“It is, especially someone you care about.” She took his hand. “Don’t feel guilty. You’re only human.”

  He gave her a weak smile. His raw emotions had exposed him, and his shoulders slumped. “If I shouldn’t feel guilty, then why do I feel horrible, like I’m betraying Sherrie?”

  Fang led him to a row of chairs and they sat. She continued to hold his hand. “First, don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything to Sherrie, because you’ve done nothing wrong. Second, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but Dylan told me Sherrie’s your first girlfriend.”

  Leroux flushed at the embarrassing statement. A man his age should have had far more than one girlfriend in his life, though if he were to have only one, he couldn’t imagine better. He was the envy of every man who had ever met her.

  “Sonya cares for you more than she should and you’re not supposed to know that, but you do. She understands that she can never have you, and that’s her burden, not yours. Because you’re a nice guy and an empathetic person, you share her pain and take it on as your own. And that’s fine, that’s the type of person you are. You just need to recognize that what you’re feeling is empathy for the situation. Once the situation is over, that empathy will end as well, and you’ll both go back to the way things were. It’s nothing to feel guilty about.” She cocked an eyebrow, giving him a look. “As long as you didn’t make mad love to her in there, did you?”

  He laughed nervously. “Of course not, but…”

  “But what?”

  “We held hands.”

  Fang grinned, holding up his hand that she had been gripping the entire time. “Just like I am, comforting a friend?” She leaned in closer. “Do you think I want to jump your bones?”

  He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.”

  “You suppose?”

  He laughed. “Fine, you’re right, I’m reading too much into things.” He sighed, patting her hand then letting go. “Thanks, I needed that. You’re right, it’s just the situation and our history. I’ll be fine.”

  Fang rose. “Good. I assume you’re heading back to the office?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’m going to head home. Anything you want me to tell Sherrie when I speak to her?”

  His jaw dropped as his chest tightened, his stomach suddenly in knots.

  She roared with laughter. “You should see your face. It’s priceless.” She patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetie. That conversation’s in the vault. Now, you get back to work and make sure my Dylan gets home safe, otherwise all bets are off.”

  12 |

  Zhongguancun e-Plaza Beijing, China

  Kane strode through Zhongguancun e-Plaza, one of his favorite places in Beijing. The throngs of humanity browsing the hundreds of vendors, the top-of-the-lungs negotiations taking place all around him. It was thrilling. Locals and tourists alike intermingled, all levels of society, some there for the show, some there just to feed their families.

  He slid a chunk of meat off a skewer, savoring every chew. He had no idea what it was, and though he spoke and read Chinese fluently, he made it a point to never question what was on offer. He merely pointed then paid. Whether he was eating pork or panda was irrelevant, it simply tasted delicious, though the thought it might be panda turned his stomach slightly.

  Any creature that cute when it sneezed should never be on a menu, endangered or not.

  He casually sauntered through the market, enjoying the view, his penchant for Asian women indulged tonight, though none of them compared to his Fang. She was everything he had always dreamed of, gorgeous, intelligent, athletic, outgoing. But most importantly, an empathetic soul who knew who and what he was, someone he could talk to, someone he could share anything with and who wasn’t just a sympathetic ear, but an understanding one. She had been in the business. She knew the sacrifices. And she was well aware of what questions she could and couldn’t ask.

  She was everything he needed in his life.

  And though his eyeballs were enjoying the sights, all those sights did was fire him up for when he returned home, because the best sex with a stranger could never compete with making love while staring into the eyes of the person you intended to spend the rest of your life with.

  He drew the last morsel of meat off the skewer then tossed it into a nearby garbage bin. He took a seat on a bench, bowing his head and smiling at an elderly lady sitting on the other end. She returned the gesture then he leaned back, enjoying the view as his eyes roamed the crowd searching for anyone suspicious.

  Unfortunately, there was still no evidence he was being followed. If he could spot somebody acting suspicious, it would set his mind at ease, for then he’d know where he stood. He would abort and head back to the hotel, tossing the intel if he had to. But the fact he hadn’t spotted anyone told him nothing. It could be that the Chinese had extremely competent people assigned to him, or that they were merely hanging back, letting electronic eyes follow him. For now, he’d assume the latter, but take the risk regardless. Casey might have compromised him or she might not have, but he couldn’t continue the mission assuming the worst. He simply had to plan for it in case it did come true.

  He rose, giving the old lady another nod and smile, then headed outside toward Li’s Photo, run by one of his contacts that had worked for the Agency for decades, and with Kane since the beginning of his assignment to this region. Chan Chao and his wife Bing were committed to the cause of a free China, and he just prayed he wasn’t compromised, for if the elderly couple were arrested because of him, they would be shown no mercy, and their final days on this earth would be brutal.

  And it would also mean he had failed to keep a promise, a promise he made to them, to get them out of China should things go wrong.

  He spotted the shop ahead, the familiar safe haven making him warm inside. Hopefully, he wasn’t about to bring doom down upon his friends, for that’s what they were despite only ever seeing them in the line of duty. Chan had risked his life for Kane on numerous occasions, going above and beyond what he had been hired to do, and Kane owed him his life several times over.

  Chan’s shop was an exchange point where information could be passed back and forth, operatives could be resupplied. Chan had his own network of contacts established over the years that provided intel that would then be fed back to Langley or to operatives, like himself, in the field.

  He made a show of patting down his pockets then pulled open the door to the shop he had been in countless times. A familiar chime sounded and Chan’s impossibly short wife, Bing, glanced at him from behind the counter. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said in Chinese.

  Kane gave no indication he understood the words, though flashed a smile and pointed at the floor where he stood waiting. The customer she was tending to left, and the moment the door closed, Bing switched to English.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Why, have you heard something?”

  “Sierra Protocol. We’re supposed to lock everything down until we hear otherwise. Do you know what’s going on?”

  Kane shook his head. He had received the automatic communiqué through his watch only minutes ago but he wasn’t about to abort an op and go to ground only seconds away from completing it. He had no details to share beyond what Epps had told him earlier, but the woman wouldn’t be cleared to know, not to mention any information he gave her could be revealed under torture and would confirm to her interrogators she was on the inside. What was more concerning was the fact Sierra Protocol had been enacted. It meant the Chief had decided the Casey situation was now critical, and it could mean he had been compromised. “I’m sure they have their reasons. Where’s your husband?”

  “As soon as Sierra Protocol was enacted, he packed up all our gear and took it to a storage facility we have, just in case.”

  Kane looked about, well aware that anything incriminating was kept in the back. “Did he get everything out?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, let’s hope so.” The door chimed behind him. He didn’t bother looking as he pulled out his phone. “I’ve got some photos I took here of the Forbidden Palace. I know it’s kind of old school, but can you print some photos for me? I always like to send an envelope of pictures of where I’ve been to my parents. They always get a kick out of it, but they don’t like technology.” He could see concern in her eyes.

  “No problem. Which ones?”

  He brought up his photo list, selecting all those he had just taken in the square. “These ones.”

  She pushed a card across the counter. “Email them to this address.” She leaned to the side, looking past him. “I’ll be with you in a moment, officer.” It was said in Chinese.

  Kane wagged the phone. “Sent. When can you have them ready?”

  “Come back in one hour.”

  “Will do.” Kane turned to find a uniformed officer standing in the doorway. Kane smiled pleasantly at him. “Excuse me.” But the man didn’t move. Kane’s eyes darted to the window, spotting half a dozen more outside. “Can I get by please?” he asked, making to step around the man. A hand was extended.

  “Please remain where you are, sir.” The English was perfect, not a hint of an accent.

  “What’s going on here?” demanded Bing in Chinese.

  Kane stepped back, raising his hands slightly as his worst fears were confirmed. The Agency had been compromised. The question was, were they here for him or for the Chans? Had he led the authorities to them, or was the timing merely coincidental? Yet none of that mattered at the moment. Whomever they were here for, he was about to be taken into custody and they would find the memory stick with Duan’s intel.

  He slowly stepped back from the officer. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m just here to get some photos developed.” The man said nothing and Kane continued to slowly back away toward the counter where Bing stood.

  “You should stop harassing hard-working shopkeepers!” she continued in the same shrill voice Kane had heard her use on her husband countless times over the years, though it was almost always in jest or concern, rarely genuine anger. The two of them loved each other more than any couple he knew. She stepped off the stool she had been standing on, revealing just how short she was, then rounded the counter carrying a cricket bat and shaking it at her unwanted guest. “Does your mother know what you do, that you harass little old ladies?”

  The man’s eyes bulged and Kane felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man as he continued to back away from the confrontation, maintaining his character of the innocent customer while Bing continued hers as the disgruntled shopkeeper.

  The officer noticed him getting too close to the door leading to the back of the shop, and pointed a finger at him. “You! Get back here!”

  The cricket bat swung, smacking the arm down. He yelped in shock, not accustomed to resistance from the public. Bing swung again. “You get out of here! I’m a good citizen! I pay my taxes! I file my paperwork!” She swung again as the young man blocked the blow, retreating a step each time rather than taking down his attacker who was a foot and a half shorter and approaching fifty years his senior. She swatted him again, continuing to press her advantage, but expertly putting herself between the guard and the door, forcing the man’s back toward Kane.

  Kane gently swept aside the beads filling the doorway to the back as Bing picked up the pace of her attack, her screams covering any noise the thousands of pieces of round plastic might have made clanging together. He headed through the rear storage area where many briefings and resupplies had occurred, then into their bedroom.

  “That’s enough!” shouted the officer and Bing cried out.

  “How dare you!”

  Kane desperately wanted to help the woman, but she was doing this for him. He moved aside a rug in front of the bed then yanked open the trapdoor disguised in the floorboards. He stepped into the crawlspace then lowered the door, reaching out to reposition the rug as he hid his method of escape. The escalating confrontation was instantly muffled as the trapdoor shut, leaving him in inky blackness. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, guiding himself through the escape route Chan had shown him once his trust had been gained.

  He wove his way on his hands and knees, passing through the crawl spaces of the row of shops. He didn’t have much time. As soon as they discovered he had escaped, the entire area would be cordoned off. Right now, he had to put as much distance between him and the shop as he could, as quickly as he could, then find a place to hole up. Unfortunately, if the Agency had been compromised, none of his usual safe havens could be trusted.

  But that was the next problem to deal with.

  He reached the end of the escape route, positioning himself underneath another trapdoor. He turned off the flashlight then listened over his pulse pounding in his ears. He could hear a siren, but little else. He gingerly pushed up on the trapdoor, revealing a sliver of dim light, but nothing more. The siren increased in volume. He pushed the trapdoor aside, poking his head up. He was in a utility closet of a restaurant at the far end of the strip of buildings. He climbed out then closed the door. He ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to rid it of the cobwebs he had pushed through, then brushed off his dusty suit jacket and pant legs futilely. His suit was in desperate need of dry cleaning, and in good light, he would stick out like a sore thumb.

  The doorknob rattled and Kane spun his back toward the door, wrapping his arms around himself, moving his hands up and down his back as he moaned. The door opened. “Hey, some privacy here!” he shouted angrily in Chinese.

  “Sorry,” replied whoever it was, the door slamming shut, the man buying Kane’s ruse that a make-out session had been interrupted. He couldn’t stay here long. He removed his jacket and tie then grabbed a baseball cap for the Beijing Shougang Ducks off a peg on the back of the door. He fit it in place, pulling the peak low, then opened the door. He peered down the corridor toward the exit, not bothering to look the other way. He didn’t want his face seen unnecessarily, and those behind him weren’t who he was concerned about. He closed the door then headed for the exit, pushing it aside and stepping out into the late evening, the sun long set. He broke to his left, away from Chan’s shop, then tensed as an engine started behind him. The tires crackling on pavement grew closer, leaving him wishing he had his weapon.

  “Get in the back! Get in the back!” came the harsh whisper of Chan behind him.

  Kane spun to see the man leaning out the window of a beaten-up van. Kane didn’t bother asking why he was there, he simply followed instructions, rushing to the back and opening the doors before climbing in and shutting them.

  “Stay on the floor and don’t say a word,” said Chan from the front as they slowly accelerated, making a turn at the end of the alleyway. They drove in silence for several minutes with sirens wailing past them on too many occasions. “All right, I think we’re out of immediate danger. I guess they were serious with this Sierra Protocol warning.”

  “I guess so,” agreed Kane.

  “My wife?”

  “She was brilliant. She stayed in character. You would have loved it. She started beating the officer with a cricket bat, shouting at him about harassing little old ladies. I was able to escape thanks to her.”

  “That’s my girl,” murmured Chan, his voice cracking. Kane needed him in the game and not emotional—there would be plenty of time for that later.

  “We need a place to hole up and regroup. If the Agency’s been compromised, then none of my usual safe houses can be trusted.”

  “I have a place.”

  “Is it somewhere the Agency doesn’t know about?”

  “Yes. I’ve been planning for this day for a long time.”

  “Then let’s get our asses there and figure out what we’re doing next.”

  Chan sniffed hard. “I don’t know about you, but I know what I’m doing next.”

  Kane knew exactly what the man meant. Chan was going to attempt to rescue his wife, and Kane was honor-bound to help, but first he had to get this intel to the Agency. He closed his eyes, cursing to himself. If the Agency was compromised, he couldn’t send the intel—all communications would be rejected. There were only four people he could think of at the Agency that he could absolutely trust. The last he heard, Tong was undergoing surgery and Leroux would be holding vigil at her side. Sherrie was on an op in Russia, leaving only the Chief.

  But how the hell could he get the intel to the Chief?

  He needed more info. Was the Agency truly compromised, or had they merely been following him? If the Agency was compromised, what was the extent of it, and was the security breach over now that Casey was dead?

  “Are you going to help me like you promised?”

  Kane pursed his lips and inhaled through his nose. “You can count on me, my friend. But there’s something we need to do first.”

  13 |

  Director Morrison’s Office, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  Leroux entered Morrison’s office a little more calmly than earlier, though an emotional wreck despite Fang’s assurances. He was racked with guilt, yet she was right. All these emotions were because of the situation. Once Tong was out of the hospital and back at her station, everything would be fine. He just wished Sherrie weren’t out of the country. He wanted to hold her, to be held by her, to reassure himself that nothing had changed between them.

  Morrison rose and rounded his desk, concern on his face. “How’s she doing?”

  Leroux shrugged. “Good, I guess.”

  “Did you speak with her?”

  “I did. She’ll be fine. She was just tired. She wanted me to thank everyone for their well wishes.”

 

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