Free Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth by Christopher Golden Page A

Jada said.
    Drake cocked an eyebrow. “You know we’re jumping to a lot of conclusions, right? Henriksen is chasing the same mystery Luka was working on, and it sure looks like Olivia’s been working behind her husband’s back, but none of this is proof that they killed him or sent those nice men with the guns after us.”
    Jada waved him to silence, focused on her phone call again.

    “Yes, I’m still here. That’s perfect, thanks.” She looked around and realized she had nothing to write with or on. “Actually, if you could do me one other small favor? Could you e-mail me that number? I know it’s probably not what you’re supposed to do, but—”
    She paused again, listening, and then smiled. “Even better. Thanks again.”
    Jada ended the call and slipped the phone into her pocket. “He’s just going to e-mail me the whole bill. Should’ve asked for that in the first place.” She glanced at Sully. “So now we know where to start when we get to Egypt—at the hotel where my father stayed. But how the hell are we going to get there?”
    “One step at a time,” Sully said as they turned north again, the vast Chelsea Piers complex in view up ahead. “First we get a boat.”
    “You’re just going to walk into the marina and take one?” she asked.
    Drake gave a small shrug. “Maybe not walk so much as skulk. Or slink. Possibly just a good old-fashioned sneak. What we lack in stealth we make up for in brazen stupidity and desperation.”
    “Come on,” Jada said, turning to Sully. “Is this really going to work?”
    Sully grinned his most rakish grin. “Seriously, kid. You don’t think we’ve never stolen a boat before?”
    Jada seemed to ponder that for a moment, then let out a breath. “Actually, after the past few hours, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
    Drake glanced at Sully. “You know, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”
    They stole the boat on a Tuesday just as the sun was going down. As they walked onto the dock, a guard eyed them warily, trying to figure out if they were trespassers. Drake took Jada’s hand and then turned and gave her a radiant smile, and she went right along with the charade, snuggling up against him. They were pretending, but it was a nice sort of make-believe, and Drake had to remind himself that the girl was Sully’s goddaughter.

    “Hey, there,” Sully said, sauntering up to the guard as if he belonged there.
    The guard frowned at Sully, taking in the bomber jacket over the guayabera and the neatly trimmed mustache, clearly wondering if this was somebody he was supposed to know. Sully drew him aside, lowering his voice so that only the guard could hear, but Drake knew the gist of what he was saying. They had discussed it moments before, and it was a ruse they’d used more than once.
    “Listen, amigo, here’s the deal. I’m working for Theresa Fonseca. I’m brokering the sale of some of the assets she’s received in her divorce settlement. I’ve got this couple on the hook, but they’re a little skittish because the divorce is turning ugly, and they’re looking for an excuse not to buy. They keep making noises about security down here, so what I need from you is to act like you’re busting my chops. Be a hardass—”
    The guard looked confused, glanced at Drake and Jada, and then shook his head. “I don’t know any Theresa—what was the name?”
    “Fonseca. She—”
    “Nah,” the guard said. “No Fonseca down here.”
    Sully turned to Drake and Jada and put his hands up in a see-what-I-mean gesture, as if trying to show them just how tight security was at the marina.
    “That’s good, man. Perfect,” Sully said.
    The guard narrowed his eyes. “I’m not playacting here, pal. There’s no one named Fonseca.”
    Sully bopped his palm against the side of his head. “Right, right. Divorce, remember? Crap, what’s the husband’s name? Starts with a K, I think. Keller? Kramer?”
    “Kurland?” the guard