by Alex Ryan
“What do you think?” she said expectantly.
He made a show of inhaling the symphony of aromas wafting off his plate and then said, “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Then he popped a piece of crispy bacon into his mouth. “Perfect,” he said, chewing.
He saw her blush with pride as she took her seat across the table. Unlike him, instead of going straight for the bacon, she smeared a layer of butter across her waffle and then grabbed the maple syrup bottle and methodically began to pour tiny dollops into each of its square divots—something he used to do as a kid with his Eggo toaster waffles. He stared at her, smiling and chewing.
“What?” she asked, feeling his eyes on her.
“Nothing,” he said, but what he really meant was you’re so adorable.
They ate their “breakfast for dinner,” making small talk and grinning at each other like nervous high school kids on a first date. When they hit a lull, he asked her about returning to work, and she told him that Director Wong had offered her two weeks’ vacation. She said she had refused, insisting that working kept her mind occupied and held thoughts of the hospital ship at bay. She then told him about the rumors that she was next in line to become the department head of the Office of Disease Control and Emergency Response and that accepting the position would mean saying good-bye to lab work, probably for the rest of her career. He asked her if Wong had offered to replace her on the task force, and she shook her head. Then he asked her if she wanted to stay on the task force, and she said, “If I were to quit, I’d feel like I was letting Zhang down . . . What would you do?”
“I’m an unreliable counselor,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I rarely follow my own advice—the operation in Austria is proof of that.”
She smiled wanly, stood, and began clearing the dishes, a signal he took to mean she was ready to put the topic to bed for the evening. Despite her protests, he helped her with the dishes, and then they relocated to the sofa in the living room.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, jumping up and retrieving the paper bag from the dining table where he’d left it. He settled back onto the cushion beside her, this time close enough that their thighs were touching. He looked at her, and she met his gaze, her deep-espresso eyes both hesitant and expectant. “I have something for you,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, her lips curling up in the corners.
He reached into the bag and retrieved the puzzle box—her puzzle box, now meticulously reconstructed and restored. He had done all the physical reparations himself, but for the painting, he had hired a local artist. He presented it to her and watched her expression.
“Oh, Nick,” she gasped as she accepted it into her hands. “You fixed it for me. I don’t know what to say . . . It’s beautiful.” She worked the puzzle box with expert, practiced efficiency, sliding and shifting the concealed wooden panels. “It works perfectly.”
“There’s more,” he said. “Look inside.”
With the box now open, she peered into the inner chamber. Delicately, using her index finger and thumb, she retrieved a silver chain and animal totem pendant. She looked up at him, tears rimming her eyes. “How?” was all she could manage to say.
“I went to see Gang Jin. I thought he deserved to know what happened. When I told him about your kidnapping and what happened on the hospital ship, his face turned so red I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. Cursing himself, he unclasped your pendant from his neck and insisted I return it to you. ‘A lucky charm,’ he said, ‘should never be separated from its true owner, even if given as a gift with good intentions. Tell Dazhong that I’m sorry, and tell her never to take it off again.’”
She closed her eyes, pressed the little silver rat totem to her lips, and kissed it. Then she handed the chain and pendant to him, swiveled in her seat, and lifted up her hair in the back. “Will you put it on me, please?”
“Of course.” With thick, calloused fingers, he fumbled with the miniscule clasp but eventually got it secured around her delicate neck. “There you go,” he said.
She turned around to face him and immediately threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you, Nick. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled, her mouth pressed against his chest.
He returned the embrace and stroked her back with his right hand. “You’re welcome.”
She suddenly let go of him, and she looked at him with hungry eyes.
He leaned in and kissed her, long and slow and passionately.
When they parted for air, she said, “I want you.”
“I want you too.” He leaned in and began kissing her neck, breathing in the smell of her.
“Not tonight,” she whispered, her mouth next to his ear. “I’m not ready. Will you wait for me?”
He pulled back and met her gaze. “Yes . . . for you, I’d wait until the end of time if that’s what you asked of me.”
“I won’t make you wait that long,” she chuckled. Then, she lowered her eyes. “I’m still healing,” she murmured, the double entendre not lost on him. “I want our first time to be without regret . . . and without restraint.”
“Me too,” he said with a crooked grin.
She leaned in and kissed him, this time even more passionately than before. His hands roamed, exploring her waist, hips, and thighs, until he reached the threshold of his self-control. Abruptly, he pulled away from her. “There’s something else.”
“Yes?” she asked, panting in synch with his own heavy breathing.
“A letter . . . for Commander Zhang.”
“What letter?”
“In Austria, when we hit the compound, Yao was already dead when we breached.”
“Yes, I know. Zhang debriefed me.”
“I was the first one to find the body. Yao had two envelopes clenched in his fist. One addressed to Lankford and one, I’m pretty sure, addressed to Zhang.” He reached into the bag, pulled out the sealed envelope with Chinese hanzi hand-scribed in red ink on the front, and handed it to her.
She straightened her blouse, smoothed her skirt, and resettled herself on the sofa cushion before accepting it. “Yes, this is addressed to Commander Zhang,” she said, inspecting the envelope. “You did not open it?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t have to, because I read Lankford’s letter.”
“What did it say?”
“It was elegant, simple, and poignant. I can’t remember the exact wording, but the message was essentially threefold: One, they are a secular, enlightened order that has existed for centuries, intervening as necessary to keep the world from descending into apocalyptic chaos. Two, they know intimate personal and professional details about Lankford and me. And three, that Yao paid the same price we will pay if our actions further jeopardize their veiled existence.”
The color in her cheeks blanched until her complexion went pale. “And you kept this information from Zhang? Why?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you first. I know Lankford. I know how he operates. With Lankford, it’s not about ego or professional accolades. Before taking any future action against the cabal, he would consult me, even if his boss said otherwise.”
“Because you were named in the letter?”
“Yes.”
“And you think Zhang wouldn’t?”
“I think Zhang might view the letter as both a boast and a challenge, while downplaying the threat. After the operation, everyone was amped up on adrenaline. We were all emotional, and that’s normal. I thought it best to let things simmer down a bit. I was worried Zhang might act impulsively without first giving him some time to decompress. If he gets upset about that decision when he gets the letter, then I know I made the right call.”
“Do you think I’m named in Zhang’s letter?” she said, her voice betraying her nerves.
He took a deep breath. “Given Major Li’s fate and your role on the task force, it would not surprise me.”
She n
odded, took the letter from him, and stood.
“You’re not going to open it?”
“No,” she said, walking over to where her purse hung on a hook by the apartment door. She placed the letter inside. “I will give it to Commander Zhang and see what he does. As you said, his reaction will tell us as much as, if not more than, the contents of the letter itself.”
Instead of coming back to the sofa, she began to pace the living room.
He’d felt the same anxiety after first reading Lankford’s letter. He watched her for a long moment before saying, “Forget about the letter. Come, sit with me.”
“I don’t like it,” she said, fingering the charm around her neck.
“I know,” he said. “Me neither.”
“They’re probably watching us right now.”
“I doubt it,” he said, with far more conviction than he felt.
“These are powerful men, Nick. They murdered Major Li without consequence. Who is to say they won’t decide to do the same to us? I don’t want to spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder and wondering when they’re coming for me.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Then how can you sit there so calmly?”
“Because I know that if they wanted us dead, we’d be dead already. I view the letter as a truce of sorts. As long as the operation in Austria stays our last and final action against the cabal, then the war is over. I accomplished my mission: Peter Yu’s body was found, Feng is dead, Yao is dead, Nèiyè Biologic is finished, and you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me. I have no intention of pursuing them. The only thing that matters to me right now is you.”
She stopped pacing and looked at him. “Do you really mean that?”
“I do.” He stood, walked to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I think it’s time we go back to what we were doing before I pulled out the letter.”
She took a deep breath, grinned, and then tipped up on her toes until her lips were a centimeter from his. “What letter?”
“I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you too,” she whispered and pressed her lips to his.
GLOSSARY
AFSOC—Air Force Special Operations Command
BC—Buoyancy Compensator
BUD/S—Basic Underwater Demolition School
CASEVAC—Casualty Evacuation
CDC—Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
CIA—Central Intelligence Agency
CONEX—Intermodal, standardized shipping container
CRISPR—Clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats (DNA editing tool pronounced “crisper”)
DB—Discovery Bay
DCER—Office of Disease Control and Emergency Response
DPV—Diver Propulsion Vehicle
Eighteen Delta—Special Forces medical technician and first responder
EMCON—Emissions Control (Radio Silence)
EOD—Explosive Ordinance Disposal
EXFIL—Exfiltrate
HALO—High Altitude-Low Opening (parachute)
HPLC—High-Performance Liquid Chromatography (analytical chemistry machine used to separate, identify, and quantify components in a sample mixture)
HUMINT—Human Intelligence
INFIL—Infiltrate
KPI—Key Performance Indicators
LCPO—Lead Chief Petty Officer
MARSOC—Marine Corps Special Operations Command
MEDEVAC—Medical Evacuation
MSS—Ministry of State Security, a.k.a. the Guoanbu, China’s intelligence and security agency (CIA analog)
NGO—Non-Governmental Organization
NOC—Non-Official Cover
NSA—National Security Administration
NVGs—Night Vision Goggles
OGA—Other Government Agency
OPSEC—Operational Security
OTK—Chinese paramilitary security contractor for hire
PDA—Personal Data Accessory
PLA—People’s Liberation Army
QRF—Quick Reaction Force
SAD—Special Activities Division
SCLU—Snow Leopard Commando Unit
SEAL—Sea, Air, and Land Teams, Naval Special Warfare
SERE—Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape
SIGINT—Signals Intelligence
SITREP—Situation Report
SOCOM—Special Operations Command
SOG—Special Operations Group
SOPMOD—Special Operations Modification
TOC—Tactical Operations Center
Unit 61398—China’s Cyber Warfare division of the PLA
W4H—Water for Humanity (The NGO Nick works for)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Prologue
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Part II
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Part III
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Glossary
