Saturday. Beirut, Lebanon.
FAREZ'S HANDS SHOOK, and the gun felt as though it weighed a ton.
That was a close call. Far closer than he'd have liked. If it weren't for the others looking out for him, those men would have gotten the only leverage Farez had to make this deal.
The cellar smelled of earth and spices. The small lantern didn't reach the far corners of the room.
Maier straightened. "I don't hear anything."
"Your wife might have saved us," Farez muttered.
Maier chuckled. "She saves me every day."
Jared Moss sat down on the hard packed floor, speaking in English, "I am never going to complain about a hotel ever again."
Farez glanced at Maier. The other man didn't speak English. Farez had learned it as a young man working on sail boats, doing tours on cruise ships when he was
