by Aisha Tritle
Jonathan cleared his throat.
The expression on Ilya’s face was hard to read. Sophia studied him, wondering if she could glean anything comforting from his gaze. Suddenly, as if reading her mind, he smiled. Sophia breathed a sigh of relief.
Benny put in his earpiece. “Alright, are we good to go?”
“Good to go,” said Jonathan.
They headed out of the apartment and down to the garage. Benny hopped in the driver’s seat of the van, while Sophia got in the back with Ilya and Jonathan.
“Here we go,” exhaled Ilya. He gave Sophia’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
Sophia held onto his hand for a few seconds. He was in a better mood than the day before. He’d actually smiled! And the snarky comments had been kept to a minimum.
Jonathan handed her the wooden box containing the sliver-trackers and nanoparticle liquid. She slipped it into the left pocket of her uniform.
He leaned forward, his green eyes searching Sophia earnestly. “So we’re clear on everything,” he said. “Yes?”
Sophia knew the plan by heart, but nervousness cast doubt in her mind. It was better to be absolutely sure. “Could you repeat the bare bones of it one more time?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Jonathan. “We drop you off around the back. You go into the spa, talk to Mako. She’s been told that you’re Yukiko’s temporary replacement. Ask her what room Max Kwon is in. You go into the room. Plant the sliver-trackers. Try and use the liquid, but only if you can. Then, hour’s up. You come out the back, walk a bit down the street, and we pick you up.”
“Got it,” said Sophia, still trying to quell her nervousness. Her breathing had become shallow.
Jonathan rubbed her arm.
“You’ll do great.”
Benny called out from the front of the van. “ETA: two minutes!”
He was oddly joyful. But Sophia appreciated his gleeful tone; it helped relieve the tension.
Jonathan handed her a small leather handbag and earpiece. The handbag was not so much for utility as décor. She slipped the earpiece in.
“Alright, Soph, can you hear me?” asked Benny.
“I mean, I can hear you cause you’re super close—“
Benny groaned and pulled his earpiece out. “Idiot,” he muttered and switched it on. “How about now?”
Sophia nodded. “I can hear you.”
“Alright, good. Just to clarify…don’t speak to us unless you have to. We’ll be able to hear everything. Once you’re done, we’ll tell you exactly where to go.”
The Royal came into sight. It was gorgeous.
“Looks expensive,” said Ilya.
Sophia snorted. “You’re one to talk,” she said.
Their eyes met, and Ilya smiled. Sophia started to feel better. She braced herself as Benny pulled behind the hotel to the less glamorous, but still beautiful, side with a stone pathway leading up to the glass entrance.
The van door slid open.
“Good luck,” said Jonathan.
Sophia headed to the entrance. Her feet tread quickly on the pathway. Maybe too quickly. She slowed down. It took everything in her power not to gasp in horror at her reflection on the glass door.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.
Even the less popular side of the lobby was bustling. Impeccably groomed women and men in tailored business suits swarmed around.
The spa was on the second floor. Sophia walked to the elevator. A middle-aged Japanese man had already pressed the button, so she stood and waited in a crowd of about five people. Nobody was looking at her. Such a relief. Then again, nobody was really looking at anybody.
The elevator bell rang, and the doors opened. The crowd flooded in; Sophia entered last and pressed the button for the second floor.
The elevator was crammed, and someone was breathing in her ear. It felt as if the crowd of five had multiplied exponentially on entry.
But it seemed to take only a second before the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
Sophia stepped out, sighed in relief, and straightened her uniform. She slipped her hand into her pocket and ran her fingers over the wooden box.
The spa was on the right, and Sophia strode towards it. The floor was deathly quiet.
When she parted the curtains covering the entrance, a deep cherrywood standing desk came into view, with a rather severe looking Japanese woman behind it.
The woman looked up as Sophia walked into the spa. She eyed Sophia closely. “You’re here for Max Kwon, yes?”
“Yes.”
The woman stared, but said nothing. Sophia fidgeted. “Which room?“
The woman raised her hand, and Sophia’s chest tightened—was she just about to be turned away?
“This way,” whispered the woman, going down an adjoining hallway.
The woman parted three different curtained entrances on their journey. She finally stopped in a room lined with a sofa, shelves of bottles, and towels.
She fixed Sophia with yet another intense stare. “When he arrives, I’ll come get you.” Then she was gone.
Sophia took a minute to compose herself before walking over to the shelves. Oil was necessary. She browsed the bottles. There were so many options. So many scents. Jonathan had given her a list of notes about Max Kwon, about his habits and peculiarities.
She remembered the man had an affinity for Jasmine green tea.
“Perfect,” she murmured, taking down a bottle of Jasmine-scented oil.
She sat down on the sofa. The room was barely lit. That, combined with the quiet environment, began to melt away Sophia’s worry.
Opening the wooden box, she pulled out the plastic bag of sliver-trackers and vial and slipped them back into her pocket.
She’d be fine. She’d been on tougher missions before. Tougher missions with more gruesome endings. All she had to do was give the man a massage and plant the trackers. How hard could it be?
The curtains parted. The severe Japanese woman beckoned. “He in room three,” she said. “Follow me. You get what you need?”
Sophia nodded and followed the woman down the hall.
When they got to room three, the woman turned around and eyed her up and down.
A pang of doubt returned to Sophia under the intense scrutiny.
Finally, the woman held up her fingers in the OK sign. “You should be good.”
She opened the door, and Sophia stepped in.
This room was dimly lit as well. Some scent Sophia couldn’t identify wafted from the incense sticks in the corner. Max Kwon lay on the table, his back uncovered.
But someone else was there. A burly-looking man stood to the right of the door, hands crossed. He wore a tailored suit. There was no way you could get a suit like that off the rack. He was too broad, too tall, his hips too narrow.
Sophia blinked at him. Of course, there would be a bodyguard. The second richest man in Hong Kong wouldn’t go wandering around without security at all times.
Nobody said anything. Max Kwon lay silent. The bodyguard simply looked at Sophia, uninterested. Was there a no-speaking policy in the room? Sophia didn’t know.
She bowed to the bodyguard. He didn’t do anything. Sophia set down her towel and picked up the oil. She emptied a little into her palm and rubbed her hands. Then she set her hands on the man’s back and began.
Amazingly, twenty minutes went by without any interruption. Sophia’s confidence spiked, the corner of her mouth went up in half a smile. She was doing a good job.
Suddenly, the man on the table spoke. “Could I have some water?”
Shit. Was that normal? Was she doing something wrong?
Sophia cleared her throat. “Of course.”
She wiped her hands on the towel. A pitcher of water was in the corner of the room. As she walked to it, she slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled a few of the sliver-trackers out of their bag.
Sophia headed back to the table. “Here you go.”
Max Kwon rolled over—
flashing a bit more than expected. Sophia tried not to look grossed out.
He grabbed the glass and took one measly sip. Then he handed it to the burly man by the door.
“Continue,” he said, plopping back on his stomach.
Sophia unscrewed the vial in her pocket and emptied some of the liquid onto her hand. The bodyguard wasn’t watching her too closely. In fact, he wasn’t watching her at all. He stared off into the distance, bored.
Sophia suspected nothing ever really happened to warrant his job. No wonder he was so disinterested.
Freedom, though, that was what it allowed her. She could plant the trackers without having to hide her movements too much.
She gently rubbed his shoulder and neck as she planted the nanoparticles. This was going easier than expected. She poured oil into her palm and warmed her hands again.
The slivers were next.
The next five minutes passed in peace. Max Kwon hadn’t given her any praise, but he hadn’t complained either. Sophia discreetly pulled out a tracker from her pocket. It was so thin she was scared of crushing it. Would they really work?
She pushed one into his shoulder. No reaction. Sophia breathed a sigh of relief.
She would have to strategically plant the next few trackers, time-wise and location-wise. If she kept sticking her hand in her pocket, then the bodyguard might actually start paying attention.
“Are you going to have me turn over?” said a muffled voice.
Sophia froze. “Sorry?”
“When are you going to do my arms and feet?”
Shit. Sophia wiped a thin layer of sweat from her brow. “Right now,” she said.
The man on the table turned over—and flashed her again.
“Ugh,” muttered Sophia.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
Sophia took up his arm and massaged it. But there was a problem; his eyes were open. He was watching her every move. She couldn’t plant anything if he could see her doing it.
“You’re good,” said Max.
A sinking feeling appeared in Sophia’s stomach. Now he wanted to talk? Great. “Thanks,” she said.
“Where are you from? Your accent is English, no?”
“Yep. I’m from London.”
“Oh, I love London,” said Max.
Sophia didn’t say anything, just shot him a smile. She desperately wished for him to stop talking.
Walking over to the other side of the table, she switched arms. Her wish wasn’t granted.
“When did you move here?”
Sophia’s chest started to tighten again. “About two years ago.”
“Why did you move?”
The tightness of her chest made it hard for Sophia to breathe. Max Kwon’s eyes were boring into her. She knew she had to speak.
“Why did you move?” he repeated, words ringing in the air.
“Just wanted a change of pace,” smiled Sophia. “A challenge, of sorts.”
To her surprise, Max smiled as well. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I understand.”
Sophia cleared her throat and moved to the bottom of the table. “I’ll do your feet now.”
“Okay, okay.”
Sophia reached into her pocket and pulled out a few trackers.
The heels. Feet were sensitive except for the heels. Max couldn’t see her, and he wouldn’t feel the trackers if she put them in the heels.
She settled down on a stool and got to work.
Over the rest of the appointment, she managed to plant four—in each foot. The man on the table didn’t react at all.
When their time was up, Sophia stood and smoothed out her uniform. “I’ll leave you to get dressed,” she said.
To her dismay, Max Kwon got up. He couldn’t seem to stay covered. “I’ll meet you at the front to pay.”
Sophia backed out of the room. “Of course.”
As soon as she was out of the room, she went to the front of the spa. The severe-looking woman seemed to be preoccupied with her appointment book. Sophia quietly slipped out the entrance and went to the elevator. The doors slid open within a few seconds of her pushing the button. Soon, she was walking down the stone pathway behind the hotel.
Benny’s voice resounded in her earpiece, “Hey, Soph, walk down to your left for about a block. There’s an alley between a cute little ramen shop and a tourist store, go there.”
He sounded out of breath. Sophia wondered if the importance of the day ahead had finally hit him.
She followed his instructions, finding the alley with little difficulty. When she opened the van door, she found herself staring into the deathly pale faces of Jonathan and Benny. The latter was sweating buckets, rubbing his hands on his knees.
Sophia’s heart dropped. “What’s the matter?”
The two men exchanged glances. “Ilya’s gone.”
28
Sophia pulled the hood of her jacket further down her face as her eyes scanned the surrounding splendor of the Winchester Hotel.
“An emergency meeting with a business associate at the Winchester. It couldn’t wait,” Jonathan had said.
That’s where he’d sent Ilya, and that was when Ilya had dropped off the radar. They hadn’t given any more details, but there was some looming secret they didn’t want Sophia to know. But at the moment, she didn’t care. Her focus was on finding Ilya. They still had time. One hour down, three left until the meeting at the Royal.
The Winchester was a good two miles away from the Royal. They’d dropped Ilya off a couple of blocks away in order to keep in contact with Sophia. Because once they were more than a mile away, the earpieces would stop functioning. They weren’t able to keep tabs on Ilya and her simultaneously, and he never reached his intended destination.
Benny had been hacking the Winchester security cameras, while Jonathan had gone upstairs to make peace with whomever Ilya had failed to meet. Sophia stood in the lobby, waiting for any information on the whereabouts of their missing partner.
Benny’s voice came through the earpiece. “I can’t find anything,” he said with a sigh. “All the camera feeds are clean. Ilya isn’t anywhere in them.”
Sophia sat down in a leather armchair in the corner of the lobby. “You checked all the feeds?”
“He’s nowhere to be found.”
“So someone grabbed him on the way here.”
“Yeah,” said Benny. “Either that, or he left.”
Sophia shook her head, even though there was nobody to see. Ilya had too much rage against Norbert and The Org, he wouldn’t just up and leave—especially today. Today was too important.
“He didn’t leave,” said Sophia.
“We don’t know—“
“He didn’t leave, Benny. I know he didn’t.”
All that came through the earpiece was silence. The lobby of the Winchester was bustling, but nowhere near as busy as the Royal.
Sophia got up.
“I’m going to go down a couple of blocks, search the way he was supposed to come here.”
“If somebody grabbed him, there’s no point in searching,” said Benny. “He’ll be long gone.”
His words didn’t discourage Sophia. “Can you hack into any of the cameras on the street?” she asked.
“There really aren’t that many…”
“Can you, though?”
“Uhhh…” Benny’s voice drifted off.
“Can you?”
“Probably…I mean, not all the cameras. That’d take too long. If you find something suspicious, and there’s a camera nearby…maybe?”
“Good,” said Sophia, as she pushed her way through the Winchester doors with terrifying force. “Where did you drop him off?” she asked.
“Right by this bakery called ‘Baguette.’”
“That’s lovely,” she muttered. Sophia scanned the streets. It was too busy. People swarmed around her, streaming past in the blink of an eye. She turned her head to look into every alley, every shop. Ilya was nowhere.
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“Honestly, Soph, just give up and come sit in the van,” said Benny.
She didn’t reply. There was one more block until the bakery. A man rammed into her injured arm as he passed by.
“Damn,” Sophia winced. Her pace slowed for a moment.
A glint of red on the pavement caught her eye. She knelt down and studied the red smear. Blood?
She followed a few more smears into a small alley nearby. It was empty, save for a few trash cans and a stray cat. Sophia took a few cautious steps, and noticed the smears were getting bigger. She’d seen enough to know they were definitely blood.
Her breath became shallow as she searched the walls and ground. Suddenly, her heart stopped. Right before her was a crimson puddle.
Sophia’s hand covered her mouth. The amount of blood was excessive…what had they done to him? She took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Benny, I’ve got something.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a lot of blood in an alley about a block away from where you dropped him off. It’s fresh.”
“Shit…”
“Were you being watched?”
“I don’t think so,” Benny replied, panic creeping into his voice. “I don’t know. We were careful.”
A wave of anger swept over Sophia. “Obviously not careful enough,” she said.
“Shit, shit, shit,” mumbled Benny.
Sophia went back to the sidewalk. “There are a few drops that lead to the sidewalk, but then it disappears.”
“Are there any cameras nearby?”
Sophia scoured her surroundings. Benny was right about there not being too many cameras, but she lucked out. “There’s a crepe place diagonally across the street,” she said. “If you can get the footage from their camera out front, it’s positioned at an angle that might show us who took him.”
“Give me a minute,” said Benny.
Sophia went back to the alley, looking for anything else that could help them find where Ilya had gone.
There was nothing. Who took him? All of them had stayed well out of sight. Except…
Ilya had gone for a walk the night before.
“Stupid,” whispered Sophia.
She rubbed her forehead and groaned. Where had he gone? Somebody had found him. Somebody had kept eyes on him, followed him, and taken him. Was their mission going to shit just because Ilya went on a walk to calm down?
