Ryan Quinn and the Lion's Claw

by Ron McGee

  “So they just get shipped off?”

  “This is how it is in Lovanda.” Malik stuffed another bite into his mouth. “I think you have bad luck, too.”

  “Yeah. I seem to have a lot of it lately.” Ryan finished the last bite of his stew, noticing how many stares he was getting. Some were simply curious, but others were hostile and suspicious. A group of bigger guys were looking in his direction and whispering to one another.

  Malik noticed them, too, his expression darkening. “I am afraid more bad luck is coming.”

  Having moved to so many new places in his life, Ryan was used to being a stranger. He knew how it worked. Most kids just ignored you, maybe a few were friendly. And there were always losers who wanted to challenge you, to show how tough they were. But if he was going to find a way out of this place—and that’s exactly what he planned to do—he needed allies, not enemies.

  Glancing around, he had a sudden inspiration about how he might accomplish that.

  After wolfing down their lunch, most of the workers were finding ways to relax. A few had closed their eyes to take a short nap. Some sat talking quietly. Others gathered in small groups using the rocks for makeshift mancala games. But Ryan’s attention was on a kid who was shuffling a deck of playing cards and preparing to deal.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw one of the bigger guys stand and move aggressively toward him. Ryan jumped up and went over to the kid with the cards. He squatted next to him, intentionally putting his back to the big guy.

  “Sorry to bother you guys,” Ryan said, putting on his friendliest smile. “Want to see something kind of cool?”

  Clearly, none of them spoke English because they all just stared at him in confusion. Ryan pointed to the cards, then held up one finger, asking them to let him borrow them for one minute. He could feel the big guy looming behind him. Hesitantly, the kid handed over the deck. The cards were beat-up and torn, but they’d work fine.

  With a flourish, Ryan shuffled the deck three times, faster than the eye could follow. Then he spread his hands apart and flicked the entire deck through the air card by card. They formed a blurry arc as they flipped from one hand to the other.

  That got everyone’s attention.

  Since he was little, Ryan had practiced sleight of hand with playing cards. He had become so adept, he could make it seem like the cards were practically dancing in his fingers. It was a form of meditation for him, keeping his body busy so his mind could roam free when he was puzzling over something. But the skill also came in handy in other ways.

  Murmurs of appreciation went up from those watching as Ryan whipped the cards into a perfect fan, then closed the deck once more. He tossed it behind his back and over his shoulder, catching it effortlessly without looking. Using only the fingers of his right hand, Ryan separated the cards into groups, flipping them one over the other in a dizzying display that almost seemed to defy physics.

  Quick as a flash, he reached out toward one of the kids and pretended to pull a card from his ear! Everyone’s eyes went wide with surprise as they laughed. More workers moved over, wanting to see. Behind him, Ryan could sense that the big guy who’d been advancing on him was just as fascinated as the others.

  For the next few minutes, Ryan performed every card trick he knew. He got claps and cheers as the crowd circled him. When the air horn finally sounded again, he squared the deck up and handed it back to the kid he’d borrowed it from.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Ryan felt a powerful hand hit him in the back. He turned to see the big guy right behind him. But he was grinning now. He slapped Ryan once more in approval, then headed off.

  As everyone trudged back to work in the mineshafts, there was laughter and animated conversation. The workers didn’t look at Ryan with suspicion anymore but with appreciation. Anyone who brought a little light to this miserable place was welcome.

  Malik stepped past Ryan, picking up his axe once more. “I think maybe you know how to make your own luck.”

  Ryan was glad to have avoided a fight. But as he began scooping up another shovelful of rock, he knew it was going to take more than luck to get him out of here.

  CHAPTER

  32

  NEW YORK,

  USA

  Kasey grabbed a yogurt and the orange juice from the refrigerator. It was a cold and gray morning, which perfectly matched her mood. She had planned on meeting her friends Emily and Janelle this afternoon to hang out, but really didn’t feel like going. Winter break was usually a time to relax and have fun, but Kasey couldn’t stop worrying about Ryan and Danny.

  After getting home yesterday, she’d tried to learn as much as possible about Braxton Crisp. Not that there was much to find. The antique weapons dealer kept a low profile. There was a short profile about him on the store’s website: Crisp was born in Massachusetts, was the son of a watchmaker, and had degrees from both Yale and Oxford. His shop had been in existence for just over ten years. Kasey searched for hours but couldn’t find any more information about what he’d been doing between getting his degrees and starting his antique arms business. It was like Crisp just disappeared for nearly twenty years.

  Jacqueline had been upset that Kasey went into the antiques shop on her own. She had clearly regretted her decision to let Kasey help. When they got back to the brownstone, Jacqueline insisted that Kasey go home.

  “But I got Braxton Crisp’s name,” Kasey countered. “He never suspected a thing.”

  “And it may turn out to be an important break for us,” Jacqueline said. “This has nothing to do with your abilities. I think you’re an incredibly smart and resourceful young woman.”

  Kasey was surprised at how much Jacqueline’s words meant to her. “Then let me stay.”

  “I’m sorry. I appreciate all you’ve done, but it has to stop now.”

  That had been the end of the discussion. Kasey tried to argue, but Jacqueline was unwavering. Kasey finally gave up and left. She felt strangely disappointed. Not just because she couldn’t help the ERC, but because she enjoyed spending time with Jacqueline.

  Kasey loved her dad deeply, but that didn’t stop her from missing her mother. Mom passed away when Kasey was young, so Kasey mostly knew her from old photos and videos. Her father and brothers were great, but she often wondered what life would have been like if her mother had lived.

  Spending time with Jacqueline felt a little like being with a mom. The hours they spent trailing Tasha had been awkward at first. But as time passed, they started talking. Not about anything important, just about school and the holidays. It had been nice, and Kasey was sorry to see it end.

  “Did you finish all the orange juice?”

  Kasey was surprised to see Drew at the refrigerator. She hadn’t noticed him come into the kitchen. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  “Then put it on the list.” He closed the refrigerator and wrote “OJ” on the magnetized grocery list. Drew opened a bag of bagels, looking at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Drew could be exasperating, but he somehow always knew when anything was bothering his little sister.

  “Did Ryan do something?” His tone was instantly confrontational, ready to protect Kasey from the world.

  “No. And Ryan and I are just friends, anyway.”

  “Right.” He put the bagel into the toaster and pressed the handle down. “So what is it then?”

  Kasey swirled the spoon around in her yogurt for a few seconds, then admitted, “I was just thinking about Mom.”

  Drew sat beside her at the breakfast table. “You remember much about her?”

  “Not really. But sometimes I wonder what it’d be like with her still here.”

  “You definitely wouldn’t be able to run around on your own as much as you do. Mom worried about everything. Dad’s a lot more chill.”

  “Do you think we’d be totally different people if she was still here?”

  Drew actually took a moment to consider before he re
sponded. “Maybe not totally different. But a little, yeah. I think we are who we are because of what’s happened to us. We wouldn’t necessarily be better or worse. Just different.”

  That seemed exactly right to Kasey. Sometimes, people assumed Drew was dumb because he was a jock. Kasey thought he did it on purpose, not letting his friends see how smart he really was. At home, though, Drew was more himself and that was when she liked him best.

  Her phone buzzed and Kasey glanced down, hoping it might be Jacqueline with some news. When she saw Danny’s face on the Caller ID screen, she snatched it up and stood.

  “I gotta take this.”

  Drew didn’t miss a beat. “You gonna finish that orange juice?”

  “All yours.” Kasey hurried to her room, answering the call. “Danny?”

  “Yeah, it’s me—”

  “Are you okay? Is Ryan with you? Where are you? Oh my god, what were you guys thinking!”

  “Wow. And I thought I was stressed out.” Danny’s voice sounded like it was just around the corner, not halfway around the globe. “I’m fine, but Ryan’s in trouble. His dad’s on his way to try and rescue him.”

  “To rescue Ryan? But you guys were supposed to be rescuing Lawrence and Nadia.”

  “We did, but things got complicated. Listen, I managed to hack into the phone carrier here, but they can trace me if I stay on too long. I just wanted to make sure you knew Ryan’s dad found us. He’s making me take a plane home tonight.”

  “Where are you?”

  Talking fast, he updated her on getting Lawrence and Nadia out of Madame Buku’s compound and the backdoor he hacked into her computer network, which had revealed where Ryan was being held.

  “Wait a second,” Kasey interrupted, glancing down at the information she’d printed out about Braxton Crisp. “You hacked into Madame Buku’s network?”

  “It wasn’t hard once we were inside her place.”

  Kasey’s wheels were spinning. In her searches, she hadn’t discovered any useful intelligence on Braxton Crisp. But one thing she did know is that he was greedy. Which gave her an idea, a way they could hurt Crisp where it mattered to him the most.

  “Do you still have access to a computer?” she asked Danny.

  “Yeah, until I leave for the airport.”

  “Good. I need you to do something for me.”

  CHAPTER

  33

  MOUNT SATORI,

  LOVANDA, AFRICA

  This was starting to feel like a terrible mistake. Volunteering to sneak into the mine had seemed like the only option back in the safety of Jaz’s apartment. But out here in the dark, Lawrence was having serious doubts. He stayed close to John Quinn as they made their way up the overgrown path. But the closer they got, the more Lawrence felt the urge to turn and run.

  The truth was, he had been running ever since leaving Lovanda. Lawrence had tried to settle into an ordinary life in America. He put on a suit he hated and a tie that choked him. But it never felt right. He was always uncomfortable, looking over his shoulder like someone was chasing him. Nervous. Fearful. He didn’t even recognize the man he had become.

  “Stop,” John whispered. He knelt low, motioning Lawrence to do the same.

  Up ahead, a ten-foot-tall chain-link fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the mine. A guard patrolled inside, casually checking the perimeter. Despite having a submachine gun slung over his shoulder, he looked bored. Lawrence held his breath until the man wandered back into the shadows.

  “There.” John pointed to an area where the fencing butted up against the mountainside. “I have bolt cutters to get through the chain link. You’ll have to be careful of passing guards.”

  “Okay.” Lawrence couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice.

  “I know you’re scared. If you want to stop now, no one will blame you.”

  No one but myself, Lawrence thought. “I can do it. I have a much better shot at getting around unnoticed and finding Ryan than you.”

  “Then let’s move while we have the chance.”

  John made a beeline for the spot. He wore a backpack, which he pulled off as he crouched beside the fence. Reaching inside, he produced bolt cutters. Working quietly and efficiently, he snipped sections of chain link to create an opening. When he was done, he replaced the bolt cutters in the pack and pulled out a thin tin can. The label on top read Salerno Sardines.

  “No, thanks,” Lawrence said, not hiding his distaste. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Good. ’Cause you don’t want to eat these.” John handed him the sardine tin, then held up a small remote control like the ones used to open car doors. “That tin is packed with plastic explosive. Just enough for a small explosion. Once you find Ryan, place this wherever it can cause the biggest distraction. This remote detonates it.”

  Lawrence took the remote nervously. “You’re sure it won’t accidentally go off?”

  “It’s perfectly safe until you trigger it. You have to hit all three buttons at one time to set off the charge. The moment you do, get back here as fast you can. I’ll be waiting to get you both out.”

  Lawrence slipped the sardine can into his pocket. “All three buttons at once. Got it.”

  John put a hand on his shoulder. “You can do this.”

  Lawrence took a deep breath, gaining confidence from John’s reassuring tone. Then he nodded—he was ready.

  John pulled back the fencing, and Lawrence slipped inside. They had studied the satellite map images and chosen this side of the mine complex because there were a few buildings that housed equipment and machinery here. It would be empty at night.

  Lawrence ran through the shadows, keeping close to the buildings. He leaned against walls and peered around corners, checking for guards. Dressed in shabby, dirty clothes, Lawrence would fit in once he found the workers. But if the guards spotted him now, they’d assume he was trying to escape and would shoot him.

  Slowly, he made his way across the complex. He could see the brighter lights of the barracks area and used them as his guide. As he got closer, Lawrence heard voices and music. It sounded like the homemade instruments Lawrence played in his village growing up.

  Lawrence was so distracted by the music that he almost walked right into the back of a guard. At the last moment, he saw the man a few feet ahead and froze. The guard was looking the other way, swaying back and forth. He seemed to be enjoying the music as well.

  Backtracking carefully, Lawrence changed course and skirted around the outside edge of one of the barracks. The chattering of men and boys became more distinct. He followed the sound. Slipping between two of the buildings, he emerged into a huge courtyard filled with activity.

  The barracks formed a ring around this common area. In the center, a large bonfire burned brightly as people talked, played games, and sang songs. Lawrence guessed there must be almost a hundred young men and boys here. It felt like a school at recess.

  Lawrence was mesmerized for a moment. He’d expected everyone to appear broken and despondent. But somehow, they were finding moments of pleasure even in these horrible conditions. He felt an unexpected sense of pride in his countrymen.

  He noticed one of the teenage boys staring at him. Lawrence turned his focus back to the mission. Moving into the crowd, he put his hands inside his pockets, reassuring himself that the tin of explosives and the remote were still there.

  Weaving in and out of the assorted groups, Lawrence crossed the common area. As he passed the musicians, banging on homemade djembe drums and shaking their shekeres, he was reminded of countless nights making music with his friends. Glancing back, he discovered that the teenager who had stared at him was now following from a distance.

  Lawrence tried to appear relaxed as he picked up his pace. There were so many faces. But no sign of Ryan. He turned and saw that two other young men had joined the teenager. They were shortening the distance, closing in.

  Lawrence sidestepped through a group, trying to lose them. How had they figured out so q
uickly that he didn’t belong here? After five years in America, did he really stick out that much?

  He suddenly stopped, turning back to a small group he had just passed. Ryan’s face was so caked with dirt and grime that Lawrence had almost missed him.

  “Ryan!”

  Ryan looked over in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m with your dad. We’re getting you out.”

  Instead of being excited, Ryan appeared concerned as he gazed over Lawrence’s shoulder. Lawrence turned to find the guys on his tail were now right behind him. And there were more of them—at least ten, gathered in a pack. All staring at him.

  Ryan stepped forward, tensing for a fight. But then the teenager who first followed Lawrence broke into a smile.

  “I knew it—it is you!” He turned to the others. “Anbo! Anbo has returned!”

  Before Lawrence knew what was happening, he was swarmed. These guys weren’t threatening him. They were enthusiastic fans, cheering and clapping and welcoming him home.

  CHAPTER

  34

  MOUNT SATORI,

  LOVANDA, AFRICA

  Ryan hung back at the edge of the crowd. As news of Anbo’s arrival spread among the workers, almost everyone migrated over. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of Lawrence, lit by the flickering flames of the bonfire. He seemed overcome, unsure how to handle the reception he was getting.

  Malik stepped up beside Ryan. “You are full of surprises.”

  “They really love him, don’t they?” Ryan had noted the crowd’s passionate reaction when he watched the video of Anbo and Delilah performing. Seeing their devotion up close was different. These young men viewed Lawrence as a long-lost hero returned.

  “Anbo and Delilah were much more than singers. They gave us a voice. Their music helped us believe it might be possible for things in our country to change. I know all of their songs by heart—we all do.” Malik watched Lawrence through the crowd. “I was fourteen when Anbo and Delilah were arrested. When they were sentenced to death, we were devastated. It felt like our government was killing a part of each of us.”