Wiser Than Serpents (30 page)

He stared up at her, closed his mouth, swallowed. Then gritted his teeth because his eyes filled. “I wanted this to be different.”

Yeah, her, too. She looked up, wiping her face. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know you needed it to be different. That you wanted a happy ending, for all of us, but—” He closed his mouth, stared at her. “You gotta go. Please. Before Kwan changes his mind and decides to hurt you. Because I couldn’t live with that.”

His words hung there between them, ugly and raw, and she shook her head, because, no, he wasn’t going to live, not at all.

Oh, David. And then, because she had to, because she
was
going to leave him, but when she did everything inside her would shatter, and then there’d be nothing left, she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Really kissed him. With everything inside her, just like she had ten years ago, but differently, because this wasn’t about youth and passion.

This was about her telling him that she wasn’t going to let him die without knowing that she loved him right back. She leaned away, putting everything, all her emotions, all her love right there, in her eyes for him to see. “Thank you, David.”

He stared up at her, a broken look on his face. “Yanna—”

She didn’t let him finish, just kissed him again. And although his arms were behind him, he leaned into the kiss and gave it all he had. And he didn’t pull away, either, not once, just kept kissing her, over and over until hands grabbed her arms, pulled her away.

“No!”

Kwan shoved her away, toward the door, where Elena caught her. “No!”

David was breathing hard, his eyes on her as they pulled her out of the room and shut the door behind her.

I
f Kwan wasn’t going to keep his promise, David wouldn’t, either. He crouched on the floor, breathing hard, his heart beating its way out of his chest, and tried to steel himself for what might lie ahead.

He’d heard what Kwan said when he closed the door, heard it in Mandarin, loud and clear, like a blade separating his ribs and taking out his heart. “Take them to the yacht. We’ll kill them when we get out to sea.”

David closed his eyes, tried to focus on his breathing. This wasn’t over. Not until Yanna was free. He just had to hold out until he knew Yanna was safe.

Only, exactly, how would he know that, because he guessed that might get technically challenging with him locked in the basement, bleeding from his ears.

Oh, Lord.

Everything,
everything,
he’d done had failed. Finding the real Kwan, rescuing Elena, getting Yanna to safety. Even trying to show Yanna that she could trust in God to deliver them. Yeah, that had been a resounding success.

Help me, Lord. Help me hold on to my faith.
Because kneeling in the puddle of grime, his head pounding, knowing that as soon as Kwan returned things would get ugly, he felt himself slipping. Fast.

Help me, Lord.

Who do you have in heaven?
Roman’s words rushed back at him and David grabbed them for all he had, gulping them in.
There is nothing I desire on this earth but the Lord. He will guide me and then bring me to glory.
The words from the psalm riveted into his head.

Do you trust God, David?

David leaned forward, head bowed. He’d grown up, his faith embedded in him, believing that God loved him, had a purpose for him. It had become the fabric of his life, the very substance that formed him.

He heard the dripping of some far-off water pipe onto the concrete. Feet scuffling outside. Doors slamming. Heard a woman’s cry.

He clenched his jaw.

God, I want to trust You. I do. I…trust…You.

And just like that, he felt it, a breath or wind or maybe a touch so powerful it swept through him, through his breathing, into his heart, his bones, his cells. He drank it in, gulping whole this feeling of strength. Of wholeness.

He lifted his head. Breathed out long and hard. Stared at the door.

He could do this. He could, and would stay the course. And when he died, he’d know that he’d accomplished his mission.

Because, while he might do just about anything for his country, he would
die
for Yanna. And she, without a doubt, had been the mission. Kwan and his ilk would always prosper or seem to, and people like David, believers in truth, would always fight them. But they didn’t fight only an earthly battle against evil. They waged a cosmic one, for lost souls. And if David could pour out his life helping one woman—
the
woman—to see that God loved her, by being the face of grace to her, then…yes, this was why he’d come to Taiwan.

Why he’d lived the life he had. Made the choices he’d made.

The choice to love Yanna, from a distance. To pray for her. To be truth and commitment and support in her life.

He heard her words again, now letting them inside to touch him.
You make me believe that God loves me.

To believe that God loved her.
Thank You. Thank You for letting me see You touch her life.
David breathed in. Out.
Thank You.

He lifted his chin as the door opened. Bring it on, Kwan.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a semi and dragged down the street.”

Huh? David blinked against the light pushing into the room from the hallway, his eyes wide as he connected the body to the voice. The body crouched next to him, grabbed his arm. “You okay, pal?”

Roman? David opened his mouth, but nothing came from him.

“Can you stand?” Roman tucked his hand under David’s arm. “How bad are you hurt?”

Aside from his legs wanting to give out and his brain in knots…“I’m okay. I’m—where’s Yanna?” Okay, now he was fully functioning, at least zeroing in on his priorities. He turned his hands toward Roman. “Get me out of these.”

Roman nodded, turned toward the hallway. “Bruce! We need a handcuff key here!”

Bruce? “Oh, no, Roma, Bruce is—”

“Really glad to see you.” Bruce came in holding his 9 mm pistol, and slapped a key into Roman’s hand. “We thought you’d be fish bait by now.” He stepped back from David, which was a good thing because it gave David about five extra seconds to debate what he was about to do as Roman unlocked his handcuffs.

He did it anyway.

“David, let him go!”

But David wasn’t listening, just squeezing. He had Bruce up against the wall, one hand around his neck, the other pinning Bruce’s weapon hand to the wall where he could see it. Bruce had his hand around David’s wrist, was trying some kung-fu bone-twisting, hold-breaking move on him, but David had gone into pit-bull mode.

He wasn’t moving until Bruce coughed out every one of his sins.

So what if it might be hard to talk with his oxygen cut off—he could nod, right?

“Were you the one telling Kwan where to find us? Only you knew I was having a meet with him, only you knew about the safe house in Taichung. Why, Bruce, why?”

Oops, that wasn’t a yes or no answer. But Bruce was shaking his head anyway, kicking him, punching him in the face. David didn’t budge. Not when, in the back of the chaos, he saw Yanna on the boat, white with fear when Kwan told David he was going to kill her. Not when he remembered their contact at the safe house, and Trish Yung’s crying in pain, and—

“David! Stop!” Roman had him now around the neck. “Bruce didn’t do it!”

“He’s the mole, Roman, he’s the mole.” David’s voice had pitched to a deathly low level, all his energy on keeping his hold.

Bruce had started to turn white, was blinking his eyes.

“He nearly killed Yanna, nearly killed me. He hurt Cho and Trish and her baby.” His voice cracked. “And Chet—what about Chet?”

“Chet’s alive. And you’re killing Bruce. You don’t want to do this. If he’s the mole then we’ll find out, but—”

“David.”

The voice, calm and sweet beside him, cut through his haze of anger.

“David, let him go.”

He looked over at Yanna. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking her head. “Please.”

David closed his eyes.
You make me believe that God loves me.

He blew out a long breath, and impaled Bruce with a glare.

Then he let go.

Bruce slumped down against the wall, gasping in breath. David stood over him, breathing hard. “So help me, if I find out you’re the mole…that you’re behind hurting my friends…”

“He’s not. He saved your life, David.” The voice came from behind Yanna, and David looked up to see his old partner standing there in the doorway, handgun at his side. Chet.

A very alive, sturdy-looking Chet in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. He must have swiped them from someone, because he didn’t have it buttoned all the way due to the fact that he couldn’t get the shirt around the bandage that crisscrossed his chest. David hurt a little in the same place, seeing him. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”

“I got wind of this story about my partner running around Taiwan, busting up bad guys. You have all the fun.”

David locked eyes with Yanna. A very alive Yanna. Then, right there in front of everyone, he reached out and pulled her to himself. And she hung on, as if she had always belonged there.

Which, she had.

“How’d you find us?”

“Yanna’s wizardry,” Roman said. “When I lost you at the harbor, I went back and called Chet, who called Bruce. He fired up their GPS system and began to search—not that I thought we’d find anything, but I thought maybe, hopefully, you know, Yanna’s pretty smart.” Roman flashed her a smile.

“Yeah. Too smart for our own good, sometimes.” But David pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Anyway, Chet and Bruce knew you were here in Taichung, so they hightailed it down here, and we were down at the wharf, eyes on Kwan’s yacht when his people called and said they’d picked up Yanna’s panic code. From here.”

David shot a glance at Bruce as Roman reached down and pulled Bruce to his feet. David stepped away from him, eyeing Bruce, who looked shaken, still rubbing his throat.

“Did you get Kwan?”

“Yeah, he’s in custody, and my people are searching the building.” Bruce’s voice came out hoarse, and David guessed he probably had some swelling. “We’ll take him back to headquarters, and then the fun starts. You…you can be there if you want.”

David looked him over, sorted through those words.
Translation—if I was the mole, would I risk letting Kwan rat me out, right in front of you?

“You need to see a doctor, probably,” David said. For the moment, that was the closest to an apology he could get.

Bruce gave a nod. Apology sort of accepted.

“Elena—”

“We found two rooms of women—you’re going to be sick when you see their ages. And at the loading dock, two empty containers, with bunk beds built in the sides,” Chet said.

“He was going to ship them in containers?” This from Yanna, who had stepped away from him, just a little, but not too far. Please, not too far.

“People—kids, men, women—they’re trafficked from all over the world, shipped to foreign countries where they’re trapped and helpless. Americans in Malaysia, Koreans in America. It’s a giant operation, and Kwan is just one of many. When he’s out of the picture, another slimeball will ooze into his place.” Bruce’s voice emerged hoarse, at best.

“You should know that there’s another one out there—another Kwan Jr. that Kwan’s grooming.”

Bruce nodded. “We know. But we have to take down one Serpent at a time.”

“I want to talk to Kwan,” David said.

“First, you’re going to the hospital,” Yanna said, moving to put her arm around him.

He looked down at her, those beautiful eyes trusting him. He had to keep his promise—the one he had made to himself. And to her. “No,” he said quietly. “First, I’m going to the airport. So you and Roman and Elena can go home.”

And she was expected to live without David, how? Especially after he’d nearly given up his life for her, something she felt sure she’d never have been able to live with.

Yanna closed her eyes, feeling the pressure crack her ears as the plane descended into Russian airspace, toward the landing strip in Khabarovsk. Elena sat beside her, a whitened grip on her hand that she hadn’t loosened since they’d stumbled out of Kwan’s basement dungeon and into the light.

She’d even hung on as David pulled Yanna into his arms one last time.

And right there, in front of Roman, who had most definitely been watching, based on his openmouthed grin as he’d escorted them through passport control, David had given her a kiss that told her he had heard,
really heard
her words to him.

You make me believe that God loves me.
She put her other hand over Elena’s, feeling her sister’s grip tremble slightly.

God had done this. He’d helped her find Elena. And saved David.

God, please help me to believe in You. To trust You.
As she thought the words, the knot that wound through her chest, the one she’d learned to live with, suddenly began to loosen. She felt it, even as she took a deep, tremulous breath.

Maybe this was what hope felt like.

She opened her eyes. Glanced at Roman, who sat across the aisle from her. Though he had his eyes closed, she didn’t for a second believe he was sleeping, but he did look at peace.

The same expression David had worn as he’d pressed his hand to the window that separated them from passport control. If it was the last thing she’d remember, it was the look of love in his incredible blue eyes, the way they shone, the way he stared at her, as if imprinting himself on her heart.

God, please, watch over him.

As she prayed, she looked out the window to the cirrus clouds scraping sky, and decided that was how she was expected to live without David.

With hope.

They touched down, a bumpy landing in Khabarovsk. A flight from America had come in just prior to theirs, and as she and Elena followed Roman through the military line of passport control, she couldn’t help but think of David. And wondered where he was, if he was mopping up the mess in Taiwan, and with the information he’d pry out of Kwan if he’d have to go back undercover to sleuth out the “other” Serpent, which meant she didn’t have a hope of seeing him in the near or even distant future.