Point of Contact

She was a loyal sister, and clearly her brother opposed the merger. But she was also a loyal daughter, and her father wanted it. And she was a trained security professional. Was she merely bouncing between conflicting loyalties, or was she playing some kind of game with him? And if she was playing a game, what game?

She was ethnic Chinese, at least in part. Could she possibly be working for them? What better way to infiltrate Dalfan security than by recruiting her?

But if she was a Chinese spy, she wasn’t very good at her job. A real spy would try to put him at ease, not express constant hostility.

Unless that was her game.

Jack swore to himself. He didn’t have a clue. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he sounded a little paranoid.

Jack touched her arm and tugged on it — gently. She turned around.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what the hell is going on. If you really weren’t part of this, well, I guess I’m an idiot.”

She didn’t soften. “No guessing is required.”

Park came back in. “A man will be here first thing in the morning to make the repairs.”

Lian looked at the door. “What about that?”

Jack picked up a chair and shoved it against the creaking door. “We’ll be fine tonight. Don’t worry about it.”

“I suspect those policemen made quite a mess upstairs. Do you need Park’s help cleaning up?”

“No, we’ll manage.” Jack softened. “And thanks for stopping by. Otherwise, we’d be in jail right now.”

“You will both be coming to the office tomorrow morning, then?”

“Soon as your guy fixes the door.”

“Very well.” She turned to leave.

“Hey, let me make it up to you. I know a place downtown that serves a great mai tai.”

Lian offered a sad little smile. “I don’t think so.”

Jack saw Park fighting back a smirk. Loser. He fought the urge to backhand it off the Korean’s sneering face.

“Good night,” Lian said over her shoulder, heading for the front door. Park threw Jack one last mocking look as he turned to follow her.

Jack started to say something but decided there wasn’t room in his mouth for any more feet.

38

A bomb had exploded in Paul’s room.

Or so it seemed to him as he stood in the doorway, examining the wreckage.

He stormed past the socks, underwear, bedsheets, hangers, pillows, and suits scattered across the bedroom floor. He stopped to pick up the framed photo of Carmen he kept at his bedside, and set it back on the dresser — even though the glass was cracked — and marched straight for the bathroom.

An empty plastic pill bottle cracked as he stepped on it while reaching for the spring-loaded shower curtain rod lying on the floor. He picked up the end of the rod closest to him. The rubber cap was off. He turned the rod around, pulled the other cap off, and reached into it with one of his chubby fingers, struggling to try and reach something. It took several attempts, but he finally pulled out a clump of toilet paper pinched between his finger and the side of the rod and tossed it. He tilted the rod even farther down, and the USB drive Rhodes had given him slid out.

Paul let out a sigh of relief. Lucky for him whichever cop was searching in here was too lazy to check both ends, or maybe that’s when the lieutenant called them all down. Either way, Paul could breathe easier now. Time was running out for him to finish the mission, but it would be immeasurably more difficult, he told himself, if he lost the USB drive altogether. He held the drive in the palm of his hand.

“What’s that?” Jack asked, looking at all of the pill bottles and toiletries scattered over the floor. “And what the hell happened in here?”

Paul glanced up, startled. “This? Nothing. Just a USB drive.”

“That you hid in the shower curtain rod?”

“This? No. It was in my pocket. I was checking out the shower curtain rod to make sure they weren’t trying to plant any drugs on us.”

Jack picked up an empty bottle of Tylenol. All of the little white tablets that used to be in it were scattered all over the floor and on the counter.

“Somebody doesn’t want us around.”

“Yong?” Paul stood with a grunt, using the tub for leverage.

“Or Lian. Or both. Or somebody else. Who knows?”

“I don’t think it’s Lian. She seems… smitten.”

“What? No. Trust me.”

Trust you? Paul thought. He glanced at the floor. “This place won’t clean itself up. We better get started.”

Jack surveyed the damage. “Do you want me to help? We can do your room first, then hit mine.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take care of my room on my own. I like things in a certain order.”

“I understand. I think I’m gonna get something to drink first.”

Paul looked around at the disaster that awaited him. “Good idea.”

* * *