Hunt the Lion

by Chad Zunker

  “We’re so glad to have you here,” Pastor Isaiah continued with Charlie, his voice filled with the same gentle warmth that had first embraced Sam ten years ago, when he’d been a listless sixteen-year-old street kid.

  Pastor Isaiah led them inside the home. Alisha had everything decorated to the nines, as usual, and Sam could smell something amazing brewing over in the kitchen. Sam hugged Alisha, who then also knelt in front of Charlie and introduced herself in a way that seemed to make the boy more at ease. Pastor Isaiah had suspected Charlie might warm more quickly to Alisha, considering the boy had had some major dysfunction with the male figures in his life.

  Pastor Isaiah’s three kids were also in the living room, looking prim and proper and ready to meet their new houseguest. The twin boys, Myles and Kevin, were the same age as Charlie, which Sam felt would be hugely beneficial. Grace was eight, and every bit the hostess, just like her mother. After Sam hugged each of them, Grace took Charlie by the hand and walked him down a hallway to show him his bedroom. The boys followed closely behind.

  “They’re all very excited,” Alisha told Sam.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” he said, looking at both of them.

  “We’re honored to do it, Sam,” Alisha reassured him.

  “After all, he’s family,” Pastor Isaiah added.

  Sam grinned, hugged them both again.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Alisha said. “I made your favorite.”

  She winked at him. Homemade lasagna. He’d breathed in the indescribable aroma the moment Pastor Isaiah had opened the front door. Sam could’ve eaten Alisha’s lasagna for every meal during the year he’d lived with them as a teenager. His stomach had actually begun craving it as soon as the plane had touched down at the Denver airport.

  “Yes, ma’am!” Sam replied, smiling wide.

  Alisha returned to the kitchen. Sam and Pastor Isaiah walked down the hallway to check in on the kids. Sam was pleased to see Charlie sitting on the carpet in the boys’ bedroom, all of them playing a fun board game together. They were already laughing about something. Charlie looked like he was having fun. Sam’s eyes grew wet at the sight. While it would be difficult to get back on a plane to DC without him, Charlie was in such good hands with this family. Sam’s family.

  Pastor Isaiah wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  They shuffled down the quiet sidewalk of the cozy neighborhood. There was so much Sam wanted to tell Pastor Isaiah—especially about his father—but he could share none of it with the man. Everything was classified, Barton had instructed. He was allowed to inform Pastor Isaiah he’d been involved with the CIA during the past month, so not everything was clouded in complete mystery. His mentor seemed to understand that Sam could only dance around certain topics.

  “How are you, Sam?” Pastor Isaiah asked, always getting to the heart.

  “I’m not sure, to be honest. Everything’s a bit of a blur right now.”

  “Seems that way. Are you and Natalie doing okay?”

  “Yes, I think. It’s complicated.”

  “She’s an amazing woman.”

  “More than I deserve.”

  “Well, you’ve become a remarkable man,” Pastor Isaiah added.

  “I appreciate that.”

  In the past, Sam would have quickly dismissed that comment. But Pastor Isaiah had worked so hard over the years to help him build renewed confidence in who he was because of the redemptive work God had done in Sam’s life.

  “So what do you think is next for you?” Pastor Isaiah asked. “Will you be continuing your work for David at the law firm?”

  Sam sighed. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I’ve been given a unique opportunity to be involved with something where I might be able to help some of the most vulnerable and desperate people on the planet.”

  “Sounds like a good fit for you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What’s the hesitation?”

  “Well, this type of work would likely place me deep in an underground world of sorts, if you know what I mean.”

  Pastor Isaiah looked over at him, seemed to register what Sam was implying. “I see. Would you have to keep it from Natalie?”

  “No, sir. I’ve been assured of that.”

  “Is it the kind of work you feel is suited to your God-given skills and experience?”

  “That’s the thing. It almost feels like everything I’ve been through in my life, all my past experiences, even the most painful ones, have led me to this moment. Is that possible? Does God even work that way?”

  Pastor Isaiah smiled. “That’s exactly how God works, Sam.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Two months later

  Sam stood on fresh-cut grass under a beautiful wooden arch that Natalie’s father had handcrafted for this very moment—his only daughter’s wedding day. There had never been a question about where Sam and Natalie would get married. Ever since she was a little girl, Natalie had dreamed of a backyard wedding at Foster Farms, her childhood home in Glendale, Missouri. Fifty of the most beautiful acres anywhere.

  Sam wore a simple black suit and black tie. Tommy stood next to him, donning a similar black suit and tie, and looking awkward as hell. Sam was so glad to have him there—although Sam had to ask Director Barton for help in finding Tommy and getting him news of the wedding. Tommy had given him a lot of grief about that. But Sam couldn’t have imagined this day without him.

  Sam peered out over the small crowd. Natalie’s expansive family and friends filled about fifty white chairs. All four brothers were there, along with their wives—each of whom stood up front and across the aisle from him—and more than a dozen of Natalie’s nephews and nieces. After today, Sam guessed they would also be his nephews and nieces. That realization blew him away. In a matter of minutes, Sam would go from a family of two, just him and Charlie, to a family of more than twenty.

  David Benoltz sat in the second row. Because their relationship was protected by legal privilege, Barton had allowed Sam to share almost everything with his boss. It felt good to come clean. David had taken such good care of him.

  Charlie sat in the front row, next to Alisha and her kids, wearing a cute little blue suit and bow tie. As expected, the boy had blossomed in his two short months with Pastor Isaiah’s family. Sam had spent a good amount of time flying back and forth from DC. He was fully committed to being a regular presence in the boy’s life.

  Sam winked and smiled at Charlie, who gave him the biggest grin back.

  A string quartet began playing over to his left. It made butterflies flutter in his stomach. It also brought on a small wave of sadness. There was one person who was not there that he’d have given just about anything to see sitting in the front row. His mother. She’d loved Natalie dearly. Barely a day went by when she hadn’t scolded Sam for not marrying Natalie immediately. She had, of course, been right all along. Reaching into his pants pocket, Sam put his fingers around the cross necklace she’d worn up until her very last breath. He could only hope that God would now part the clouds and allow his mother to take in this moment with him.

  “Go time,” Tommy whispered in his ear.

  Pastor Isaiah, wearing his usual sharp black suit and tie, stepped out from around a set of bushes in the back. Then he began a slow path down the grass aisle. Reaching the front, he gave Sam a subtle fist bump and a thousand-watt smile, then turned to face the expectant crowd. The moment had finally arrived.

  After taking a brief pause, the string quartet began playing the wedding march.

  When Natalie appeared, holding the arm of her sharp-dressed father, Sam felt a tear roll down his cheek. She looked as beautiful as ever in her mother’s classic wedding dress. Sam wasn’t the only one who’d had to grieve about a loved one who couldn’t be there to celebrate this day. They connected eyes. Sam felt another tear pop out. He quickly wiped it away. Natalie had warned him—no tears!—or she might also become a blubbering mess. But it was
too damn hard for him to stop. How could he not cry right now as he watched this woman pledge her life to him? This woman who had believed in him when no one else had. This woman who had brought so much healing into his life and had offered him so much undeserved grace. This woman who had already forgiven more than a lifetime should probably allow. This woman who had risked her own life, on more than one occasion, to try to save his. This woman was everything to him.

  Waiting to take her hand, Sam had never felt more sure about anything in his life.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Sam again checked the address on the crumpled piece of notepad paper in his hand. Looking up, he found the numbers on the side of the old brick building. This was the place. It sure as hell didn’t look like much. As instructed, he bypassed the building’s front entrance and instead stepped into an alley between two buildings. After circling a red metal dumpster, Sam found the gray unmarked door. On the outside wall right next to the door was a small black box.

  Sam lifted the lid off the box and noted the keypad inside.

  Taking a deep breath, he pressed in the numbers he’d been given.

  He heard the door click open.

  Pulling on the door handle, he stepped inside and found himself walking into a large open room with big digital screens along the outer walls. One of the screens was showing a global map. Desks filled the middle of the room, where a small group of people were working and carrying on. Sam immediately felt a certain energy coming from the room that appealed to him.

  He noticed a black woman in her sixties in a dark suit standing in the middle of it all. She had distinctive gray streaks in her hair and carried herself with a certain authority. After spotting Sam standing there, she set down a folder and walked straight over to him with the kind of smile that let him know she could be both friend and foe.

  “Good morning, Sam. Welcome to the Orphan Unit.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Readers, your enthusiasm inspires me to write every day. Thank you!

  I wouldn’t be here without the incredible support of Liz Pearsons, the best editor on the planet and such a delightful and caring person to work with every day, as well as the rest of my amazing publishing team at Thomas & Mercer. I’ve been blessed beyond measure to be part of the T&M family. Thank you!

  A big thanks to Bryon Quertermous, who is a master at seeing the holes in a manuscript and bringing my best story to the surface. Thanks, BQ!

  Thanks to David Hale Smith, a rock star of an agent and an all-around great guy. It’s been fun to travel these early roads with you, DHS. I really appreciate the way you keep steadily moving my career down the publishing tracks. We have even more exciting days ahead!

  I’m fortunate to have an unbelievably supportive group of family and friends who continue to encourage me at every turn. I’ve enjoyed taking this adventure with all of you. Your outpouring of emails, texts, and social media messages mean everything to me. Thank you!

  The most important support starts in my home. Anna, Madison, and Lexi, thank you for giving Daddy the space to write and proudly telling all your teachers about my books. I know you really want to read your father’s books soon—but let’s get out of elementary school first!

  This book, and all of my dreams, would not be possible without the tireless support of my incredible wife, Katie, who sacrifices so much every day and works so hard to make this all possible for our family. I wouldn’t want to be in the bunker with anyone else.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2017 Amy Melsa

  Chad Zunker studied journalism at the University of Texas, where he was also on the football team. He’s worked for some of the most powerful law firms in the country and has invented baby products that are now sold all over the world. He is the author of two previous Sam Callahan thrillers, The Tracker and Shadow Shepherd; lives in Austin with his wife, Katie, and their three daughters; and is hard at work on the next novel in the Sam Callahan series. For more on the author and his writing, visit www.chadzunker.com.