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Of course, if he weren’t alone, it would be a little more doable. If he were with, say, an attractive European executive.

I pictured Dox in a Hong Kong-tailored, conservative suit, across from Delilah, probably in a chic but tasteful pantsuit. Dox could be a local corporate expat; Delilah would be the smart European advertising executive trying to land an account with him. That’s the kind of deal that got done at the China Club every night. They’d look completely at home.

What the hell, I couldn’t sleep anyway. I got up, turned on one of the reading lights, and picked up the cell phone. I slipped in a new SIM card and powered it up, then called Delilah. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey,” I said. “Hope I’m not waking you.”

“You’re not. I’m still jet-lagged.”

“Okay time to talk?”

“It’s fine. I’m just sitting in my room.”

I thought about asking her again if she wanted to meet. It seemed like such a waste, with both of us in the same city. Hell, for all I knew, she was in the same hotel, maybe in the room right next to me.

I supposed she was right, though. It would have been stupid to meet now, with Gil watching her. If she had to lose him, she might only get one chance, and I wanted that chance to be the China Club. Also, part of me, maybe not the most mature part, didn’t like the idea of being rejected a third time, even if the rejections were for sound reasons and not at all personal.

“I think I’ve got an opportunity to wrap this whole thing up tomorrow,” I said. “Finish what I started.”

There was a pause. She said, “Okay.”

“But I could use your help. If that’s a problem, I’ll understand. This isn’t your mess.”

She chuckled softly. “If only that were true.”

“All right. If you want to help clean things up, can you get to Hong Kong tomorrow?”

There was another pause. “I already told Gil that I would stick around Bangkok for a few days in case you contacted me. I don’t know how I could explain my sudden urge to travel.”

I thought for a moment. “Tell him I contacted you. That I apologized for bugging out on you and asked if you could join me in Hong Kong.”

“If I tell him that, he’s going to go out there, too, just like he came to Bangkok. To be closer to wherever you resurface so he can get to you right away. And he’s suspicious of me now. He’s going to want to stay close.”

“Can you manage all that?”

I could feel her weighing the pros and cons. She said, “Probably.”

“Can you get a flight out first thing in the morning?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Do it. Check the bulletin board when you get there. Or I’ll call you again.”

She was quiet for a moment, and I thought, Meet me tonight. Just ask me.

But she didn’t. She said, “Okay. I’ll be there.”

I thanked her and hung up.

I powered down the cell phone, turned off the light, and sat down in the chair again. I crossed my legs under me and watched the city lights through the window until one by one, almost imperceptibly, they started to go out.

I thought about Delilah, so near and yet so far.

I hoped I could trust her. I supposed I needed to. But none of that was what worried me.

What worried me was how much I wanted to.

EIGHTEEN

HILGER FINALLY FINISHED UP the day’s financial work-certain aspects of which constituted his cover in Hong Kong; others of which had more to do with his real business, his real mission. With everything that had been going on lately, it hadn’t been easy to stay on top of it all.

He stood up from his desk and stretched, then checked his watch. Shit, two in the morning. He had to get home and get some sleep. He had a big day tomorrow.

The phone rang. He sat back down. The caller ID readout indicated a blocked number, which, he hoped, meant it was Winters calling with good news. He’d been wondering what had been taking so long.

Instead, it was Demeere, another man from his network who had gone to Thailand to help Winters interrogate Rain. Before Hilger had a moment to consider why it was Demeere calling rather than Winters, the team leader, Demeere said, “Bad news.”

“All right,” Hilger said, his voice calm.

“Winters and the Thais tried to take Rain outside a club in Pathumwan. Rain got away. Winters is dead. So are two of the Thais.”

For once, Hilger’s calm came slightly unstuck. He said, “Shit.” He tried to think of something else to say, but there was nothing, so he said it again. “Shit.”

Winters was a pro, and Hilger had assumed the man would avoid any unnecessary risks. Worst case, he had expected they might not be able to find Rain, or that Rain might get away when they moved in on him. He hadn’t expected casualties. Certainly not Winters.

“What about Dox?” he asked, regaining his focus.

“He got away, too. Two of the Thais briefed me.”

“Do the Thais represent a liability at this point?”

“No. They don’t know enough to matter.”

Hilger thought for a moment, then said, “How did it go down?”

“Apparently Rain saw it coming. He reacted before they were properly in position.”

If Rain had seen Winters coming, he must be damn near psychic. That, or the Thais had slipped somehow. You couldn’t expect them to own up to something like that. They were just local muscle, after all. Contractors. With Calver and Gibbons dead from that goat-rope in Manila, Hilger hadn’t been able to field a full, professional team.

“How did Winters die?” Hilger asked.

“Rain had a knife.”

Hilger frowned. All that kali stuff… Winters was supposed to be an expert with blades. “He beat Winters, with a knife?” he asked, thinking that something was wrong with the story.

“Dox threw a chair at him, it seems. It knocked him down.”

Well, that would do it. “And then?”

“The Thais said Rain and Dox jumped on him and started stabbing him. There was nothing they could do and they ran away.”

Hilger believed they ran away, all right. He just wondered exactly when in the sequence it had actually happened.

“Were you able to confirm any of this?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got a contact in the embassy who was able to check with the Thai police. Winters had broken ribs and was killed by a knife wound in the chest. He had defensive wounds on his arms.”

Even in the midst of his anger and sorrow over Winters, Hilger felt a sense of relief that the man had died on his feet. Winters knew a lot, and it would have been a problem if Rain and Dox had managed to interrogate him. Not that Winters had been any sort of pushover-it would have taken a lot to separate him from any information he was intent on keeping-but this way, Hilger didn’t have to deal with any doubts at all.

“What do the police make of it?” he asked.

“They think it was a bad drug deal. Winters was traveling sterile. No problem there.”

Damn, Winters had been a good man. Thorough. Losing him was a blow.

Hilger realized he was going to have to call Winters’s sister, Elizabeth Shannon. Winters hadn’t been married; his sister was his next of kin. Hilger had dated her after the war. She was married now, with a family, but they had stayed friendly. Goddamnit, he was dreading that call. He hated Rain for forcing him to make it.

“What’s next?” Demeere asked.

Hilger thought for a moment about telling the man to come to Hong Kong for the meeting with VBM, but then decided not to. It would have been useful to have him there to take Winters’s place, but he judged it more important to keep someone on Rain and Dox. He wanted them dead.

“Try to reacquire Rain and Dox,” Hilger told him. “And use your discretion, but I would advise against trying to render them again. We’ve lost too many people already, and I don’t see how we could do it anyway without a full team in place. If you can find them and the opportunity is there, just take them the fuck out.”