“Oui, an arms dealer. He will help us get weapons and passage to Brazil, but it will be expensive.”
“We just got a million bucks!” Zeke said.
Nikolai nodded appreciatively at the thought, and Kamala’s eyebrows raised an inch.
“He is prepared to meet us,” Reaper said. “I know him from way back and he owes me a big favour. I saved his life on Operation Serval.”
“What was that?” Ryan asked.
“A French military operation against Islamic insurgents in northern Mali. Youssef and I were there as part of the Foreign Legion contingency. It was a very brutal conflict and many died, including paratroopers and other legionnaires. Youssef was very nearly one of them, but I talked his potential killers out of it.”
“Talked them out of it?” Ryan asked.
The Frenchman pulled his combat knife out and held it in the air between them. “In fact, this blade did the talking.”
“Ah.”
“Now, we are like brothers.” Reaper put the knife away, lit a cigarette and waved his match out, wincing slightly as the tobacco smoke rushed through him. “Now, Youssef is an arms dealer based in Tunis. Strictly illegal, of course. Not only will he arm us ready for our mission to locate Moran within the Amazon, but he has already tasked his network to try and locate him for us, too. He says he has some strong leads and he’s confident he can supply us with a way to reach him.”
“Solid progress,” Hawke said. “I like it.” He felt the tension in his neck and shoulders ease for the first time in days. Unscrewing a second bottle of spiced rum, he poured out equal double measures into the various tin mugs on the table.
“To absent friends,” he said. “And their rescue.”
They repeated the toast and chinked their mugs together before each took a long, deep swig.
“Good to be on the road again,” Lea said.
Reaper nodded approvingly. “Marche ou crève,” he muttered.
Ryan said, “March or die.”
Kamala watched Reaper suck on his cigarette. “It sounds better in the original French.”
The former Legionnaire looked down at her. “You think so?”
“Sure do.”
Zeke said, “I can’t speak French, but I like the sound of this Youssef guy. If he really can rustle up some firepower and an address for that old spy, then that sounds like we’re cooking with gas.”
Nikolai laughed. “Cooking with gas… I like this.”
“So, it goes like this,” Hawke said. “We get to Tunis and speak with Youssef. With luck, he’s got the CIA guy’s location and can supply us with some weapons. Then, we go in tooled up, and snatch Moran, get the location of Tartarus and rescue our friends. Who’s with me?”
He knew the response before he’d asked the question, and felt a wave of pride when everyone responded with a nod and a smile. Once again, old friends risking their lives to help one another.
“All right, then get some rest,” he said. “Our plans just changed again. Forget Spain and the safehouse. Now we go to Tunis. We can be there in two days. It’s slow, but it’s safe.”
He returned to the porthole. Outside, the night had grown blacker. A bank of cloud moving north from Libya had covered the stars like a Gothic shroud, blurring the line between sea and sky.
The giant ship rolled slightly on its axis and reminded him just how fragile they really were. Always at the mercy of a greater power. He had asked the team to follow him into their most dangerous mission, and they had stepped up without hesitation. While every adventure they undertook carried the extreme risk of death, something told him the next chapter in their lives together was going to be the bloodiest and most challenging they would ever know.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
One of the most rewarding things about writing an expanding series like Joe Hawke is watching the characters change and seeing how they react to new challenges. With this in mind, a different series of adventures now awaits the team, and the next novel in particular, Hell’s Inferno (Joe Hawke 13) is in a new style, giving them trouble like they have never known before. Following that will be what is shaping up to be my fastest ever novel, Day of the Dead (Joe Hawke 14), so stay tuned for more updates.
JOE HAWKE WILL RETURN IN HELL’S INFERNO
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