Black Sun: A Thriller by Graham Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

goes the order,” Moore said. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I had to come in person. This is not aninstitute mission, it’s a private one, a deal between you and me, to help someone we both care for.”
    Hawker studied Moore. If there was a redeeming quality to the man, it was that he cared for those who worked under him, especially Danielle. Coming to Africa to solicit help for her was a desperate act, one that could not only end his career but see him off to Leavenworth for the rest of his life. A pariah in the making. Hawker suddenly found new respect for the man.
    “You should know, a big part of why she quit the NRI was our inability or unwillingness to help you,” Moore told him.
    “You don’t have to sell me,” Hawker said.
    “I’m not,” Moore insisted. “I just want you to know it was my decision not to press that fight, and she took issue, strongly.”
    It was good to hear. Hawker couldn’t deny that.
    “I’ve set up an account,” Moore said. “I’ve transferred all the money I could lay my hands on into it. Use it, go to Hong Kong, and get her back.”
    “It won’t be that easy,” Hawker replied.
    “It never is,” Moore said quickly. “You didn’t do this because it was easy. You did it because it needed to be done. Because no one else would do it. And somewhere deep inside, that pisses you off more than anything else. Danielle’s situation is the same. If you don’t help her, no one will.”
    Voices could be heard in the distance, singing and joking. The villagers were coming back from the fields they’d spent the day planting. Hawker had already made up his mind, but he didn’t want to leave the villageundefended. He hadn’t thought about it much beforehand, but now it seemed vital. One flower in the barren garden.
    “You protect these people. I don’t care how you do it. You get word to the right men that they’re not to be touched.”
    Moore nodded. “I can do that. Just find Danielle and get her away from Kang.”
    Hawker would do what he could, but he wondered if it would be enough. “And if I’m too late?”
    Moore did not blink. “Then you find that son of a bitch, Kang, and you kill him. Even if you have to burn down the whole damn island to do it.”

CHAPTER 8
     
    P rofessor McCarter lay flat on his back staring at a ceiling made of thatch and sticks. He was a guest in Oco’s Chiapas Indian village, thirty miles from the base of Mount Pulimundo.
    With Oco’s help he had made it back to the village but it had taken several days and his condition had grown worse each day. The bullet wound in his leg had become infected and neither the prayers of the local shaman nor his potions had helped.
    Fearing such treatment might hasten his demise, McCarter had asked Oco to get him a proper doctor or at least a treatment of antibiotics. The young man had run off for the next town, but the village was so remote that it would take him two or three days to make the roundtrip. McCarter wondered if he would last that long. And when his hosts moved him to the shaman’s hut, he hoped it was not for last rites of some kind.
    A wood fire crackled somewhere to the left of him, but he couldn’t turn toward it. Since the shooting and his collision with the tree, his body had grown stiff, as if a metal rod had been run up through his spine. Any attempts totwist or bend caused ripping pains and he found it best to lay still.
    He stretched his left hand down to his thigh, where a swollen wound marked the entry point of the bullet that had hit him. But he was fortunate: The jacketed bullet had gone right through.
    He’d doused the wound with antiseptic and bandaged it on the shore of the island, but the infection had taken hold anyway. Beneath the bandage, the swelling had grown and become heated. McCarter drew his hand back and remained still, blinking the sweat from his eyes.
    How had it come to this?
The thought ran through his head as if he didn’t know the answer, as if it