Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Daniel grabbed a pamphlet and skimmed through it, picking out what he could while wishing he could read French. It was a little overwhelming to walk through a place that was old, even by European standards. While Fontainebleau was the legacy of several centuries of French kings and queens, the amphitheater was a relic of an empire that had risen, conquered most of the known world, and then crumbled, leaving behind reminders of its former greatness.
They walked down the tunnel to the main floor of the theater. On one side, metal risers now covered the crumbling stones to protect them from both weather and tourists. They briefly paused in the cool shadows to duck down the few ancient corridors that remained under the stands. They would have been the holding cells for both the combatants as well as any animals that might be forced to fight.
A chill ran through Daniel as he placed his hand on one of the old stones, trying to imagine what it might have been like. A prisoner of the government, possibly captured in battle while trying to hold back the invading Roman horde, and now forced to fight for his life for the amusement of others.
“Daniel?”
His head snapped up at the worry in Edward’s voice. He forced a smile. “Sorry. Lost in thought wondering what it would have been like when this place was new.”
“That’s a happy thought,” Edward teased. “Next time we do this, we’ll plan the meeting for a beach.”
Daniel knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but it only reminded him that there wasn’t going to be a next time.
“Any sign that he’s here already?”
Edward shook his head and led the way to the main tunnel. “He could have driven overnight so that he could be here first, but I picked this spot because there are limited hiding places. I don’t think he has another accomplice that we have to worry about, but I wanted to be sure.”
Before stepping out into the sunlight in the center of the massive partial bowl formed by the amphitheater, Edward stopped. He frowned, staring down at the fine gravel that covered the ground. His hands were fisted at his sides and his broad shoulders looked painfully tense.
“Hey,” Daniel said, placing his hand on Edward’s arm. “What’s up?”
“I…I just wanted to say that I’ve had a great time with you. Probably the best time of my entire life. I…I just wanted you to know in case things go horribly wrong today, and I don’t get another chance to say it.”
“Well, you can just shove thoughts like that. Everything is going to go just fine, and you can tell me how awesome you think I am when this is all over.”
Daniel left Edward to gape at him as he walked into the center of the amphitheater and look up at the stands. Butterflies the size of eagles took flight in his stomach, ramming against the inside of his ribs. Anger at Edward’s words helped to keep the fear from showing, but it was still there.
Edward joined him a moment later, a smirk playing on his lips. Fuck, he’d forgotten to steal another kiss before they left the car. Was it too late? They’d kissed a couple of times in the hotel as he was getting ready, but it had been so damn early. His brain had been operating on autopilot. He hadn’t savored those last kisses like he should have.
Before he could grab Edward’s shirt and pull him close, the sound of someone else walking across the gravel drew his attention. They both turned toward the shadowy tunnel to see a man with dark-brown hair buzzed short and wrinkled tan skin striding toward them. His bearing was straight and tall.
It was only when the man stepped into the sunlight that Daniel recognized him. Edward had said the name Marcus Dillinger several times, but Daniel wasn’t great with names. Particularly with people he’d not seen in years. But he knew of Dillinger from his time at the FBI. Dillinger had served roughly two decades in the Army, making the rank of general, before shifting gears to the private sector and becoming a contractor in Washington. He served on several subcommittees for the House on defense before finally getting hired by the Defense Contract Management Agency.
Fuck. That would have given the man not only direct access to the country’s massive list of contractors, but also a look at countless other critical documents. He just prayed that the man’s plan to betray his country was a new one. Otherwise, he could have been selling vital information to foreign governments for years.
He wanted to shout at Marcus. To punch the asshole in the face. To rail at him for betraying his country and all the men and women who fought and died to keep their country safe.