Strait of Hormuz by Davis Bunn

Author:Davis Bunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042060, FIC042000, FIC026000, Intelligence service—United States—Fiction, Nuclear weapons—Iran—Fiction, Preemptive attack (Military science)—Israel—Fiction, Hormuz, Strait of—Fiction, Persian Gulf Region—Fiction, Suspense fiction
ISBN: 9781441262790
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2013-10-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The next morning, Kitra called Marc’s room as soon as she had washed her face. “Were you serious about what you suggested?”

“You know I was. Did you sleep?”

“Some. Not a lot.”

“The whisper of near death can be very loud when you’re alone in the dark. Next time call, and we’ll get together and pray. It helps.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“I was waiting for your call.”

“And doing what till then?”

“Looking for something in the Scriptures. Preparing for our time together.”

That was what defined him, she knew. The willingness to make infinite effort and be prepared for anything. Even this. A dawn prayer time with a woman he should not love. “Give me ten minutes.”

She ordered a breakfast for two, dressed, and was ready to greet him when he knocked. Breakfast arrived soon after he did. Both sets of French doors were open to the rising sun. The traffic was a constant rush somewhere out of sight. From where she sat, Marc was framed by the lake and the hills and the growing light of day. The air was freshened by a sweet morning chill. Birdsong pierced the room’s silence. The gilded ceiling and polished wooden floor reflected the beauty of another day. They ate from embossed china and drank fresh coffee from a silver thermos. Kitra tried hard to convince herself it was close enough to her dream come true.

When she declined his offer of more coffee, Marc said, “I was looking for a passage that might frame what we were going to be doing here.” He pulled a hotel notepad from his pocket. “This comes from the twenty-fifth chapter of Proverbs. ‘It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings.’”

He shifted his coffee cup over and placed the pad on the table between them. “Sitting here in this amazing place. The fate of nations in the balance. I would say we’re as close to royalty as we ever need to come, both in terms of beauty and responsibility.”

She could see he had spent a long time on this, measuring out the words, taking aim at the objective. Curious, she asked, “Did you sleep at all?”

“Some. Enough.” He touched the pad. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot. But do you have a Scripture passage you’ve been thinking about?”

“Something I thought of just before I fell asleep. A prayer my father used to say when I was young. Every night when he tucked me into bed. It’s a revision of the hundred and twenty-fifth Psalm. ‘Lord, as the mountains surround Jerusalem, so surround my family and me, both now and forevermore.’”

“I like that. A lot.” He turned to a new page and wrote it down. “I have an idea how we could proceed. But that’s all it is. An idea. If you don’t like it—”

“Tell me.”

“It goes back to the passage from Proverbs. We don’t know what to do, where to go, or how. So I thought we’d try and take this time to find out what we want, and what God wants, and pray for each other.

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