Outlaw

At hearing her name, one of the cur’s ears popped upright, but she never let her gaze stray far from the strangers who had parked their cars in the middle of her driveway. She tracked Jax’s movement as he returned to the Audi and opened the rear door to help Tan Lily climb out.

Margaret looked past the doctor at the little girl who remained hidden behind her mom. “And who might this be?”

Jax placed his hand on Tan Lily’s shoulder. “This is Doctor…”

“Not her,” Margaret said, then gestured to the little girl. “Her.”

If Tan Lily took offense to the woman’s brusque nature, she didn’t let it show. “This is my daughter, Shen Li.”

Margaret whispered something to Cher, and she scampered forward to sniff at the little girl, who giggled and tried retreating from the dog’s lapping tongue. Satisfied that Shen Li would be an acceptable houseguest, Cher nudged her with her nose, then turned and bolted into the yard in a rotary canter. She skidded to a stop after a few beats and spun to see if Shen Li was following.

“I think she wants to play,” Margaret said.

Shen Li looked up at her mother. “Can I?”

Punky could tell by the worried look on the doctor’s face that she didn’t like the idea of her daughter playing outside with only a dog watching over her — even one as large as Cher. “I can stay here with her.”

But Margaret wasn’t having it. “She is perfectly fine.”

Tan Lily gave the older woman a skeptical look. “Maybe she should stay with me. At least for today.”

“Nonsense. My house. My rules. Let the girls play.”

Punky saw the doctor bristle at the notion that a perfect stranger could dictate how she was going to parent her daughter — especially when they had been escorted to a CIA safe house by an operations officer and a special agent from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. But when Cher barked in encouragement, she relented.

“Stay where I can see…”

But Shen Li had bounded off after Cher, who gleefully fled from the girl’s pursuit.

“Great. Now, let’s get you settled,” Margaret said, turning toward the house.

Punky watched Margaret climb the steps to the front door, apparently oblivious to the barking and giggling that seemed oddly out of place for the seriousness of the moment. She traded glances with Jax, then gestured for Tan Lily to follow the older woman inside.

“Are you coming?” Margaret asked over her shoulder.

* * *

Guo Kang leaned back into the Audi’s bolstered seats and slapped the steering wheel’s paddle shifter to drop the sport wagon into a lower gear. The tuned German engine surged instantaneously, and he weaved into the left lane and passed several motorists who drove like they were on perpetual vacation. The deepening blue skies hid behind a thin layer of clouds he might have found beautiful if he took the time to appreciate it.

But the General hadn’t sent him to Valley Center to enjoy the scenery.

He had sent him to find Tan Lily. And her daughter.

Finding the safe house had been easier than he expected. After providing Ministry technicians with the two license plates he had memorized, they went to work scouring government databases to discover whom the vehicles belonged to. Names, residences, liens. The driver of the Audi S3 had done a good job of hiding that information, and the technicians found nothing but a black hole. But the woman in the Dodge Challenger, not so much.

Fucking amateur.

The ninety-thousand-dollar car was purchased with cash and registered to a woman named Emmy King who lived on the island enclave of Coronado. A very rudimentary follow-on search by the technicians uncovered all manner of information about the woman who had followed him to Torrey Pines Elementary School. She was a San Diego native and had gone to college at the University of Southern California — which explained the “FIGHTON” license plate — where she played water polo, before graduating and joining the Naval Criminal Investigative Service as a special agent. She didn’t have much of a social life, but her favorite beer was an Aloha Sculpin IPA from Ballast Point Brewing, and she frequently paired it with Pla Choo Che to-go from Swaddee Thai Restaurant on C Avenue.

But the best discovery made by the Ministry technicians was complete access to Mopar’s Electronic Vehicle Tracking System. Without any effort at all, he had been able to follow the Dodge Challenger north from La Jolla without putting himself at risk of being spotted.

Guo Kang wrapped the Audi around tight bends into the rocky hills east of the interstate, making his approach to the intersection where his quarry had exited the road. As he neared, he slowed and drove past the gated entrance to an upscale fly-in community, studying the security measures put in place to deter only the most casual of criminals — an automatic gate that could be accessed through a control panel or RF transmitter, a white estate fence bordering the property, and a handful of security cameras that were easily defeated.

This will be child’s play.