by Toby Neal
“I need to make sure you’re bug-free,” Ellie said. Sophie extended her arms. Smith wanded her with a detection device, and nothing beeped.
“That’s a relief. Glad I’m clear.”
“Well, I would hope so. But you can’t be too careful. In fact, since we were away, let me do the room again.” Smith walked around and checked the room one more time. Finally, the agent drew the drapes so that no distance equipment could be employed to pick up the conversation.
“And to think these would have seemed like excessive precautions at one time,” Frank said. “I know it’s early, Sophie, but would you like something to drink?”
“Just a soda, Dad.”
He brought her a carbonated beverage, and finally, the three of them sat in the living area.
“Some weeks ago, I was contacted by someone who asked me to meet at Hilo Bay Park. Said it was something to do with my mother.” Sophie leaned forward, cupping the soft drink can in her hands.
“Your mother? What would there be to say about her? She’s in that facility in Thailand.” Frank frowned.
“That’s exactly what I thought. In fact, if Auntie Malee had not kept me informed every six months or so, I would have no news of Mother at all. So, of course I was curious to see what this could be about, and who could possibly have the number for my latest burner phone. Fewer than ten people in the world would have the number.” Sophie took a sip of her drink, her throat suddenly dry. “I went to the park with our dogs. Jake was with me at that time, and we had picked up a rescue dog. I ran the park with Ginger and Tank, and I tried to get a read on who it could be. Then, an old woman spoke to me from one of the benches.” With an effort, Sophie kept her hand from trembling as she set down the soda can. “The woman was my mother, Pim Wat. She was in disguise.”
“Unbelievable.” Frank’s eyebrows rose high on his broad brow. He uncoiled to his full height and stalked over to the bar. “I think I need another drink. Ellie?”
“No thank you. I’m still on the clock. Go on, Sophie.” Unlike the two of them, Ellie Smith was perfectly calm, her legs crossed, swinging one of her gracefully shod feet. “I didn’t know that your ex-wife…got out much, Ambassador.”
“She doesn’t. And that’s why this is so astonishing. Over the years, Pim Wat has become more and more of a shut-in. She was institutionalized after a suicide attempt more than a year ago.” Frank tossed back his drink. “I’m as surprised as Sophie must’ve been that she would make contact, and be physically present in the United States. Her depression is completely debilitating.”
Her father was clearly every bit as deceived as Sophie had been about her mother’s true level of functioning. There was comfort in that. “She looked exactly the same, Dad. I had not seen her in nine years, and she hadn’t aged a day even though she was dressed as an old woman. She pulled it off perfectly. I completely failed to spot her.” Now Sophie got up to pace. “She was neither friendly nor apologetic—none of the things I might have expected after such a long separation. She proposed that I join the Yām Khûmkạn, an ancient clandestine organization that guards the Thai royal family. She said my skills were needed to combat threats from cyber terrorists.”
Frank swiveled to face Sophie fully. He stared in consternation. “I don’t understand.”
“Mother has been living a double life,” Sophie said. “She isn’t actually depressed.”
Frank cursed. “Impossible.”
“It sounds like your mother was attempting to recruit you,” Ellie said.
“Exactly. Are you familiar with the Yām Khûmkạn?” Sophie asked.
“Yes. They are Thailand’s equivalent of the CIA, or Israel’s Mossad—but the organization is different in that it has been around for hundreds of years and is focused on the royal family, rather than serving the government in general. There is an almost religious, cult-like association within the organization. They have done an excellent job keeping a low profile, but we monitor them closely because aspects of what they do are like the Secret Service. They protect and guard Thailand’s royal family, as you mentioned, as well as looking after their interpretation of the country’s interests. But they don’t answer to the regime currently in power, nor any political faction, which means they’re basically a rogue group.” Ellie accepted the soft drink Frank handed her and took a sip. “We also have reason to believe that the Yām Khûmkạn is behind several important international assassinations.”
Frank was still shaking his head, the slow, dumbfounded movements of someone whose world has been rocked. “No. Not Pim Wat. She is…to put it kindly, a delicate flower. So easily stressed. Her depression was truly a disease. I saw it too clearly for it to be faked.”
“Mother admitted that she really was ill at times, but not as debilitated as she pretended.” Sophie rubbed her temples, her eyes closed as she recalled the painful, shocking conversation in the park. “She said she was chosen by the organization to marry you, Dad, so they could have intel on the United States. But Pim Wat was quote, ‘not up to the task,’ unquote. She told me that she should never have been a mother, that she wasn’t up to that either.”
“That bitch!” Frank said. “I should never have stayed with her as long as I did, but every time I tried to leave, she threatened suicide. Told me how terrible that would be for you.”
“She blackmailed you, Dad. She blackmailed me, too, with the same thing.” Sophie looked up into her father’s devastated gaze.
He turned away to stare at the artwork on the wall, clearly unable to make eye contact any longer. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I had my work; I couldn’t be there for you enough, but I stayed in the marriage until you were old enough to go away to school, where I hoped you’d get consistent care and exposure to the wider world. She wouldn’t let me take you to the United States. Believe me, I just wanted to take you home.” Her father’s words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other, pressured by pain. “So now you’re telling me that she was using me. Spying for the Yām Khûmkạn through my diplomatic position.”
“Yes, Dad. That’s why I asked for this meeting with you in person, and with Agent Smith as a witness. I don’t want to be accused of being a security breach for even speaking with her. I knew how it could look, especially given the last couple of years in my personal life. That’s why I’m throwing myself on your mercy, Ellie.” Sophie turned to meet the woman’s cool blue gaze. “Mother’s tracked me down again since this first approach, via Security Solutions, and is asking for an answer. Rather than just shutting her down, I thought this might be an opportunity.”
A long pause, as Ellie considered. “What kind of opportunity?”
“I could join the organization and feed you information from inside. Just as she did.” Sophie was not sorry for the bitterness that colored her words. “It’s even possible Mother still has some access to sensitive information through you, Dad. We need to identify any leaks and turn them against her.”
“Why would she think she could make this appeal to you? Why would she think you would even consider it, when she has been such a poor parent?” Ellie cocked her head, inquiring.
“Because I always tried to do what she wanted. I tried to be a good daughter, so she could get well. She had much power over me in my early years.” Sophie bit her tongue on sharing that her mother had virtually sold Sophie to her abusive ex, Assan Ang, in exchange for connections with the underworld in Hong Kong. Her father would be deeply hurt by that knowledge, and there was no point in doing that to him.
“Dammit to hell!” Frank was clearly struggling with his emotions as he strode back and forth. “I want to see her locked up. When I think of all the years I loved her, tried to help her…and she was just using me! Using us!”
There was nothing Sophie could say to make this any better. She had guessed how painful this might be for her father, akin to the shattering betrayal she herself had first experienced, driving her deep into the depression—all the way to a dark place where only Jake had been able to
bring her back.
She shut down the memory of how he had done so.
“This is above my pay grade,” Ellie said. “I have to get in touch with my supervisor, and likely, he will want you to talk to the CIA. If Pim Wat knows you’ve talked to your dad, all of our opportunities to manipulate her information stream will be lost. This opportunity will be lost. You have to string her along for the moment.”
“I am not in a good position to be talking with anyone right now. I’m on leave from Witness Protection today to speak with you two,” Sophie said.
“Well, when you can, I think you should contact her. Tell her you are angry about the personal failures between you. Try to get her to apologize. Make her wriggle on the hook a bit, to use a fishing metaphor. And when we have a solid plan, you can set up a meeting with her.”
“No! Sophie has suffered enough! I won’t allow it. I won’t allow Sophie’s life to be endangered, her emotions manipulated any more by that woman and her organization. Enough already!” Frank’s face was dark with rage.
“Dad. I’m a grown woman. I make my own decisions,” Sophie said calmly. “I can handle this. I’ve been through worse.”
“And even that can be laid at your mother’s door!” Frank stomped to the bedroom and went inside, slamming the connecting door shut.
Sophie met Ellie Smith’s eyes. “I know how he feels. But he will eventually see that this is one of those times where one side of the coin is danger, and the other is opportunity. The best revenge I could get on my mother is to use her in the interests of my country.”
“Thailand is also your country,” Ellie said gently. “You have no loyalty to Thailand? To your Thai relatives?”
“I love Thailand. I do feel a connection to the place, the land, the culture. But I don’t feel any connection to the royal family, the government, or even most of my relatives besides my Aunt Malee, my mother’s younger sister.” Sophie blew out a breath. “I was sent away to boarding school when I was twelve, and I never really returned. Maybe all of that was due to my mother’s machinations. The United States has accepted me, nurtured me, given me a place to grow, thrive and belong.”
“That’s good enough for me, but it might not be good enough for the CIA,” Ellie said drily. “Keep that burner phone charged, and in range. Where are you staying?”
“I cannot tell you that. I’m involved in a WITSEC case, as I said, guarding a witness at a secure location. But I will check in with you periodically, if I don’t hear from you first. And I will reach out to my mother, as you suggest. Make her grovel a bit.” Sophie’s smile felt like a feral baring of teeth. “I will enjoy that.”
“You deserve that, at least.”
“I just hope Dad has someone to talk to about all this.” Worry contracted Sophie’s brow.
“He talks to me. We are friends. It will be all right.” Ellie sounded absolutely confident.
Sophie nodded. She had to hope that was true. She left, shutting the door gently behind her and keeping the ugly ball cap pulled low as she exited the hotel room.
Chapter Seventeen
Byron Chang laced his fingers over his belly and tipped back his chair. “So. You’re telling me that you’ve made two attempts on those witnesses, and come up short?”
The assassin he’d had to hire, now that Akane was in prison, was a nondescript little Filipino man. The Lizard sported a tonsure of gray hair around a balding pate, wore horn-rimmed glasses, and he had a habit of stroking one hand over the other, as if handling a pet. The man appeared wiry and strong, though, and might have been younger than his current appearance. According to his dark net website, the Lizard was well-versed in disguise, spoke multiple languages, and could kill with any number of methods.
But he was damned expensive.
“I’m glad I only paid you half of your ridiculous fee,” Byron said. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re the right man for the job.”
The Lizard shifted in his chair, innocuous, but the narrowing of the man’s mild brown eyes made the hair rise on the back of Byron’s neck. “Both of your witnesses are in the U.S. Marshals Witness Protection Program now, which wasn’t in our original contract and compounds the challenges. There’s a back door into that organization, though, and I should be able to locate them and complete the contract within the week. I need more money to buy the information.”
“You took this job as a bid. You have your first half. You should have budgeted accordingly. This is already triple what I usually pay for a hit.” Byron missed Akane’s skills more every week that went by with his brother in prison.
The little man flew around Byron’s desk, knocked his chair backwards to the floor, and pressed Byron’s own letter opener against his jugular so quickly that Byron hadn’t even been able to follow the motion. “Do you want to live, Mr. Chang?”
The sibilant voice in his ear froze Byron even more than the sensation of a major artery throbbing against the razor-sharp point of the letter opener. “You’ll never get away with killing me,” Byron managed to rasp. “My people will find you.”
The skin broke, and the burning sensation of blood welling made Byron’s panicked heart race faster. He swallowed. The blade dug in deeper.
“Oh really?” The Lizard gave a humorless chuckle. “Do you think I don’t know how to get out of this room and be long gone before anybody discovered your corpse? But then, I’d only have been paid half of what I am entitled to. And I have a one hundred percent track record for nailing my targets. I’m not about to ruin that for the likes of you. Unless, of course, you truly insist.”
“All right, all right.” Sweat beaded Byron’s brow and burst out of his pores. “How much do you need?”
Chapter Eighteen
Sophie woke with a start. Black surrounded her. She blinked, but no light broke the seamless darkness.
She’d been so deeply asleep that she floundered for a moment, not sure which way was up, or even if she was still alive.
Her brain activated, providing necessary information: she was lying on a relatively hard, flat surface. There was soft, slippery fabric under her hands. She was warm and comfortable. Ginger was lying beside her, to judge by the doggy smell and faint, whuffling snores.
Sophie was inside the confines of her tent. Sound and light were filtered out by the closed door of the toolshed that the tent was pitched inside. The complete darkness reminded her of being in the lava tubes on Kaua`i.
Gradually, memory filled in.
She’d returned to the safe house after her meeting with her father and Ellie, carrying the gluten-free pizza Holly Rayme had begged for. The three women had eaten dinner together, but Sophie was battling the depression, and almost immediately, Rayme’s complaining and negativity had driven her to seek some alternative to sharing a bedroom with the woman.
Matsue was uncomfortable with Sophie pitching her tent in the yard due to threat exposure. They had checked the built-in toolshed under the house, and other than a few rakes and a weed whacker, discovered that it was empty and just the right size for Sophie to set up her tent inside.
By then, the depression swamping Sophie was so powerful, its pull so strong, that she had hardly been able to muster the strength to put up the tent, unroll her sleeping bag, and crawl inside with Ginger.
Sophie registered the fullness of her bladder. The dog, sensing Sophie was awake, whined softly and nudged Sophie with her nose.
Ginger likely had to urinate as well. Sophie sat up, unzipped the tent, crawled out, opened the door of the shed, and let the dog out into the very early morning.
The last stars were fading from a deep cobalt sky just yellowing to the east, highlighted by the jagged silhouette of tree line encircling the property. Night-blooming jasmine planted in a clump nearby sweetened the dawn air. Coqui frogs filled the tropical air with their shrill, exotic song.
Sophie went up the wooden stairs into the house, stealing up the steps and unlocking the security measures with a set of keys Matsue had given her.
She used the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and consulted her stomach. She’d barely managed to force down one slice of pizza last night.
As often was the case in her depressive cycles, she had no appetite. She drank a glass of water, however, knowing it was the right thing to do, and went back to her dim, cozy cave. Ginger met her at the door, and they withdrew into comforting darkness.
The next time Sophie woke, it was to the sound of pounding on the wooden door of the shed. “Sophie! Are you all right in there?”
Sophie forced her eyes open. She didn’t want to let on how bad off she was—she was supposed to be helping with security. She was supposed to be working. But all the events of the last days seemed to have rolled down and landed on her like a boulder, flattening her under its weight.
“Yes. I am here. Just not feeling well.”
Ginger backed that up with a loud woof.
“You’ve been sleeping all day. Do you need anything?” Matsue’s voice sounded concerned.
“I am ill.” There were many handy colloquialisms for this, but Sophie couldn’t seem to muster one. Her brain felt like a wrung-out sponge.
“I have some leftover pizza we can heat, and a Skype meeting set up with my supervisor about bringing you into WITSEC. Are you well enough to join us?”
She had to get up for that, though the thought of more pizza made her stomach pitch. Sophie unzipped her sleeping bag. “I will do my best.”
Half an hour later, Sophie and Matsue sat at the kitchen table with Matsue’s laptop open to a secure video conferencing channel. The muffled blare of the TV in the next room testified to Holly Rayme’s usual activity.
Sophie checked the artificial trace she’d attached to the screenshot she’d showed to Matsue. The trace had not been activated. Matsue had not shared the intel with anyone.
How long should she wait before bringing Matsue into greater confidence?