13
Desomond walked around the back of the chair and cut through the cable tie. Jake massaged his wrists to get the circulation moving again and stood up to stretch.
Desomond sheepishly indicated Jake’s shirt, now covered with dust and dirty footprints from the beating. “I’m sorry about all this.”
Jake gingerly felt around his ribs. Not too much worse than before, but then he knew how to protect himself even on the ground. “It’s OK. Your guy clearly needed the practice.”
He thought of Frik back in the burning church on Macau. These amateurs were lucky that they picked on the right South African. “Can you call off the men looking for Morgan?”
A flash of concern crossed Desomond’s face. “Of course. Come. We’ll return to the synagogue. You should tell her to meet us back there.”
As soon
