Spy for Hire Read Online Free Page A

“Hand yours over.”
    After confirming that the younger man was also a Saudi, and taking a photo of his driver’s license, Mark walked back to the Camry and pulled open the rear door. Sitting behind the passenger seat was a boy Mark guessed was about two years old. His black curly hair was in need of a trim, and his dark brown eyes were wide with fear. A seat belt was tight around his waist.
    The boy wouldn’t look at him.
    Mark searched his limited knowledge of Arabic. He settled on
sadiq
, which meant
friend
. He pointed at himself as he said it.
    “Don’t you dare touch that boy!” called out the Saudi that Mark had shot. “You know not what you do.”
    Mark had a bad feeling about this. But he’d promised Daria. “Who is he? Why did you take him?”
    “He is my nephew. He comes from a powerful family. He was kidnapped.”
    “From Saudi Arabia?”
    “That is not your business.”
    “What family?”
    “That is not your business either. But I can tell you I am here on behalf of the boy’s family.”
    Mark sighed. “You can’t just steal a child from an orphanage.”
    “We only stole what was stolen from us.”
    “If he really is your nephew, and he really has been kidnapped, then you need to go back to the orphanage, apologize, file the appropriate paperwork, and wait for things to get sorted out. That’s the way it’s done, even in Kyrgyzstan.”
    Mark turned back to the car and unlocked the boy’s seat belt, causing the boy to flinch. Mark extended his hand. When thechild didn’t respond, Mark leaned inside, wrapped his left arm—the one that wasn’t occupied with the rifle—underneath the boy’s armpits, and gently lifted the child to his chest.
    As he walked back to his Mercedes, the boy began to cry and squirm. Not a good situation, thought Mark. Not a good situation at all. He saw the boy turn and look back toward the Saudis. Screw it, thought Mark. Regardless of what he’d promised Daria, he was going to let the kid decide.
    He put the boy down on the ground and stroked the child’s head while keeping the rifle pointed in the direction of the Saudis.
    “Hey buddy, I’m not going to hurt you. We’ll sort this all out.” Mark spoke Kyrgyz because he didn’t know how to console the boy in Arabic. “If you want to stay with these men, you can.” Turning to the Saudis, Mark said, “Talk to him. If you guys are his family and I think he wants to go with you, I’ll let him.”
    Though Mark was no longer holding the boy, the child made no move to approach the Saudis. Instead, he stood there crying, looking more desperate and scared than ever.
    The Saudi with the shot foot called out to the boy in a soothing voice. Mark couldn’t understand what was said, but the boy didn’t appear to be persuaded. If anything, he leaned in closer to Mark. Then the Saudi spoke more rapidly in Arabic. The boy remained unconvinced. When the Saudi’s tone grew harsh, prompting the boy to cry even harder, Mark leaned down, picked the kid back up, and walked to his Mercedes.
    Before setting the boy down in the car, Mark opened the trunk. Inside was a first aid kit that Daria had bought him a few months ago. She’d put it in his trunk along with a wool blanket and a spare flashlight. Mark, while appreciating the kindhearted gesture, had thought it a little overkill. The hunting rifle was the only emergency item he’d packed.
    Now, however, he was glad for the first aid kit. He dropped it to the ground.
    “Stay down until I’m out of sight.” Looking at the Saudi with the shot foot, he said, “When you do get up, you’ll find some bandages in this kit. I’m going to take the child now, but if you really are here on behalf of his family, I suggest you make your case to the orphanage. The people who run it won’t know where I am, but I’ll check in with them. If you’re telling the truth, then I’ll make arrangements for a
legal
transfer.”

5

    “It was Holtz!” said Daria. She called as Mark was