Farnsworth growled into the phone. “With what I’m paying you, you should have had Grace Peterson to me weeks ago.” “I don’t respond well to threats, Mr. Farnsworth. You’d do well to remember that.” Farnsworth froze at the icy implication in Hancock’s voice. He hated that this man intimidated him. And he didn’t simply intimidate him. He bloody well terrified him, and that pissed him off because he feared no one. People feared him. Except this man who headed up Titan. Farnsworth was certain there wasn’t a man alive that Hancock feared. “Well? Have you located her yet?” “I have,” Hancock said simply. “Rumor is she healed a child in a village on the Belize River and that it nearly killed her. Nothing is known of her current condition, but I have a lock on her location. My contact there says they’re moving her out soon. If I’m patient, they’ll come to me.” Farnsworth swore savagely. “I can’t afford to wait a minute longer. What if the little fool had killed herself trying to heal this other child?
