Chasing the White Lion by James Hannibal (mind reading books .TXT) 📕

tumbled down a hill into a larger clearing.

Thet Ye groaned, sitting up. “Now look what you’ve—” He stopped. Hla Meh’s eyes had grown wide with fear, staring at something behind him. He turned.

Three men wearing the camouflage uniforms of soldiers glared back at the children—two a little younger than Thet Ye’s father and one teenager. The teenager had been digging. The shorter of the two older men took a menacing step toward Thet Ye and his friend. He reached for them with a grubby, burn-scarred hand.

CHAPTER

FOUR

BAN DOI HENGA REFUGEE CAMP

THAI/BURMA BORDER

MAE HONG SON PROVINCE, THAILAND

THESOLDIERLIFTED THET YETOHISFEET and dusted him off. “That was quite a tumble.” The instant he spoke, his uniform and the burn scars on his hands became less frightening. Many grown-ups and teens at Ban Doi Henga had similar marks. A great fire had burned the camp on the night Thet Ye was born. It was the reason for his name—Brave Life. His mother always said he’d come out to brave the fire instead of hiding.

But these soldiers were not from the camp.

When the short soldier tried to help Hla Meh to her feet, she scrambled back. He looked at her hard, then the hardness evaporated, and he smiled. “Where are your teachers, little ones?”

Behind him, the other soldier barked an order at the teen, and the boy continued his work. This sparked Thet Ye’s interest. “What are you digging for? Are you looking for treasure?”

The soldier’s face turned serious. “Landmines. And that is why this area is off-limits. This jungle is a war zone.”

Thet Ye knew that well. His parents had been driven into Thailand because of that war, the same as Hla Meh and her mother.

“Do your teachers know you are here?”

Thet Ye shook his head.

“I see. Well, that is a big problem.”

“It is?”

The man looked past them through the trees. “You attend the new school in the camp, yes?”

Thet Ye nodded.

“Your teachers are responsible for your safety, even before the school day begins. If the government finds out they let you wander into a mine-filled jungle, the school will be shut down.”

“But we love our school. Isn’t that right, Hla Meh?” Thet Ye looked back at his friend, but she only continued to stare at the soldier. Her eyes remained as wide as Thet Ye had ever seen them.

The man paced back and forth for a few moments, then crouched down to the children’s level. “How about this? I will not tell anyone you were here as long as you do not tell anyone. That way, your teachers will not get into trouble. Do we have a deal?” He offered his hand.

Thet Ye shook it, feeling the strange smoothness of the burn scars. “Deal.”

With a helpful point from the soldier, Thet Ye and Hla Meh made their way back to the church. She held his hand the whole way, so tight it hurt. Thet Ye did not want to offend his friend, but he could not allow the other boys to see them holding hands. He wrenched his hand free before they pushed out from the last of the vines. Even then, Hla Meh said nothing. She ran off to the school shelters where the day’s session was starting.

Thet Ye did not tell the teachers about the soldiers. Hla Meh remained silent the whole day as well, though she had never agreed to keep the secret. After school, Thet Ye caught up to her in a muddy track between bamboo houses, a shortcut to the newer section of the camp. The narrow gap between thatched roofs left them both in shadow.

“You’re going to stick to the deal, right?” He took her hand from behind.

She jerked it away.

One minute she wanted to hold his hand, the next she did not. Aung Thu seemed wiser by the second. “What’s wrong?”

“There is no deal—not with those men.”

“But what about our teachers? Those men could tell the government. They are soldiers.”

“They are liars. They are Burmese militiamen who hate us.”

Now Thet Ye understood. He’d heard stories of the war, but Hla Meh had lived it. She had seen the militias destroy her village. He tried reassuring her. “No, silly. The soldiers were nice to us, and they spoke Thai.”

“You speak Thai. But you are not from Thailand.”

Thet Ye could not argue. None of the children in the camp belonged in Thailand, even those born there. Refugees did not belong anywhere. He shook his head. “Yes, but the uniforms.”

“Militias wear uniforms too.” Hla Meh sat down and cried.

Oh, how he should have listened to Aung Thu the Wise. At a loss, Thet Ye kneeled in the mud and held her shoulders.

Hla Meh leaned into him. “Do you know what happened to Peh?” she said between sobs.

Thet Ye knew enough Karenni children and grown-ups to understand that by Peh, she meant her father. He swallowed. “No.” He’d asked about her father not long after they’d met, on the day the school opened, but she had turned sullen, so he had never asked again.

“Peh stood up to them, men wearing uniforms just like those. They came to purge the village of Christians. He said someone had to stop them.”

Her sobs grew stronger. Thet Ye held her shoulders. If a grown-up saw, they wouldn’t understand, and he would be in trouble. But what else could he do?

“Mua tried to hide my eyes. She tried to pull me into the trees, but I saw Peh. I saw him fall. They shot him, and then they burned our church to the ground.” She looked into Thet Ye’s eyes. “If they could do that in our village, they can do it here too.”

CHAPTER

FIVE

GAGARIN AIRFIELD

SARATOV, RUSSIA

TALIALISTENEDTOTHEGEAR of Tyler’s Gulfstream 650 swing up into the well.

Tyler’s gear. Tyler’s Gulfstream. Tyler’s rescue. She was grateful, sure, but did he have to hover around her like a helicopter mom? She sank her aching body into soft white leather and frowned across a walnut table at Finn. “Where’s Val?”

The Aussie opened his mouth