
Hours later, I was still staring at the ceiling, wide awake. I went out into the living room and found Arden camped on the sofa, in the dark, drinking mint tea, a pot on the table in front of her, with the bright blaze of downtown Bangkok silently pulsing below.
“I’m glad to see someone else is awake,” I said, joining her and pouring myself some. “Can’t sleep?”