The Traitor's Pawn

by Lisa Harris

  “You’re sure he’s in there alone?” Jack asked Agent Brewster, who was in charge of the logistics.

  “Yes, sir. He’s sitting at a table on the east side of the restaurant.”

  “What about waiting for him to leave?” Agent Pepper asked.

  “That would open up too many variables for him to get away. Going in quietly is our best option. The restaurant isn’t very busy. We’ll be in and out before he can protest.”

  “We have four agents set up outside the building, and two more will go with you inside, Agent Shannon,” Brewster said. “I want you in and out. Clean and fast.”

  “And I want a tracker on his car in case he does manage to escape,” Jack said.

  “Already done.”

  “Good.”

  Jack felt good about their plan, but from the profile they’d compiled on the man, he also knew Peter Cheng not only seemed to have nine lives, he was fearless. But Cheng wasn’t the only one determined to win this battle. Jack glanced up at the video screen capturing all three exits of the restaurant. They were ready. There was no way this guy could get past them.

  Five minutes later, he stepped out into the sunshine, thankful Bree had agreed to stay out of the action. He could see the hood of the car she was sitting in along with Agent Baker, guarding the side exit. Mei was at a safe house two miles away with agents, ensuring no one got to her before or during the arrest.

  They’d worked to see that they covered every angle that had come up in the short time they had. He knew all too well the gamble he was taking, but it was time to bring Cheng in.

  They’d bring in Cheng, and Cheng would lead them to the rest of his minions, as well as Bree’s father, who hopefully would in turn lead them to the Chinese involved as well.

  Their house of cards was about to collapse.

  Cheng sat alone at a window table like Jack had been told. Apparently, he hadn’t waited for Mei to order. He already had a plate full of food and a glass of wine in front of him.

  Jack crossed the wood flooring, taking in the positions of everyone else in the room. As he walked in, the manager, who was working with them, escorted the remaining customers out. If things did go wrong, they didn’t want anyone caught in the crossfire.

  “Peter Cheng . . . I’m Special Agent Jack Shannon.” Jack stopped on the other side of the table across from the man and pulled back his suit jacket, revealing his badge. “I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible, but I need you to walk out of here with me. I have a warrant for your arrest for the recruitment of American citizens as assets for your government.”

  “Special Agent Jack Shannon.” Cheng picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “I was wondering who they’d send in here. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Jack forced himself to maintain an outward calm, wondering what he’d missed. He knew their plan was solid, but he also had no desire to underestimate the man. The FBI had been searching for him far too long to do that.

  Cheng took a bite of his meal, as if they were chatting at a garden party. “Have you ever tried these? They’re braised whole abalones.”

  Jack’s irritation rose. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Abalone is a mollusk that eats seaweed. It’s expensive and tastes something like scallops. It’s also very healthy and worth every bite.”

  “I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, but you need to come with me now.”

  Jack felt the muscles of his jaw twitch. The man seemed far too . . . composed. There was no way he could have known they were coming unless Mei told him, and she was with his men, so that was impossible. She’d been monitored by agents ever since agreeing to help them take Cheng down.

  “Don’t worry. Mei didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Cheng said, answering Jack’s question without him having to voice it. “She thought my life sounded exciting, and thought she could be a part of it. But she’s far too naïve. And so are you, if you think you can use Mei to corner me. But I’m being rude. Why don’t you sit down and join me? I could call the waiter and order you something. If you don’t like the abalone, I recommend the sautéed prawns. They’re delicious.”

  Jack pulled out his firearm and pointed it at the man. The two agents behind him followed his lead.

  “That isn’t happening,” Jack said. “You’re going to put down your fork, stand up, and come with me.”

  “Here’s the problem. Like it or not, this isn’t exactly going to end the way you were hoping.” Cheng looked up at him. “Because if you attempt to arrest me, Mei dies.”

  Jack’s heart thudded in his throat. “What?”

  “You heard what I said. Now sit down.”

  Jack hesitated—still unsure if he was bluffing—then sat down, signaling for the two agents behind him to stay where they were. Cheng had been one step ahead of them the entire investigation, and Jack needed to find out how.

  Cheng slid his phone across the table. “Does this convince you I’m telling the truth?”

  A photo of Mei stared back at Jack, hands bound in front of her and a gag around her mouth.

  No.

  No . . . This was impossible. They’d covered their bases and gone over every possible scenario they could think of. They’d taken Mei to a safe location and had a team watching her to make sure nothing like this could happen.

  “When was this taken?” Jack asked.

  “Just a few minutes ago. Your agents who were guarding her will live, but they will have bad headaches.” Cheng grabbed his napkin and wiped his hands. “Which means that the trump card has just switched from you to me, giving me the pleasure of deciding what happens next. Which is this. As soon as we’re done chatting here, I’m going to walk out that door, and you—and your entire entourage—are going to watch me walk away.”

  “No we’re not. I have agents surrounding this place, and backup available immediately at Mei’s location.”

  “Good for you, but here’s what’s about to happen. There is a camera on my shirt showing what is happening here. If I don’t walk out of here in the next five minutes, Mei dies. If anything happens to me on my way out, Mei will die. It’s as simple as that. A guarantee, shall we say, that you behave and do what you’re told.”

  Anger swept through him, but Jack knew he couldn’t gamble Mei’s life. And something told him Cheng wouldn’t hesitate to follow through with his threat.

  “Why meet with me if you knew I was coming?” Jack asked. “Why not simply disappear?”

  Cheng laughed at the question. “It’s a part of the game. You had the advantage of knowing who you were after. Now I know who you are. Who is after me.” He scooted his chair back. “Now tell your agents to stand down, Shannon.”

  Jack hesitated again, jaw tensed as he looked for a back door out of the situation. One that put Cheng behind bars and kept Mei safe. But it was already too late, it seemed. At least for the moment.

  “You think I’m bluffing.” Cheng picked up his phone and ran his finger across Mei’s photo. “She’s a beautiful girl, isn’t she? Smart. Talented. But not smart enough, obviously, because she fell for me. Though it wasn’t hard to charm her. She’s also extremely naïve and innocent. Actually, a perfect mark. And she was getting me exactly what I wanted.”

  “This is far from over.”

  “That is where you are once again wrong. Last chance to call off your boys, Shannon. And I better not discover I’m being followed.”

  Jack hesitated, then spoke through his com. “Stand down, I repeat stand down and let Cheng through. Do not follow.”

  Cheng slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the table and walked out of the restaurant.

  Ten seconds later, Jack stepped inside the back of the surveillance van with the other agents and slammed the door behind him. “You’re tracking his car?”

  Agent Brewster stared at the computer in front of him. “He had someone pick him up. We can put a BOLO out on the description of the car, but likely it’s stolen, and they’ll d
itch it before we have a chance to find it.”

  “I don’t care what the odds are. We need to find this man,” Jack said, addressing the team. “I need to know how Cheng got a jump on us, and how he knew where Mei was. I want backup sent to her location to help the agents, along with an ambulance. And if Mei really is gone . . . I want to know where she is.”

  Jack reined in his tongue and managed to bite the rest of the words he wanted to throw at the men. Yelling wasn’t going to get him the answers he needed, but neither was sitting here doing nothing. If Mei died because they fouled up . . .

  “We had him.” Jack’s voice rose to a frustrated shout. “But now we just lost what was probably our best chance to bring Cheng in. And on top of that, we have an innocent woman’s life on the line.”

  “I don’t know what to say, sir, except I am trying to trace the signal from his phone.”

  “Trying isn’t good enough.” Jack loosened his tie and pulled it off. On top of everything else, it felt like a heat wave in the middle of November. “I need to know where he is. Now.”

  “Jack . . .” Bree stepped into the back of the van, her face pale. “What just happened?”

  “He outplayed us.”

  “How?” She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”

  “That’s what I thought, but he did. He’s gone, and he has Mei and possibly two of our agents.”

  “Do you think she told him?” Bree asked.

  “He said she didn’t, and I don’t know how she could have, but it’s possible.”

  “No . . . She wouldn’t have told him. I saw the fear in her eyes when I told her what he’d done. She wouldn’t have told him. But either way, we have to find her. Because whether she told him or not, he’s going to kill her. She knows too much now.”

  “We will find her, Bree.”

  He could see her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. If they didn’t find Mei—alive—she was going to blame herself for involving the innocent woman.

  “What are we doing to find her?” she asked.

  “Backup is on its way to the safe house now in case she’s still there. We also have someone working to track the signal from Cheng’s phone.”

  “How?” Bree turned to Brewster.

  “It’s a long shot at this point, but thanks to the information we got off Hwang’s phone, we’re trying to access Cheng’s cell phone signal and become a middle man between him and the cell tower. If we can locate his phone, then we can tap into his text messages and phone calls and even his GPS.”

  “What about tracking Mei?”

  “That’s where it gets trickier,” Brewster said. “If Cheng calls or texts the men who have her, we can try and tap into their signal as well. Then we might have a chance of finding her, but it won’t be easy.”

  “Keep trying,” Jack said to his team, then turned back to Bree. “Let’s go outside and let them work.”

  She stepped outside the truck, her arms wrapped around her waist. “Why did he agree to meet with you if he knew it was a setup?”

  “He told me it’s a game.”

  “What kind of game?”

  “His own twisted one. He’s a spy who handles assets for a living. He loves what he does, and the risks he takes—that and the money—fuels him to stay in ‘the game.’”

  She leaned against the back of the van while the wind whipped her hair around her shoulders. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yes, but it also makes sense. He does this for the adrenaline rush. At least partly. You know how it is. You love curling up with a good book, but I have a feeling that after a week, you wouldn’t be able to stand the quiet. Why?”

  She stared beyond him. “Because I want to be out there. Doing what I know makes a difference in the world.”

  “Exactly.”

  She blinked back the tears. “He’s not going to let her go. He’s going to kill her, Jack.”

  “Then we better find a way to get to her before he does.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE BACK DOOR of the van opened, and Agent Pepper stuck his head out. “You need to come in here and see this—both of you.”

  “You found Cheng?” Aubrey asked, pulse racing as she ducked inside. Just because they’d been played didn’t mean this was over.

  “So far we haven’t been able to trace his cell phone—”

  “But you have something,” Jack said.

  Brewster nodded. “We just screened an anonymous 911 call that was made in the same block where Mei was being kept across the bay.”

  “And . . .”

  “A neighbor saw two men force a woman into the trunk of a car. We have the license plate of the car.”

  “What about a location of the car, or description of whoever took her . . . anything?” Jack asked, shutting the van door behind them.

  “We’re trying to get more information now, but a BOLO was just put out on the plate.”

  Aubrey glanced at Jack. “What about the witness?”

  “Officers are on their way there now.”

  “Jack . . .” Aubrey turned to him. “We’re only fifteen minutes away at the most. I want to talk to the witness.”

  “I agree.” Jack turned to Brewster. “What about a GPS locator on the car?”

  “We’re working on it. If the vehicle’s equipped with security like OnStar we should be able to use GPS to locate it. It even might be possible to remotely slow down the vehicle.”

  “We’ll need the address of the witness,” Aubrey said, heading back outside in front of Jack.

  Brewster called out, “I’ve already sent it to both your phones.”

  Three minutes later, they were heading across the Harbor Bridge toward Portland, located across the Nueces Bay from Corpus Christi, past the Texas State Aquarium and the USS Lexington. Crime was typically lower in Portland, partly because of a higher police presence, making it the perfect place—she assumed—for an FBI safe house. But something in their plan had gone very wrong.

  A sick feeling had started spreading through her the moment she’d heard Cheng had Mei. She’d been the one to convince the girl to trust her—that they needed her to bring in Cheng—and that she’d be protected. Instead Cheng had found a way to get to her. And if she wasn’t already dead, she would be soon.

  Guilt bored through Aubrey as she stared out at the water. If anything happened to Mei, she was to blame.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Jack said as they sped across the bridge.

  “I’m thinking how sad it’ll be when they replace this beautiful bridge with the new one,” she said. She knew that wasn’t what he’d been looking for, but she wasn’t ready to talk about what they were facing.

  “Okay . . .”

  “I read that the new bridge will be the tallest point in South Texas.” She picked at a broken nail as she stared out the window. “It will also be the longest cable-stayed bridge in the US.”

  “Bree—”

  She sucked in a lungful of air, but it only seemed to feed her apprehension. Time was running out and they needed to drive faster. To find that vehicle before they took Mei to Cheng.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Aubrey said. “I told her she’d be okay. That we’d protect her. How did he get to her?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find out. We’ll find her.”

  “What if we find her and it’s too late?”

  What if she’s already dead?

  Aubrey wiped away a tear she couldn’t blink back, hating how weak and vulnerable the situation made her feel. But the bottom line was they’d underestimated Cheng, and now Mei was going to pay the price with her life.

  “This isn’t over,” Jack said.

  Biting back her frustration, she continued the prayer she’d started for Mei the moment she’d discovered what had happened. She prayed that Jack was somehow right and they would find Mei safe. That Cheng wouldn’t be able to hurt her no matter what his intentions. And that they’d find a way to end this entire
nightmare.

  Because that was why she did what she did. To serve and protect.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence. Ten minutes later, Jack pulled in front of the address they’d been given. The one-story, brick-faced house was located across the street and one down from the safe house.

  He glanced at the text message Brewster had sent as they walked up to the safe house, where a yellow crime scene tape had been hung up. “Sergeant Fernandez?”

  “Yes.”

  Jack held up his badge and introduced the two of them to the officer standing on the front porch.

  “We were just informed that you were on your way here,” the sergeant said. “Do you want to see inside the safe house?”

  “Not right now,” Aubrey said. “We’d like to speak to the witness first.”

  “I sent her back to her house. She was pretty shaken, but she’s aware there will be more questions.”

  “Good.”

  “And the agents who were guarding Mei?” Aubrey asked.

  “They’ve been taken to the hospital. The paramedics who responded believe they should fully recover.”

  “What do you know about the witness?” Aubrey asked as the three of them started walking toward the sidewalk.

  “Name’s Jacqueline Waters. She works at the post office here in town. Normally she’d be working, but she happened to be taking a sick day.”

  They nodded their thanks, then headed across the street. Aubrey stepped onto the front porch and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, a woman opened the door, leaving the screen shut.

  “Jacqueline Waters?” Jack asked.

  The fortysomething-year-old woman, wearing sweats and a hoodie, nodded.

  “I’m FBI Special Agent Jack Shannon and this is Detective Aubrey Grayson. I know you’ve already spoken to an officer, but we’d like to hear what happened from you.”

  The woman nodded again, then sneezed into a tissue. “Of course. And I’m sorry . . . I would invite you in, but I’ve got this horrible cold, which is why I was home in the first place.”

  “This is fine,” Aubrey said. “If you’d just tell us exactly what you saw across the street, we’d appreciate it.”