Choke Point (37 page)

But it wasn’t enough, her green eyes flashing in the moonlight. “We almost died!”

“Come on, Kyra, if I knew that plane was going down, do you think for a minute I would have let you go? I never thought anyone would actually try to bring down the plane.
Especially
if they thought the crest was on board.”

“You could have told me! I would have understood!”

But he knew better; not when she realized her mother might be behind everything.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-THREE

US Consulate Office, Hong Kong

Sunday, 15 July 11:44:29 GMT +0800

Simon cut a glance toward the small gathering of onlookers—a professional group of well-meaning, but gawking staffers who had been called in to “assist in a special repatriation”—then turned to the Consul General, a distinguished-looking gentleman who had just arrived on the scene dressed in a snowy white tennis outfit. “Before we get started, is there somewhere private where we could make a call?”

The man, who looked somewhat overwhelmed to have the lost daughter of Big Jake Rynerson suddenly thrust into his care, couldn’t move fast enough. “Of course, of course. Please.” He extended his arm like the maitre d’ in a fine supper club. “Right this way.”

He ushered them into his personal office, a spacious room decorated with flags, national mementos, and a photographic array of foreign dignitaries, all clearly intended to remind visitors of the power and might of the government he represented. “Please make yourself at home. Use the red phone. It’s a secure line, direct to the outside.” He flashed a set of teeth slightly more dazzling than his tennis togs. “Take all the time you need. While you’re doing that, I’ll check with the Chinese authorities…make sure those three men have been picked up.” He flashed another smile, this one directly at Kyra, and backed out of the room.

Simon waited until the door clicked shut before speaking. “I think he likes you.”

She smiled, the effort somewhat strained with weariness, and held out her arms. “What’s not to like?” Dressed in the clean but shabby garb of a deckhand from the Chinese freighter that had picked them up, she looked a bit like Charlie Chaplin as
The Tramp.

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Simon—”

Simon,
that didn’t sound good. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you last night. I was so shocked…so—”

“Forget it. I should have told you.”

“No, you were right. I see that now. If Jim had found out—” She shivered, as if old man winter had just blown across the back of her neck. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

He nodded, more than happy to leave that subject behind. “You better make that call. Our rescue is going to be all over the news within the hour.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Because…” She hesitated, as if she couldn’t decide how to say it. “Because I have a bad feeling. I know it’s been only five days, but it seems like a month. I’m afraid…it’s hard to explain. I’m both excited and scared. I don’t know if it’s a good day or a bad day. Should I be happy or sad? I can’t very well say, ‘yippee, I’m back,’ then find out my father’s dead.” Her eyes glittered with tears.

Tears, Simon realized, she had been fighting to hold in for too long. “It’s okay, Kyra. I understand. I’ll do it.” He circled around behind the desk—an early American museum piece—pressed the
SPEAKER
button on the red phone, and punched in Billie’s cell phone number.

She answered on the second ring, her voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “Billie here.”

“Hello, Billie.”

“Simon!” Her voice suddenly filled the room. “Ohmygod, is it really you? Are you okay? Where are you? Where’s Kyra? Is she okay?”

“Slow down, Billie. We’re okay. We’re at the American Consulate in Hong Kong.”

“Oh, thank God! Thank God! I was so…so—” She momentarily ran out of steam, then quickly recovered. “This is wonderful news! Wonderful! Just what Jake needs to get his head out of the weeds.”

Simon gave Kyra a cautioning look, thinking it was the kind of news Billie hoped might somehow revive her husband. “What’s happening, Billie? How is Jake doing?”

“It happened just like you said. Remember?”

“Uh…”

“You said he would sit up when he felt good and ready, and not a minute before, and damned if that ain’t just what he did. Sat right up…scared me half to—”

Kyra lurched forward over the desk. “Mother—”

“Kyra! It’s so wonderful to hear your voice! What happened? Where—”

“Is it true?” Kyra cut in. “Is Daddy really okay?”

“Well, he’s not exactly back on his feet yet. You being lost at sea didn’t help matters, but believe me, when I tell him you and Simon are safe, he’s going to be up and out of that bed before…” She released a huge sigh. “Holy damn, this has gotta be the happiest day of my life.”

“Me too, Momma. Me too.”

“What about Mr. Atherton?” Billie asked. “Is he with you?”

Kyra gave Simon a nod, indicating that he should answer. He hesitated, knowing all calls out of the office might be recorded, whether the Consul General knew it or not. “Well, uh, that’s kind of a long story, Billie. But he’s…he’s uninjured. We’ll tell you all about it when we see you.”

“And it better be damn quick, Simon Leonidovich. You hear me, now?”

“Yes, ma’am, we hear you loud and clear. We lost everything in the plane, so we need to fill out some paperwork before we leave here. As soon as they give us temporary passports, we’ll catch a flight to Bangkok.”

“We’re back in Macau. Flew in this morning. We’re at the Pearl.”

Kyra frowned. “Shouldn’t Daddy be in the hospital?”

“Well a course he should be in the hospital,” Billie snapped back, clearly venting an old argument. “But you know your father, he wasn’t about to sit around any hospital with you missing in the South China Sea.”

“But—”

“Now don’t you worry, honey. Dr. Yuan is here with an army of nurses.”

“But—”

“Nothing I could do,” Billie cut in, her tone suddenly defensive. “That old fool, thinks he’s gonna take charge of the search.”

Simon smiled to himself; somehow, coming from Billie, “that old fool” sounded warm and endearing. “What’s happening there, Billie? Are you going to make the grand opening?”

“We damn well better! The President is due here in two days.”

If anyone was listening in, Simon thought, that should make them sit up and take notice. “Is the hotel ready?”

“Well, y’all just better come see for yourself.”

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-FOUR

The Pacific Pearl, Taipa Island, Macau

Wednesday, 17 July 11:46:28 GMT +0800

Simon instantly recognized the young man standing post outside Jake’s suite, a regular from his Las Vegas detail. “Hey there, Tomás, how you doing?”

“Good, Mr. Leonidovich.” He reached out and gave Simon’s new plastic cast a playful rap. “Rumor has it you can’t stay out of trouble.”

“Could have used your help, that’s for sure.”

“Next time you call me, okay?” Tomás pulled a keycard from the pocket of his sport coat, slipped it into the magnetic reader, and pushed open the door. “You’re expected.”

The suite’s living area had been transformed into a mini MASH unit, with enough medical paraphernalia to equip a small hospital. Dr. Yuan and three female nurses were sitting at a game table playing mah-jongg. The doctor leaped to his feet as Simon came through the door. “Mr. Leonidovich.” He dipped his head. “A pleasure to see you again.”

Simon returned the bow and extended his hand. “Dr. Yuan. How’s the patient?”

Yuan rolled his eyes heavenward.
“Ayeeyah.”

Simon smiled to himself, not the least surprised. “A little difficult, eh?”

“Little? Nothing about Mr. Rynerson is little.”

“You got that right.” Simon hooked his chin toward the hallway leading to the master bedroom. “He’s in there?”

Yuan nodded. “
Hai,
with both Mesdames.”

Hearing Kyra referred to as a
Mrs.
always gave Simon a start, and conjured up a memory he preferred to forget. “Thanks, Doc.”

The door to the huge bedroom was open, but Jake’s booming voice stopped Simon before he could get past the threshold. “I’m not using that damn chair!” He was in bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows, his chin covered in shaving cream, his verbal assault directed at Billie, who was standing arms akimbo alongside a shiny new motorized wheelchair.

“Don’t you raise your voice to me, Jake Rynerson! Dr. Yuan says you’re to use it or stay in bed, and that’s just what you’re gonna do.”

“Like hell I am!”

Kyra, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel and safety razor, leaned back, inspecting her handiwork. “Yes, Daddy, you will.”

It was an argument Simon wanted no part of, but before he could retreat Jake spotted him. “Simon boy! You’re just in time to even up the odds a bit.”

A bit and a bazooka wouldn’t do it, Simon thought, not against those two. “We might be able to handle one, Jake, but you know damn well we can’t beat the two of them.”

Jake feigned a look of disgust. “Well, shit fire and save matches! Things are getting pretty bad when these two start agreein’ on things. So how are you, boy?”

“I’m good. The question is, how are you?”

“Lucky to be alive,” Jake bellowed back, “and feeling pretty frisky about it.”

“I hear that. You do look better than when I saw you last.”

Jake grunted, as if to say, ain’t that the truth. “Everyone assures me I have a very attractive drool.”

“Far be it from me to contradict popular opinion.”

“Spoken like a true politician.” As Kyra wiped the last of the shaving cream off his chin, the big man levered himself higher against the pillows. “Guess I missed a bit of excitement.”

“It was a little hairy at times.” Simon held up his arm, showing off his new cast. “Turns out your daughter can’t land a plane.”

Kyra stuck out her tongue. “I’ve had enough abuse for the day. I’m leaving now.”

Billie glanced at her watch. “Oh dear, we need to hurry.” She cocked her head and flipped back her silver-blond hair in an exaggerated gesture of self-importance. “
The President
has invited us to lunch.” Then she laughed, a typical Billie Rynerson life-is-good rib-scraper. “Wanna join us?”

Simon didn’t need to think twice about that; he had met one president, and that was enough for a lifetime. “Sounds great, but I have an appointment to look at a piece of art I saw advertised in the paper.”

Kyra gave him a puzzled, somewhat disbelieving look. “You, the great anti-shopper…the man without a home…buying art? What’s this about?”

“It’s something I thought Lara might like for her new office.” He knew better, but that had nothing to do with it.

A moment later they were gone, which was exactly what Simon had wanted; a very private talk with the big man himself. “You feeling up to a little conversation?”

“Hell, yes, I’ve had enough female chatter these couple days.” He pointed to a chair. “Set your butt.” He sighed, and leaned back into his mountain of pillows. “It’s still hard for me to believe…Atherton and all that. Not that I especially liked the boy. All foam and no beer, in my opinion, but I sure didn’t think he was the type to…you know.”

Simon pulled the chair up close to the bed. “Yessir, he fooled us all.”

Jake snorted. “That’s not the way Kyra tells it. Says you were ahead of him at every step.”

“You know women, they embellish.”

“Not my daughter,” Jake snapped back. “That girl tells it straight…like it or no.”

“You’re right,” Simon conceded, “but believe me, he had me fooled most of the way.” He paused, gently tossing out the hook. “There’s
still
a few things I haven’t figured out.”

Either Jake missed the hint, or purposely avoided the bait. “So what did the security people say?”

“They’re hot on his trail, as you cowboys like to say. They figure he’s in Taiwan or China.”

“China’s a big place.”

“I doubt they’ll find him, but I don’t know that it matters. His employers aren’t going to be too happy when they discover that piece of rock is a fake.”

Jake smiled, clearly amused at the thought. “Any idea who those employers are?”

“They obviously have money. The investigators believe it’s either a group of dissident Chinese politicos, or a Taiwanese business faction. They’ve already traced the source funds to a numbered account in Switzerland.”

Jake expelled a deep breath, the sound of hope taking a nosedive. “Figures. The Swiss don’t give up that kind of information.”

“Usually, but after all the bad publicity they’ve had over the past decade…all the Holocaust stuff…they’re not exactly standing on firm moral ground. There’s going to be pressure, both from our government and from the Chinese. Trust me—” He tried to put a little warning into his voice. “—they’ll get the information.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “You said, ‘the investigators believe.’ You’re not convinced?”

“Not completely,” Simon admitted. “How much do you remember about the night you were shot?”

“Ha! If I was smart, I’d tell you what I told the police. Nothing. Nada.”

Simon waited, letting the man get to it under his own terms.

“But just between you and me—” His eyes augured in, letting Simon know the limits. “I pretty much remember everything until I reached the hospital.”

“So you know who shot you?”

“Of course.”

“And you could identify them?”

“Identify
them,
” Jake repeated. “Now that sounds like more than one.”

“Yes, it does.”

Jake smiled, another sly grin. “Course I didn’t know the name of one of
them
until yesterday.”

“Bricker Mawl. And the other one?”