Grant shrugged. "That's what Toven got out of the Doomer he interrogated, and he used compulsion, so the bastard couldn't lie."
"Toven barely managed to break through." Camden met Lokan's eyes in the rearview mirror. "No offense, but you couldn't have done that."
"None taken," Lokan said. "I'm only a three-quarter god, and until I met Carol, I could only thrall and compel humans." He cast her a fond smile. "You make me a better male."
"Of course, Ricky."
"Ricky?" Grant asked.
Carol laughed. "Meet Lucy and Ricky. Those are our fake identities."
"I see," Grant said. "Well, we are here in case you encounter enhanced Doomers. Your mind tricks might not work on them."
"Speaking of Doomers," Lokan glanced at the three Guardians in the mirror. "Did you encounter any at the airport?"
Dougal nodded. "We spotted at least two outside the terminal, but they were focused on people going in, not those coming out. We managed to slip past them easily enough."
"Why didn't you just take them out?" Carol asked. "It would have been nice to just drive to the airport and fly out of here."
"Because there might have been more of them," Lokan said.
"Correct," Grant agreed. "Turner's contact was waiting for us with a taxi outside, and he took us to the helicopter rental place. You'd be amazed at what tourists will pay for tours of the Gobi. We learned that Westerners use them to conduct aerial photography expeditions, and wealthy hunters use them to look for argali sheep. It's a thriving business."
Lokan chuckled. "It's fascinating what people come up with to make money. Entrepreneurship drives innovation even here."
"How far to the safe house?" Camden asked.
Dougal checked his phone. "Three hours, give or take. It's a farm outside Sükhbaatar. The owners are visiting relatives in Ulaanbaatar tonight, so we will have the place to ourselves."
"Convenient," Lokan muttered. "Turner's global network of operatives is impressive. He has contacts everywhere."
Grant's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. "Please tell me there's someplace to stop for food. I haven't eaten since yesterday's airline meal, and that barely qualified as food."
"There are no dining options on this route." Carol reached for her bag. "But I bought supplies this morning. I've got dried meat, bread, some fruit that's probably bruised by now, and these fried pastry things that the vendor assured me were a local delicacy."
"You're a lifesaver." Grant took what she offered. "Literally. I was about to start eyeing Dougal like a piece of meat."
"I'm all gristle," Dougal protested. "Camden would be much more tender."
"I hate you both," Camden said, but he was grinning as he bit into one of the pastries. "These are actually good. What are they?"
"Khuushuur," Carol pronounced carefully. "Fried meat pockets."
When they were done eating, Grant looked at Lokan through the rearview mirror. "I wonder how long your father has suspected you of double-crossing him."
The blunt statement was like a kick to the gut, even though it shouldn't have been. His father didn't deserve his loyalty.
"I didn't double-cross him. I only supplied information that was important to protect the clan."
"It doesn't matter," Carol said. "We're out now. That's what counts."
She was right, of course. But some part of him was still wrestling with the betrayal—not his betrayal of Navuh, because he didn't feel like he'd actually betrayed his father, but his father's betrayal of him.
Some foolish part of him had hoped that Navuh loved him in his own twisted way and that he wouldn't hurt him.
Maybe he had?
After all, if he'd suspected Lokan of betrayal, he could have detained him a long time ago during his mandatory monthly visits to the island. And yet he hadn't.
What had changed, though?
Why had he decided to make his move now?
Was it because Lokan had attempted to run?
Probably. Maybe his father had waited for definitive proof before moving against him. Not only that, he'd sent the regular rank and file after him when he could have sent his new enhanced warriors.
Perhaps he actually wanted Lokan to get away?
