Chapter Five
Sarah settled into her second—or third?—plane seat, her body weary, mind racing. Time was beginning to do funny things. She’d been in the air too long. She no longer knew what day it was, and the only reason she knew she was leaving Paris was because of the signs she’d passed on her way to make her final connection back to the U.S. Where she would see Rand again.
Her mind kept circling that fact, but she had no idea what to do with it.
She’d seen him again.
Touched him.
Kissed him.
They’d…what? Had sex? Fucked? It wasn’t making love, though the way he’d held her after spoke of some feeling. Where Rand was concerned, her emotions were complicated. She loved the man she’d known, but they weren’t the same anymore. She cared for him, still felt something, but she couldn’t name it.
She didn’t know what they were or what to call what’d happened between them. Maybe in debriefing, she’d get a handle for what was going on. If she saw him at all. She’d just assumed that she would. For all she knew, Rand was already gone and out of her life permanently.
What would Matt say?
She couldn’t tell Matt she’d seen Rand.
Sarah chewed her nail and stared out of the window. The plane slowly taxied out to the runway.
Maybe this time she’d sleep. And maybe pigs would fly—she hardly ever slept on planes.
Fuck.
This whole mess was all her fault, somehow.
She took a motion sickness bag from the seat pocket in front of her and a pen she’d taken from the flight counter. She’d never understood Rand’s use for lists until after he was out of her life. The first time she’d made one, she’d felt silly, and in desperate need for his shoulder to lean on. But he’d already left. So she’d jotted down everything she needed to do to keep the family going, and that was it. Now, lists helped put everything into perspective.
What did she know?
She’d arrived in Seoul and done precisely as she always did. Got some food, tried to read a local paper in a vain attempt to better her Korean, and when her alarm went off, she’d started into the city.
At a certain point outside the airport, she’d turned and caught sight of a man she thought she recognized. It’d been the way he’d held his head—stiffly, not quite looking at her, but he could clearly see her sort of manner. He’d been maybe ten feet away, and he’d given her the creeps.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to get wibbly-wobbly nerves from time to time. She was an American woman traveling alone in sometimes dangerous parts of the world. In all her time couriering for the company, she’d never run into anything bad. It was moments like those she used her training. One of the things she’d held onto was the techniques they’d taught her about how to spot a tail, how to lose one, and so forth.
When she’d doubled back and circled a block only to see the same man still behind her, she’d panicked and made the call to let the company know she feared she was being followed. From there, a quick progression of events led her to the tea shop. She’d scurry away, hide, make the call, wait, then move, only to see her pursuers again. That had led to her being counseled to get rid of her phone and everything else on her.
From the tea shop and running into Rand until now was all reactionary.
There was someone within the company they couldn’t trust.
Rand insisted his handler Hector was safe, but just in case, their escape was coordinated through a third-party group—other private contractors like Rand. Sarah hadn’t asked questions. She didn’t need to know who was helping them, only that they were safe and headed back to the States where her part in this would be over.
Christ, what was she going to tell her day-job boss?
She’d missed her flight to China. There’d be no one onsite to facilitate this week’s meeting or translate the particulars of the new water plant. Talk about terrible timing. Maybe she’d get lucky, and Lin would be able to hop over and cover for her.
What was going to happen to her? Her job? Her future?
When this had all begun, she’d just assumed nothing bad would ever happen to her. She was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Now, the rug had been yanked out from under her and the last person she’d have expected to catch her was there.
Rand.
What the fuck?
What was she going to do about him?
Sarah stared down at her list, made in a jumbled mix of short hand, Mandarin, and a few Thai characters. To anyone else, she might as well be drawing pictures, some sort of weird mandala, but she could pick out the items, the list, the habit she’d developed because of him.
Rand had kissed her back.
What had come after she didn’t regret, per se, but it hadn’t been wise, either.
She didn’t know this man, not really. He’d changed. And though in the moment he’d seemed like her Rand, he wasn’t, and chances were, he never would be again.
They’d had sex. It couldn’t happen again.
Granted, she didn’t exactly expect him to stick around. Why would he? When Matt had needed him the most, he’d left. Why would she ever think she’d rate a second thought from Rand Duncan?
…
Young-sik traversed the hall, keeping on the balls of his feet. Despite the cool air pumping into the apartment building, he was sweating. And why wouldn’t he be?
He was proud of the work he did for his country, but even he knew this was likely a suicide mission. There were two other men getting into place so they could attempt to flank Wei. In his own home.
It was too coincidental that Wei would arrive at the same time they were tracking the girl. Except he hadn’t gone after her at all.
Young-sik needed to know what Wei was after that they didn’t know about.
“Any movement on the east side?” Young-sik whispered into the radio.
“None.”
This was a bold move. It was dangerous. And chances were, at least one of his men would die, but if they were able to obtain information that would lead them to the traitor within their midst then it was worth it.
Now, all they had to do was wait for the right moment.
…
Rand tapped his fingers, mentally counting the minutes since he’d left Seoul, calculating how long it might take the MI6 team to extract his asset. He hated these cross-agency gigs and leaving that part of his job up to someone else, much less another intel group, but it couldn’t be helped.
MSS agents had laid eyes on Rand and Sarah. They could never go back, not for quite some time, without risking their lives.
At least this way, Rand’s assets were getting a faster extradition. They’d never wanted to go to America in the first place. He was pretty sure they’d always intended to flee to the UK, so in the greater picture, this simply expedited the process. He hoped to be part of the joint team that would work with his asset, but that was likely a company matter and he was only a contractor.
He was doing it again. Focusing on the job instead of everything else.
For the last eight years, he’d used the job to get by, to cope with everything he’d left behind. Now he was on a one-way flight to face what he feared most.
A ticked-off, angry Sarah.
He could say that it’d been a perfect storm. That his need for human touch, the high stress of the situation, and their history had combined to create a fuck-or-fight scenario, but deep down he knew he was lying. She represented better days, a life he’d liked, and he wasn’t good enough to turn his back on something he shouldn’t have just because it was the right thing to do. This time, he’d face the consequences, unlike last time with Matt.
Just a few more hours.
Which meant he needed to sleep now, because when the plane landed it’d be balls to the wall.
…
Zhang Wei felt the subtle pressure change, the disturbance in the flow of energy through the apartment. He tilted his head, waiting.
Someone—someones—were in his home.
Meditation would have to wait.
Whoever these intruders were, they’d bypassed the security system, which meant they were better than the average would-be thief.
Wei remained seated in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave him a view of his balcony covered in greenery, listening to the subtle, almost silent sounds.
The two in the entry had paused, their breathing giving them away. A third crept through the front room, the gentle whish of feet through the plush rug betraying him. Judging by the weight of their steps, they were male, trained but not comfortable in their surroundings.
The whisk of a blade leaving its sheath was the loudest sound in the room.
It would be foolish for them to bring guns.
The one man was the strongest of the three, probably their leader. Wei wouldn’t kill him, just maim him a bit. The other two were fair game.
He waited until he glimpsed a shadow out of his left eye.
Wei tugged the dagger in his boot loose, twisted, and rose to one knee, hurling the throwing knife. The wet slick of the blade slicing through flesh, the splatter of blood, and the man’s gurgle were music to Wei’s ears.
The other man froze, gaping at his fallen comrade.
Wei didn’t hesitate.
He vaulted over the sofa, kicking out, and struck the second man in the chest, knocking him back against the wall. Wei yanked the knife out of the fallen man’s throat and slashed at the second.
The third man yelled something—Korean? Figures—and charged around, through the galley kitchen.
The crackle of a Taser only made Wei grin.
Please. He’d had more dangerous toys as a child.
The man jabbed the Taser toward Wei. He grasped the man’s wrist, twisted his arm, sidestepped, and slashed the knife across the back of his attacker’s thighs.
The Taser clattered to the ground, the man screaming.
That was likely to annoy the neighbors. He stomped on the guy’s neck, cutting off the scream.
The leader of the little group charged around the corner. Wei grabbed his arm and rammed the man up against the wall, twisting his limb up behind his back.
This was going to be fun.
…
Sarah smoothed her hands down the borrowed sweatpants, her stomach in knots. This was far, far above her pay grade. Before this, all of her briefings were done in a suite several floors above Wishing Well’s headquarters. Besides her initial training, she’d never been to an official company site. That’d been years ago.
She turned right, following the numbers until she saw 122.
She’d woken up to a piece of paper under her door telling her to join them “at her earliest convenience.” For some reason, that casual wording made her nervous.
Muted voices on the other side weren’t easy to make out. Two or three people? She couldn’t be certain.
Was Rand gone? Was he here? She hadn’t seen him since they’d parted ways at the Seoul airport.
She pulled the door open and conversation ceased.
Rand and two others stopped speaking and stared at her.
Sarah swallowed and forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. She was supposed to be here. She had to be here.
“Sarah, Mitch McConnel.” A lean man with ash blond hair stood and thrust his hand forward, a polite smile tugging at his lips. He had one of those ageless faces, and the paleness of his hair hid a liberal sprinkling of gray. “No relation to the senator.”
“Hi.” She was woefully underdressed in the sweats and a T-shirt. Even Rand had on jeans and a button-down.
“I’m Charlie’s handler.” All of the warmth left Mitch’s face.
Oh, no…
What had happened to Charlie? Why was he looking at her like that?
“This is Hector Martinez, he works with Rand, who you already know. Sit, please.”
“Is Charlie okay?” She gripped the back of the closest chair.
“He hasn’t missed his contact window yet.” Mitch’s expression didn’t soften. It was hard, as though he were expecting the worst.
What weren’t they telling her?
“Ms. Collins?” Hector pulled out a seat.
“Thanks.” She sat, still at a loss for what to think. “Where’s Irene? Shouldn’t she be here?”
“Irene took some personal time,” Hector said.
“Oh.” Sarah didn’t know her handler beyond the few times a year they handed off the briefcase.
Yes, Sarah had known the risks, that what she transported was valuable, but she’d never really expected this. Charlie…
She swallowed.
A warm hand wrapped around hers.
She glanced at Rand sitting to her left, but he didn’t look at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand while he stared at a piece of paper in front of them.
“Let’s get to it,” Mitch said. “Four days ago, these men followed Sarah from the airport in Seoul to her drop location. We were able to get a clear enough visual that we could place one of them. This man.”
A cold, hard set of eyes stared back at them from an image projected onto the wall.
Sarah swallowed.
The man in plaid.
“His name is Kim Young-sik, a known MSS agent who operates outside of North Korea. I imagine the other two men work for him. We lost track of Young-sik, but he’s not our main concern. This man is.”
The image of a man wearing a long business coat, hat, and sunglasses took Young-sik’s place.
“Oh, God,” Sarah whispered. She turned her hand in Rand’s hold and squeezed.
“Who is it?” Rand asked.
“No one really knows. The only alias we have for him is Zhang Wei, but chances are it’s only what he’s using now.” Mitch sat back in his chair, staring at the image.
“He has too many names.” Sarah glanced at Rand. “He’s something of a spook. A Chinese ghost story. If you do something the government doesn’t like, you’ll get a visit from the Silent Man.”
“How do you know that’s him?” Rand leaned forward, letting go of her hand, and peered at the screen.
“Because he doesn’t exist on any passenger manifest,” Mitch said. “The South Koreans are cooperating with us, but they lost sight of him and can’t place him on any flight in or out of the country.”
“He can’t just disappear. He has the briefcase, doesn’t he?” Sarah glanced between Mitch and Hector. That was the only logical line of thought.
“Yes.” Mitch flipped to another image of the same man carrying her briefcase.
“Shit.” Sarah pulled her feet up in the chair and leaned back. “But they can’t open it, that’s good, right?”
“That’s what we were hoping you could shine some light on.” Mitch turned, leaning forward. “Usually, Irene would be here and part of this, but she’s unavailable right now. We need you to run down the specs on the case.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” She’d always been told to never disclose the specs, but these men worked for the company. They needed to know, right? Still, divulging this much information went against what little training she had. “It’s biometric and infrared.”
“What?” Hector frowned.
“I have a lower than average body temperature. The theory is that I have to be alive to open the case.”
“Is it password enabled?” Mitch asked.
“Yes.”
“What’s the password?”
“I can’t tell you that.” She winced, but her instructions were clear. No one could know the password in case the biometric precaution could be circumvented.
“Tell me.” Mitch leaned forward, his kind gaze going hard.
“I can’t. Not even Irene knows the password.”
“Mitch, back off,” Hector said. He pushed off the wall and stepped into Sarah’s peripheral vision. He sank into the chair on Sarah’s other side, his hand braced on the conference table. “Sarah?”
All eyes were on her. She held the keys, but the problem was, they weren’t the kind she could hand over.
She shifted and Rand let go of her hand. “Telling you the password won’t do anything. Without me, no one can open the case.”
“And without the case, no one can contact our assets in Asia. You see why we need the password?” Mitch extended his hand across the table toward her.
“Then we need the briefcase back.” It sounded like such an easy task, yet Sarah had no illusions about how difficult that would be.
“It wouldn’t have been lost if you’d kept it on you, like you were supposed to.” Mitch sat back, his lips curled in a grimace.
“What?” Sarah frowned. “I followed protocol.”
“No, protocol is to never let the information out of your hands.” Mitch jabbed his finger against the table top.
“No, protocol is to secure the briefcase—then make the drop.” Sarah glanced between Rand and Hector. They were both looking at her funny.
“Goddamn it,” Mitch muttered.
“Let me see if I can’t find Irene.” Hector got to his feet.
Sarah desperately hoped they could get Irene on the phone or here in person to clear this up. She didn’t like the idea of telling them more, because what if what Rand said was right, and they had someone on their team working against them?
She wasn’t going to utter another word about the specs or the double-password system. They didn’t need to know more than what she’d already told them, which was that without her, the case was completely and totally secure.
…
“Hector? Hold up.” Rand jogged down the hall. The four-hour debriefing was one long, grueling practice in dodging punches. He wasn’t sure what Mitch or Hector were after, but they were sure as hell looking for something.
“You should get some rest. You look like shit.” Hector lumbered forward.
“When can I get back? Do we have any word on my assets?”
“MI6 is taking care of it, you know that.”
“Yeah, but they’re my people.”
“Not anymore.”
“Hector, please?” Rand stepped in front of his handler and stopped, forcing the giant of a man to halt in the middle of the empty hallway.
“We’ve got bigger problems than a couple of assets,” Hector said quietly.
Rand glanced over Hector’s shoulder. The meeting room doors were still shut. Sarah? Or Mitch?
“Follow me.” Hector nodded down the hall. Rand fell in line with him, anxious to know more. Now.
“You known Sarah long?” Hector asked.
“Almost my whole life.”
“You two close, or…?”
“We were once. Why?”
“This way.” Hector didn’t answer his question, and Rand didn’t ask again.
The CIA location he’d been taken to after checking in to a hotel to create a fake paper trail was some distance outside of D.C., in what appeared to be an office building. It was the first time Rand had been to this location, but he recognized a training site when he saw it. He was willing to bet they were between classes or sessions, because other than the four of them, he’d seen maybe three other humans, none of whom made eye contact.
They couldn’t admit to knowing what they hadn’t seen.
Hector took Rand deeper into the building, to some sort of break room. “Coffee?” Hector plopped one of those single serve cups into a machine and hit a button.
“No, thanks.” Rand leaned against the wall. “What does Sarah have to do with all of this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“Hector, don’t fuck with me right now.”
If Sarah’s life was in danger, Rand had to know. She was his responsibility. His friend. His…something. They’d stopped being just childhood friends and adolescent crushes the moment they’d laid eyes on each other in that pharmacy. From that moment on, he’d known he’d give his life to protect hers, and he’d kill to do it.
“I honestly don’t know. Beyond her connection to the briefcase, I have no clue.”
Rand waited, watching Hector doctor his drink until it was practically sugar water flavored with a hint of coffee.
“What do we know, Rand? What’s top of your list?”
“Someone burned Sarah.” And he’d left her alone. Upstairs. It was a CIA facility. In theory, she should be fine. But right now, he didn’t trust much of anyone that wasn’t him or Sarah.
“Why would someone want to burn a courier?”
“I…don’t know.”
“What does she know?”
“No clue.”
“Who does she know?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Exactly.” Hector sipped his coffee. “Her file is anemic. Everything I know about her I could fit on a sticky note, and for someone who has been with the company this long, we should have more documentation about her. So, answer me this—what don’t the higher-ups want us to know about your friend Sarah?”
“I. Don’t. Know.” And Rand didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“Neither do I. You aren’t going to like this, but…I’m going to assign you as her protective detail. You’ve got history together. Maybe you’ll be able to feel her out better than someone else, get her to talk. She’s not telling us everything, either because she’s under orders not to, or she’s got something to hide.”
Rand nodded. No, he didn’t like that this was how the job was going to go, but he wouldn’t want to entrust her safety to anyone else. As far as he could tell, Sarah was a victim here.
“I want you to stay close to her. I can’t go around saying we can’t trust our own people, but Mitch and I are in agreement that this needs to be handled quietly and as off the books as possible.”
“Can we trust Mitch?”
“He was in politics before he came to the CIA. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out what that guy’s thinking.” Hector shrugged.
“If you thought you could, we’d be having this conversation with him right now.”
Hector sipped his coffee.
“And Irene?”
“Now there’s a question.” Hector sighed. “I don’t know her that well, and I’ve worked in the same building as her for a couple years now.”
“I need to get back to Sarah.”
“I agree. Stick to her like glue. I’ll let you know when MI6 clears your assets as safe. Should be any day now. Don’t worry, they’ll make it.”
Rand paced toward the door, wheeled around and back. “What’s the deal with Mitch? Why is he in on this? Who is he?”
“Charlie Peterson is the company’s man over our people in Asia.”
“I don’t know of him.”
“Because you’re a contractor.”
“But he knows Sarah?”
“She’s a company employee. Part-time sort of deal.”
“So Sarah takes information from Mitch to Charlie? And others like me?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“So that’s a yes.” Rand stopped and stared at his reflection in the glass of one of those motivational posters on the wall. That was why the briefcase was so important. Whatever she was transporting for the company would be locked in there, and she’d open it only to make a drop. At a glance, it was an easy gig, but it made her a target in a way Rand didn’t like. And then there was the fact that Sarah had asked about Charlie. By name. As if she were familiar with him. “Charlie hasn’t made contact, and though it’s not outside of normal parameters, you’re worried he’s compromised?”
Hector spread his free hand and lifted his shoulders.
He wouldn’t confirm or deny Rand’s assumptions, but he’d been around long enough to know how to read between the lines. Hector, and other direct employees of the company, would say as little as possible. It often made Rand’s job frustrating, but it was necessary.
“He was involved with Sarah?” He hated this Charlie person on principle.
“That I do not know.”
“But, what? Mitch said something? He didn’t say something? He asked a question?” Rand watched Hector’s face, looking for the minute twinge. A micro expression that would betray the other man’s thoughts. “He asked a question about Sarah or Charlie that made you believe they are—or were—involved.”
Fuck.
Sarah. With someone else.
He was too raw to think about it. To accept it. Hours ago he’d had her under him, been inside her, and thinking about her with another man, allowing him that kind of contact—it was too much.
“I’m going to go find Sarah.” Rand wheeled around.
This time, his thoughts didn’t stop him; they drove him on. First, he’d find her. Then, he’d secure her somewhere. And lastly, they’d talk. Or something.
He went up, past the main floor to the section that comprised the bunk rooms. Places for people like them to stay for short spans of time. They were a little better than single-occupancy dorm rooms.
Either she was done with Mitch, or would be soon.
Rand strode down the hall, passing the room he’d stumbled into long enough for a catnap and a wash-up. A thin line of light shone under a door a quarter of the way down the hall past his. He paused, tapping on it with his knuckles. “Sarah?”
She didn’t answer, but shadows moved under the door, blocking out more of the light.
The door opened and she stared up at him, dark circles under her eyes, lines bracketing her mouth. Rand crowded her into the room, nudging the door shut with his foot.
He needed to touch her, to assure himself that she was at least physically okay. He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her up against his chest.
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.
He didn’t dare squeeze her too tight or say anything. Who knew who was listening? If the person who’d burned her was part of the company, who wasn’t to say that the room was bugged?
“Rand, I—”
“Shh.” He stroked her hair. “You haven’t had a shower since Seoul.”
She blinked at him, frowning.
He laid his finger over her lips.
She no longer smelled of his shampoo, which told him she had, indeed, showered at some point. If they were being listened to, the person on the other end of the bug might not know that and even if they did, so what? The bathroom was still the best-equipped room in a structure with counter-surveillance equipment built in.
“Let me help you with that. I know your arm hurts.”
Sarah closed her mouth, brows drawn down.
“I haven’t had a chance to catch American news for a while. Mind if I turn it on?”
“Not at all,” she said.
He flipped the small, flat screen TV on and turned up the volume. That done, he ushered her into the small bathroom and turned on both the shower and sink.
“What the hell, Rand?” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, the bandage on her forearm a stark reminder they weren’t kids playing hide and seek anymore. Besides, Rand wasn’t looking forward to a face-to-face with Matt any time soon.
“In case someone’s listening,” he whispered.
Her brows rose and her jaw went slack.
“It pays to be safe.” He leaned against the vanity and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What’s going on?” She dropped her arms, shoulders slumping.
“I don’t know, but we’re in this together. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her gaze dropped to the tile floor. She’d held herself together so well, never balking at what he asked her to do, never crying or being too scared. She’d grown into such a remarkable woman. So strong and brave. Much like her brother.
“Come here.” Rand held out his hand.
She walked straight into him, her face buried against his chest, her arms clutching him tight.
“Here’s what we know: someone burned you. Likely, that same person sold the briefcase’s location to the Chinese, and now we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, but we got this.” He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. It was late. They were exhausted. And the stress of it all was immense. She’d do better after a night of real sleep.
“But…what about everyone else? All the people who relied on me? What about them? And your assets?”
“My people are being taken care of. The company will work on contacting everyone else. That’s not your fault.” He didn’t doubt for a second that Sarah was an innocent in all of this. She had no idea what she’d gotten involved with. When he found out who’d sold her out, he’d make them pay.
No one hurt his Sarah.