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Chapter Seventeen
“You can’t squat inside like a caged animal. Come with us to the beach—night swimming.” Kohen tapped Gage on the back. “By the way, you look like shit.”
He felt like shit. Gage ignored the medic and focused on the screen. Shifting the laptop away from the prick, he scanned the article looking for seeds of intel on Chantal’s father. By all accounts, the man had been a generous philanthropist who’d raced around the globe helping disadvantaged communities. Henri Durant made his money as a shipping magnate, not a whisper of controversy surrounding his livelihood or charity pursuits.
Gage stretched. The dining chair felt as uncomfortable as all hell. “Where did I put that photo of the asshole?”
“You mean on this bird’s nest you’ve weaved?” Gannon shifted a pile of papers, and Gage scowled.
“I know where
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“Don’t shoot!” Hands raised, Alexis emerged through the beams of sunlight and shadow. She looked as tired as Gage felt. Dried blood coated the side of Alexis’s face, and her hands trembled as she stepped around darkened foliage. Her mud-caked clothing looked stiff and damp.Stepping over a gnarled root, Chantal moved to her friend, and Gage blocked her with his broad frame.“What are you doing? Lower the gun.”“She may not be alone—this could be a trap.”“I haven’t been kidnapped,” Alexis called. “I’m just relieved to see you both. I’ve felt disorientated since being dragged down the hillside in a wall of mud.”“The landslide got you too?” Gage asked.“Yeah! I shouldn’t have gone ahead. I heard your shout and it was too late. How many were swept down the hill?”Gage lowered his weapon, and Chantal hurried over
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After opening the door, Chantal forgot to breathe. His solid build took up most of her brightly lit porch. Thanks to the humidity and soft rain, his t-shirt clung to a chiseled frame. No armor, just warm skin. Chantal resisted the urge to reach out. Her gaze traveled up to his face and froze. Set in a harsh grimace, his expression savage, Gage looked ready to go to war.“Your neck.”“I know… it looks worse than it feels. Come in.”Chantal stepped aside, yet he didn’t budge.“I can see every fucking finger mark.”“Fun times.” She focused on the pitter-patter of drops bouncing off the gutters.“Jesus, Chants. This isn’t a joke.”“Believe me, I know.” Chantal walked to the small kitchen and picked up her glass of wine.
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Did the rain ever stop? It was supposed to be partly cloudy today. The gray clouds reflected Gage’s mood as he watched Wyatt lead Chantal from the car to the printing house. She’d been right about hitting the ground running. They’d traveled the length and breadth of Colombo as she’d gathered supplies for the upcoming symposium while methodically ticking off a to-do list in her unwieldy planner.Not only had she fought at the docks with customs over duty payments for wheelchairs entering the country, but she’d bought blankets, loaded up food packages from a food bank, and picked up medical supplies from a wholesaler. Throughout the day, she’d completely ignored Gage and stuck by Alexis’s side. Chantal laughed and giggled with her friend—even flirted with a medical rep. Tamping down on his irritation, Gage and his team trailed behind as her local guards helped her haul supplies to the car.Like the MSD team, her protection
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After helping her mother off the table, Chantal stepped back as her mom gingerly stretched her arm.“How does it feel?”“Good. Better. You’re a miracle worker; you have the magic touch.”“It’s a learned skill and nothing to do with miracles.” Chantal folded a towel as her mother slipped a cardigan over her vest and walked to the sofa in the bedroom corner.“It’s late. Join me for a drink.”“I’m tired—it’s been a long day gathering remaining supplies for the symposium.” Chantal suppressed a yawn.Shrugging, the ambassador uncorked the brandy decanter and poured out a splash of golden liquid. Chantal took in a slow breath, gathering courage.“I mean it when I say that anyone else could step into my shoes.”“You’re my daughter and have my best interests at heart. You’ll continue with my therapy.” Conn
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Hands in pockets, Jona entered the dark pub, glancing over at the big screen’s cricket game. A crowd watched a replay of the one-day international match. Veering past the snooker tables, Jona zoned in on a quiet booth held by one lone occupant. Jona slid into the opposite seat, and the man straightened.“‘Cheers.’ Really? You chose a bar called ‘Cheers.’”“They have good food. British pie.” Beady eyes took in Jona’s hoodie as the thug forked at a piece of pastry and chicken before swiping at the gravy on the plate. Harris shoveled the food into a hungry mouth, glancing up nervously at Jona’s lethal stare.“What’s your fucking problem?” he asked.“Imagining the different ways I could kill you. It’s a game.”“You’re crazier than I am.”“Damn right. And I’ve racked up more bodies at half your age. Never forget that
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Hatton. Sri Lanka. Getting out of the city was what Chantal needed. She paused to take in the lush surroundings as she climbed from the armored suburban on stiff legs. Surrounded by the hills of the Sri Lankan tea country, Chantal found relief in the cooler air. First the three-hour inland trip from Colombo to Kandy, and then the forty-mile trip to Hatton, which sat at an elevation exceeding 4000 feet. The perfect climate for growing the finest tea in the world. Mixed feelings over the location for the symposium had Chantal turning her back on the lavish plantation bungalow. To tourists, the tea fields provided a perfect getaway, set amongst green vistas, and waterfalls. Their every whim was taken care of, in luxurious rooms, between visiting tea estates and tasting herbal beverages. Many visitors ignored the colonial air permeating the region or the reality for the female workers picking tea for ten-hour days—a back-breaking
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The stuffy auditorium had Gage on edge. Both MSD teams and local forces had locked down the symposium. Gage now stood to the side of the small stage and watched the crowd, made up of VIPs, local politicians, the media, and foreign diplomats.Chantal was the next speaker. Feeling on edge, Gage shifted his stance and focused on the packed room. Thanks to intel, he recognized many familiar faces. After flagging a few unknowns and communicating with his team, Gage watched Chantal step onto the stage. She looked sophisticated in a navy pants suit—not overtly sexy, but it didn’t need to be. A pale blue silk scarf concealed the healing marks on her throat. Gage hated that reminder—of his failure of her physical and mental protection. He watched Chantal move across the stage. The way she walked and held herself communicated alluring confidence. Like her mother, Chantal played the intellectual card well and to her advantage.Tea
Strikethrough Book One - Strike Zone Series Chapter Twenty Four
Chantal looked up as Wyatt approached, taking the opportunity to stretch out her back as she helped a patient off a bed. “You’ve been at this for hours. It’ll get dark soon.” Dishan joined her Agent in Charge and agreed, a concern reflected in his eyes. “It’s time to call it a day, after fifteen hours on your feet.” “I could help so many more.” Chantal looked around the humble meeting space where they’d set up their makeshift treatment site. “You still have tomorrow.” She did. They planned to leave in two days, and she wanted to see at least sixty more patients. She wasn’t the only one hustling—the two local chiropractors who owned the center took the lead on the operation and shouldered the bulk of the work. “Nanri.” The Tamil term for thanks rolled off her tired lips, and conceding to Wyatt’s request, she ga
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