The Heaven Trilogy by Ted Dekker Read Free Book Online Page B

“No, well done, my friend.” He lifted a finger and raised his brows. “But watch your back. I’m right behind you.”
    “Sure,” Kent returned with a smile.
    But he was thinking that even Will knew that the notion of Will doing any such thing was an absurd little piece of nonsense. The loan manager could look forward to nothing but slipping into eventual obscurity, like a million other loan managers throughout the world. Loan managers simply did not become household names like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. Not that it was Will’s fault, really. Most people were not properly equipped; they simply did not know how to work hard enough. That was Will’s problem.
    It suddenly occurred to Kent that he’d just come full circle on the man. He thought of Will in the same way that Will thought of Tony Milkins. A slacker. A friendly enough slacker, but a dope nonetheless. And if Will was a slouch, then people like Tony Milkins were slugs. Ham-and-eggers. Good enough to collect a few bills here and there, but never cut out to spend them.
    “Just watch your back too, Will,” Kent said. “Because Tony Milkins is right there.”
    His friend laughed and Kent joined him, wondering if the man had caught his offhanded dig. Not yet, he guessed.
    The plane touched down with a squeal of rubber, and Kent’s pulse accelerated a notch. They deplaned, found their luggage, and caught two cabs to the Hyatt Regency in downtown Miami.
    A porter dressed in maroon, with a tall captain’s hat and a nametag that read “Pedro Gonzalas” quickly loaded their bags on a cart and led them through a spacious foyer toward the front desk. To their left, a large fountain splashed over marble mermaids in a blue pool. Palm trees grew in a perfect circle around the water, their leaves rustling in the conditioned air. Most of the guests walking about had come for the conference. Left their branches across the globe to gather in dark suits and gloat over how much money they were all making. A group of Asians laughed around a smoking table, and Kent guessed by their demeanor that they might be near the top. Important men. Or at the very least, thinking themselves important. Some of his future peers, perhaps. Like the short, white-haired one drawing most of the attention, sipping an amber drink. A man of power. Filthy rich. Two hundred and fifty dollars a night for a hotel like this would come out of his tip fund.
    “Now this place is first class,” Todd said beside him.
    “That’s Niponbank for you,” Borst agreed. “Nothing but the best. I think they took the whole hotel. What do you think that cost?”
    “Geez. Enough. You think we’ll have open access to those little refrigerators in the rooms?”
    Mary turned to Todd with a raised brow. “Of course we will. What, you think they lock them up for the programming staff ? Keep their minds clear?”
    “No. I know they’ll be open. I mean free. You think we’ll have to pay for what we take?”
    Borst chuckled. “Don’t be a moron, Todd. They cover the entire trip, and you’re worried about free booze in little bottles. I’m sure there’ll be plenty to drink at the reception. Besides, you need to keep your head clear, boy. We’re not here for a party. Isn’t that right, Kent?”
    Kent wanted to step away from the group, disassociate himself from their small talk. They sounded more like a boy scout troop than programmers who had just changed history. He glanced around, suddenly embarrassed and hoping they had not been overheard.
    “That’s right,” he offered and drifted a few feet to his left. If he was lucky, the onlookers wouldn’t put him with this group of clowns.
    They’d come to the long, cherrywood check-in counter, and Kent stepped up to a Hispanic dark-haired woman, who smiled cordially. “Welcome to the Hyatt,” she said. “How may I help you?”
    Well, I have just become rather important, you see, and I am wondering if you have a suite . . .
    He terminated the thought. Get a