Black Sun

To Hawker there was some great truth in the scene, some lesson about life and trouble and how paying attention only to what was immediately around you did not grant a true sense of what was really going on. It was the type of folly that allowed danger to creep in. And he wondered if he was committing such an error himself.

At this moment in time he felt better than he had in years. Not physically, perhaps—the bruising events of the last several hours had left him choosing between ibuprofen and a few stiff drinks—but his mind had grown quiet for the first time in months, if not years. The gnawing sense of guilt, even the dreams of misdeeds in Africa had faded away for now.

He credited the change to being around Danielle and McCarter once again. He wasn’t sure of any greater purpose behind this stone and the prophecy that was linked to it; it all seemed like guesswork to him, but two people he truly cared about were mixed up in it and they needed his help. Whatever the outcome might be, protecting his friends brought with it a sense of purpose and peace.

And yet he guessed there were clouds on the horizon somewhere. He couldn’t see them, or feel their effect at this point, but like the storm out over the gulf, he knew they were coming.

In an effort to stave off the thought, he took another drink from the tumbler beside him. As he put the glass down, the door behind him opened and Danielle came out onto the balcony.

“How are the patients?” he asked.

“McCarter’s infection is getting better and he’s working on what we found down there. And believe it or not, Yuri is actually asleep now.”

Hawker’s eyebrows went up.

“I gave him a sedative. He seems to be doing fine.”

“That’s good,” Hawker said, stretching his leg.

Danielle sat down, then reached out and took the glass from him. After a large sip she placed it down on the table between them.

“Any guess as to how they found us?” Hawker asked, giving words to one of the thoughts that had been bothering him.

“They talked to the boat guy,” she said, sounding convinced.

“Okay, and how did they know to talk to the boat guy? How’d they know we would be out on the water?”

“They have the statue from the Island of the Shroud,” she said. “Those were the inscriptions that led McCarter to his discovery.”

“I thought you guys trashed it.” he said.

“We did what we could, but …”

He looked away. It seemed reasonable.

“You concerned?” she asked.

“Always,” he said.

She smiled. “Listen, my suspicious friend, it’s all right. We got the stone, they didn’t catch us, and Yuri’s okay. We’re all okay.”

“Are we?” he said, staring at her.

Hawker had noticed an odd pattern in Danielle, a type of behavior that had not been present in Brazil. When things went to hell, she grew concerned and introspective. And once the danger had passed, the same overly confident attitude returned. It was in her nature to be bold and aggressive, but this seemed like something else, closer to recklessness, as if she was unbalanced in some way.

She slumped back into her seat, exhaling. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened down there. I should have been more careful with the mix. Forty percent was too high, considering my situation. It was just a mistake.”

A huge bolt of lightning sliced across the sky. It lit up the horizon and the sea beneath it. Seconds later the faintest sound of thunder reached them. It made him think about the stone.

“What do you think that shock wave was?” he asked.

“The stones create energy,” she said. “Some kind of discharge.”

“Maybe because we moved it,” he said, half joking.

“Maybe,” she said. “The weird thing is, if it didn’t happen when it happened, we’d be dead. We’d have hit the beach and those guys would have shot us in the back before we reached the street.”

Hawker took the glass back. “I call that an extremely fortunate coincidence.”

He took another drink and then refilled the tumbler with two more of the little rum bottles from the minibar.

Danielle seemed to relax a bit. She gazed out toward the storm.

“Why’d you come for me?” she asked quietly.

“Moore paid me to,” he said. “How do you think we can afford this luxurious lifestyle?”

She took the glass from him, had another taste, and held it. “I’m serious. The last time I saw you was two years ago. I promised I’d try to help clear your name, but I couldn’t get anyone to move. And then instead of sending someone to bring you back into the fold, CIA sent some guys to haul you back in chains.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I knew how that would play out. It means a lot that you tried.”

She sighed, took another sip of the rum, and put the glass down. “I didn’t lure McCarter into this,” she said, defensively. “I didn’t want him to be out there alone. I thought I could protect him.”

“I know that, too,” he said. “It sucks to know you can’t protect everyone, no matter how hard you try.”

She nodded as if the words held some deeper meaning. But she didn’t offer it up.

That was too bad, Hawker thought, because here for the first time since they’d known each other she’d begun to show an ope

“So that’s why you came to get me,” she said, smiling. “To protect someone you care about.”

“When I met you,” he said, “you were this immaculate, type-A corporate woman. You walked around with a kind of energy that I honestly can’t ever remember having. And all I could think was, here’s a gorgeous woman who can help me get what I want.”

She laughed. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

He guessed that his statement could have been taken a number of ways.

“But then, when we were out in that jungle, you made a lot of hard choices. You did the right things, and by the time we left that place you seemed different. I thought, maybe here was someone who could help me find what I need, a way to believe in something, a way to find some kind of hope again.”

She looked over at him as if he’d said something strange. “I don’t know you as a person lacking hope. You don’t give up. You don’t give in.”

“I don’t like to lose,” he said. “And if I have to go down, I’m going down swinging. But that’s a long way from believing there’s anything out there to win.”

“Defiance,” she offered.

“I guess. But it’s not the same as belief.”

She stared at him quietly for a moment, her brown eyes locked on his, the candlelight bathing her face and her lips glistening from the rum. They were close now, looking into each other’s eyes.

He reached for her, but a shrill chirping interrupted them. It was the satellite phone.

“It’s Moore,” she said, standing up.

She went for the phone.

Hawker slumped back into the lounge chair, propping one foot up dejectedly and grabbing the rum-filled glass once again. “Great. Half the Western Hemisphere is blacked out and I get a girl with a solar-powered phone.”

Danielle took a last glance at Hawker and the storm brewing on the horizon, then picked up the phone. Moving to the next room, she typed in her code, confirming the lock to receive the transmission.

“Sorry it took me so long to reestablish contact,” Moore said. “I know you tried to initiate several hours ago. Things have been a little busy up here.”

He went on to explain how badly the move had gone and how the CIA had seized on the incident as a moment to attack.

“You were out in the open?” she said, surprised.

“Unfortunately,” he said.

“Were you delayed or something?”

“No,” he said, sounding aggravated by the question. “We were on time; there was no reason to expect a spike for hours. It came off early, and a lot stronger than it should have been.”

Her mind raced, going over what had occurred on the boat. It sounded identical. Both stones had discharged unexpectedly. And seemingly random events now made sense to her.