Chapter 36

The tiny hotel room felt like a prison cell. Everything in Europe was too small for a man of Tyson’s size. His feet hung off the bed, the pitiful stream of water in the shower wet only a hand’s breadth of flesh at a time, and passing through a doorway meant risking a concussion. Curse this place!

He looked out the window and down at the throngs of tourists wandering the streets of Rome, taking in the sights. What must it be like to live so free, without a care? Suddenly he couldn’t remember what it felt like to live without a death sentence hanging over your head. There was no question — Tyson was a dead man walking unless he could find Zafrini, and thus far she had eluded him at every turn. The thought of the woman and her companions, Bonebrake and Maddock, set his teeth on edge. Somehow he had to find them, and when he did, he would take his sweet time making them pay for putting him in this position.

His phone rang. When he saw the identity of the caller, he considered hitting the ignore button. A call from Yusuf was seldom good news. Did this mean the clock had run out on Tyson and Ahmed? Was Shawa’s right-hand man calling them to account? Perhaps he shouldn’t answer. Then again, it wasn’t like he could avoid Shawa forever. There was no leaving the Trident, much less escaping its reach. He glanced at Ahmed, who nodded once. Reluctantly, he accepted the call.

“This is Tyson.” He hoped his voice didn’t tremble. He hated sounding weak.

“Tyson, it’s Yusuf.” The voice was scarcely audible.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Just listen. There isn’t much time. I think I might know where Zafrini is.”

Tyson’s heart skipped a beat. “Go on,” he said, not daring to get his hopes up, yet dying to get out of this dingy hotel and back on Zafrini’s trail.

“I received a report that the large Indian she is traveling with was spotted leaving an airport.”

“Bonebrake.” Tyson uttered the name like a curse. “Are you certain it was him?”

“He wasn’t wearing an identification tag, but he’s unique. And he was traveling with a man and a woman. Besides, he’s looking for the ark. What are the odds another giant American Indian would show up in Arusha?”

Tyson forced a laugh that came out as a grunt. “Arusha? Then they are following a cold trail. We have searched that mountain thoroughly.”

“The trail doesn’t matter right now,” Yusuf said. “What matters is that you and Ahmed must catch up with Zafrini and her party and recover any documents or items they might have in their possession. Shawa will permit you this last chance to make things right, but he will not tolerate more failure.”

Tyson did not have to ask about the items to which Yusuf referred.

“It would also be a good idea for you to take Zafrini in,” Yusuf continued. “I think Shawa will want her questioned. There’s no telling what she might know.”

Tyson breathed a sigh of relief. The chase wasn’t ended yet.

“Yusuf, I can’t thank you enough for this. You just might have saved my neck.”

“Don’t thank me yet, my friend. Just get this mess sorted and get yourself back into Shawa’s good books before he calls you in to answer for your blunders.”

That last bit stung, and even seemed a touch unfair, but Tyson was not foolish enough to express surprise. Shawa despised incompetence and he accepted no excuses for failure. “I understand.”

“Good,” Yusuf said. “If you need more men, you will have to hire them from among the locals. I can’t help you in that regard without risking Shawa finding out. And keep your eyes open. We have reason to believe that Boko Haram has planned something for Arusha, and it could happen soon.”

“I owe you.”

Yusuf chuckled. “Yes you do. And don’t think I won’t collect when the time comes. Good luck.”

Tyson ended the call and pocketed his phone. He wasn’t sure what Yusuf met by that last comment, but that was the least of his worries right now.

Ahmed looked up from his magazine, his gray pallor belying his feigned nonchalance. “What did Yusuf say?”

“He says it isn’t over just yet. Grab your things. We need to catch a plane.”

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