by DiAnn Mills
Praise for DiAnn Mills
Burden of Proof
“DiAnn Mills never disappoints. From characters to fall in love with to those who need to be behind bars, this story is one that will tug on every emotion and wring you dry—while making you love every minute. Put on a fresh pot of coffee before you start this one because you’re not going to want to sleep until the suspense ride is over. You might want to grab a safety harness while you’re at it—you’re going to need it!”
Lynette Eason, bestselling, award-winning author of the Elite Guardians and Blue Justice series
“In Burden of Proof, DiAnn Mills pairs a traumatized FBI agent with a desperate father to create a suspense-packed story that will keep readers captivated until the very last page.”
Nancy Mehl, author of the Defenders of Justice series
“DiAnn Mills has raised the bar for romantic suspense yet again. Burden of Proof will hover in your mind until you finish it and are sad there is no more. Good thing she continues to write such powerful novels.”
Lauraine Snelling, author of the Under Northern Lights series
High Treason
“In this third book in Mills’s action-packed FBI Task Force series, the stakes are higher than ever. Compelling characters and a riveting plot that fits seamlessly with current events make this novel impossible to put down. Readers can count on being glued to the pages late into the night—as ‘just one more chapter’ turns into ‘can’t stop now.’”
Romantic Times
“Mills has brought cultural and spiritual differences to life. Her characters, along with their real-life struggles, will bring an instant connection to readers. Her expertise in story development guarantees High Treason will end up as a favorite.”
Christian Market magazine
“This suspenseful novel will appeal to Christian readers looking for a tidy, uplifting tale.”
Publishers Weekly
“The action-packed, romantic suspense includes the FBI, the CIA, a Saudi prince, and foreign intrigue wrapped in a mystery that keeps readers guessing until the last page is turned. . . . Fans of clean read suspense, without explicit sexual content and bad language, will enjoy the romantic chemistry, the suspense, and the conclusion.”
Midwest Book Review
Deep Extraction
“A harrowing police procedural [that] . . . Mills’s many fans will devour.”
Library Journal
“Few characters in Mills’s latest novel are who they appear to be at first glance. . . . Combined with intense action and stunning twists, this search for the truth keeps readers on the edges of their favorite reading chairs. . . . The crime is tightly plotted, and the message of faith is authentic and sincere.”
Romantic Times, 4½ star review, Top Pick
Deadly Encounter
“Crackling dialogue and heart-stopping plotlines are the hallmarks of Mills’s thrillers, and this series launch won’t disappoint her many fans. Dealing with issues of murder, domestic terrorism, and airport security, it eerily echoes current events.”
Library Journal
“[Mills] has the ability to sweep you off your feet and into the middle of an adventure in a matter of paragraphs. . . . If you are looking for a little bit of action, romance, intrigue, and domestic terrorism (and a happily ever after!), then this is the book for you.”
Radiant Lit
“Fans of clean romantic suspense will enjoy this well-plotted winner.”
Publishers Weekly
“From the first paragraph until the last, this story is a nail-biter, promising to delight readers who enjoy a well-written adventure.”
Christian Market magazine
“Steady pacing and solid characterization make this latest from DiAnn Mills a sure favorite among FBI procedural fans. . . . The well-crafted case takes several twists and turns along the way and keeps the pace and tension high.”
Romantic Times
Deadlock
“DiAnn Mills brings us another magnificent, inspirational thriller in her FBI: Houston series. Deadlock is a riveting, fast-paced adventure that will hold you captive from the opening pages to the closing epilogue.”
Fresh Fiction
“Mills’s newest installment in the FBI: Houston series will keep readers on the edge of their seats. For those who love a good ‘who-done-it,’ Deadlock delivers.”
CBA Retailers + Resources
“Mills does a superb job building the relationship between the two polar opposite detectives. With some faith overtones, Deadlock is an excellent police drama that even mainstream readers would enjoy.”
Romantic Times
Double Cross
“DiAnn Mills always gives us a good thriller, filled with inspirational thoughts, and Double Cross is another great one!”
Fresh Fiction
“Tension explodes at every corner within these pages. . . . Mills’s writing is transparently crisp, backed up with solid research, filled with believable characters and sparks of romantic chemistry.”
Novelcrossing.com
“For the romantic suspense fan, there is plenty of action and twists present. For the inspirational reader, the faith elements fit nicely into the context of the story. . . . The romance is tenderly beautiful, and the ending bittersweet.”
Romantic Times
Firewall
“Mills takes readers on an explosive ride. . . . A story as romantic as it is exciting, Firewall will appeal to fans of Dee Henderson’s romantic suspense stories.”
Booklist
“With an intricate plot involving domestic terrorism that could have been ripped from the headlines, Mills’s romantic thriller makes for compelling reading.”
Library Journal
“A fast-moving, intricately plotted thriller.”
Publishers Weekly
“Mills once again demonstrates her spectacular writing skills in her latest action-packed work. . . . The story moves at a fast pace that will keep readers riveted until the climactic end.”
Romantic Times
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Long Walk Home
Copyright © 2005, 2019 by DiAnn Mills. All rights reserved.
Previously published in 2005 as When the Lion Roars by David C Cook Publishing Co. under ISBN 978-1589190306.
Cover photograph of dusty road copyright © Sergey Pesterev/Unsplash.com. All rights reserved.
Designed by Dean H. Renninger
Published in association with the literary agency of Books & Such Literary Management, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
The Scripture quotation in chapter 24 is taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.
Long Walk Home is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Repackage first published in 2019 under ISBNs 978-1-4964-3324-4 (Kindle); 978-1-4964-3326-8 (Apple); 978-1-4964-3325-1 (ePub)
Build: 2019-05-29 16:15:33 EPUB 3.0
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the many people who made this book possible, those who prayed for me and provided insight into the decades-long civil war in Sudan:
Frank Blackwood, director of Aid Sudan, for his knowledge of and love for the Sudanese; Jack Casey, who “showed”
me how to fly an MU-2; Abraham Nhial, for revealing his life as a Lost Boy of Sudan and rising victoriously above it; James Okuk Solomon, who shared the tragedy of his murdered family; my critique group, which kept me from straying from the story; Eric Reeves, for his commitment to Sudan; Beau Egert, for his unique perspective on the civil war; and my dear husband, Dean, for his love, prayers, and encouragement.
Most of all, I thank my Savior and Lord Jesus Christ, who gave His life for me—and you.
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
Over a decade ago, I visited Juba, in southern Sudan, to research this novel. While I had dreams of encouraging the people in their struggle for freedom and commending their bravery in the face of oppression, something quite different happened. I fell in love with the Sudanese people.
Through interviews and listening to stories, I sensed their incredible faith. We laughed, cried, and even faced danger. I learned to rely on “Jesus is enough.” My two-story home and double-car garage, my full pantry, health insurance, church, and freedoms I took for granted took on new meaning. I was convicted of my selfishness, and my spirit weighed what was essential to life. Did I understand “Jesus is enough” through the eyes of someone who’d lost his family in the fighting, limped without a leg, or lost loved ones to disease? I wanted good things for the Sudanese, but more importantly I wanted them to experience the peace of their children walking the roads of their homeland without fear.
Long Walk Home is a snapshot of how three people from separate cultures faced the realities of southern Sudan. I shed many tears in the writing process, and I imagine you will too as you read it. Don’t forget the Sudanese. They need our prayers and our support.
Thank you, my friends.
DiAnn
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
2 CORINTHIANS 4:8–9
Contents
Acknowledgments
A Note from the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Preview of Fatal Strike
Preview of Burden of Proof
Discussion Questions
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
WARKOU, ALONG THE LOL RIVER IN SOUTHERN SUDAN
2003
Paul Farid drew in a breath and held it, the magnificence of the unfolding springtime terrain filling his senses. Captivated by the lush earth below him, he scanned the area for signs of government soldiers who might have his plane in their sights. He could see for miles across the vast southern Sudan. Herds of gazelle, antelope, and zebra, along with an occasional lion, dotted the plain—some finding shelter from the scorching sun beneath a lone tree while others raced aimlessly about. Birds scattered in a rush of flapping wings, rising above the tall grass into a cloud and soaring gracefully across the sky until they found another spot to roost. A tingling fluttered in Paul’s stomach. The sensation greeted him every time he flew over Sudan. The mystery and splendor lured him in, like an intoxicating spell that refused to let him go. He was the intruder, the only one who had not dwelt among the southern Sudanese for centuries.
Paul did not intend to lose his Mitsubishi MU-2—a twin-engine turboprop aircraft, the missionary cream of the crop—to any Muslim bent on destroying or confiscating food and medical supplies targeted for the needy civilians. Sometimes Feed the World (FTW) had permission from the government in Khartoum to deliver provisions to the starving masses caught in the civil war strife, but not today. Despite the danger, Paul was bringing much-needed aid to the village of Warkou in the province of Bahr al-Ghazal. It lay along the Lol River in a setting so breathtaking that it rivaled man’s thoughts of paradise. He had committed to help those affected by the government’s genocide in this beautiful but turbulent land.
The countryside looked peaceful, serene, as though untouched by the forces that could erupt at any moment into an explosion of violence and mayhem aimed at the innocent. Not far to the east, the White Nile snaked through Sudan. Some called the river the lifeblood of the country. Others claimed the waterway as the entrance to Eden. To the inhabitants, it served as a symbol of hope.
Just to the west of the plane, a worn path would serve as Paul’s landing strip. A few cows and goats ambled in the middle until the noise of the jet engine seized their attention. At the sound of the aircraft’s high-pitched screams, the animals scrambled.
Paul focused his attention beyond the makeshift landing strip and noted the grass huts of Warkou, which meant “bend of the river.” He peered closer to view the several craters below. How many had been killed or wounded in the latest bombing? Not a single person roamed beneath him. When the distinct hum of a plane alerted the villagers, they ran for bomb shelters. He didn’t blame them. They had learned to keep their mouths open so as not to damage their ears from the concussion of the bombs and to run for shelter when the bombing and shooting started, but many still became casualties. Nothing saved their churches, schools, and medical clinics. The bombs were crude—metal drums filled with explosives and metal—designed to inflict maximum death and destruction.
With the area cleared before him, Paul put down the flaps and cruised over the rough landing strip. He studied the area in all directions for debris and ruts along the dirt path, taking special note of blowing dust to calculate the direction of the wind. He laughed at three cows headed in different directions from the incoming plane. The following moment, he circled the area and repeated his inspection.
Certain of flying into the wind, he snatched up his landing checklist with his left hand and gripped the control wheel. With both feet on the rudders, Paul used his right hand to quickly flip switches and levers in a steady, organized flow. Once completed, he ran through the checklist, then replaced it in a tight, upper-left-hand corner until needed again. No matter how experienced the pilot, one little mistake could make the difference between a safe landing and tragedy.
“Here we go.” Adrenaline raced through Paul’s veins. He loved flying, but he loved his mission and the God who had called him to serve the southern Sudanese more. The cost did not matter, only the purpose.
At the beginning of the runway, he placed the landing gear switch in the down position. The speed of his plane decreased and created tremendous wind noise inside the aircraft. He lowered the airspeed to 130 knots, then to 110, using the precision necessary for a smooth, safe landing. When the wheels touched down, dirt and dust flew everywhere, alerting the countryside to his presence. If the Government of Sudan soldiers were in the area, they now had no doubt of his location.
Once the engine ceased its earsplitting hum, Paul double-checked his procedures before climbing from the cockpit and taking shelter under one of the wings. He wiped his forehead, already beaded with sweat.
“Hello,” he called to the still-unseen villagers. He knew they understood Arabic. “I have food and medical supplies from Feed the World.” His gaze swept over every hut and tree in the area, knowing those who hid among them could hear every word but were afraid to show their faces. He would be fearful too. “I need to speak to Dr. Larson Kerr.”
From behind a hut an elderly man appeared, then three more men and two women. Slowly more people crept forward with mothers and children lagging behind.
“Greetings from Feed the World.” He waved, grinning. “Is Dr. Kerr available?”
“Yes, I’m here.” A woman stepped from the group. Shorter than the towering Dinkas, she had a ruddy complexion and thick mass of sandy-colored hair, worn in a ponytail, that immediately set her apart from the ebony-skinned, dark-haired villagers native to this land.
Larson Kerr is a woman?
He’d heard tales about the doctor’s tenacious ability to work incredibly long hours and travel to remote areas in the name of healing. Dr. Kerr also ventured into the oil-rich regions to aid the injured and help the victims caught in the cross fire of war to reach safety. He had skimmed documentaries of how the doctor was the first to climb from the bomb shelters to seek out the wounded. The words flooded his memory. As he gazed into her impassive face, respect and admiration sealed his thoughts.
Dressed in khaki shorts, a faded T-shirt with the logo of Ohio State, and hiking boots, she walked toward him with long, purposeful strides. In the States he would have been amused at her pace, but not here. Here he understood what drove her.
Her calloused hand reached to grab his. “Paul Farid?” she asked in an American accent. “You have the supplies?” Her striking blue eyes bored into his. They were not the least bit friendly—instead suspicious, challenging.
“Yes.” He’d seen and felt the animosity before. In this part of Sudan, his Arab nationality and surname labeled him the enemy before he opened his mouth.
“You’re an American?”
He nodded.
“Then you speak English?”
“Yes,” he said in the requested language. He experienced a mixture of awe and curiosity about the noted Dr. Kerr.
