Kade stepped further into the living room, turned his head to see what Narong was looking at. There were three huge Thai men in overcoats in the room. They screamed bodyguard. Between them was another Thai man, tall, ramrod straight in his posture, grey hair at his temples, a fancy ring on one hand, a confident smile on his lips. He stepped forward towards Kade, extended his hand in greeting.
"Hello. My name is Ted Prat-Nung. I hear I have a lot to learn from you."
Oh no. Oh god no.
Oh, fucking hell.
Sam smiled contentedly, still half asleep. This had been so nice… She'd dreamt she was Kade through the night, had been the geeky shy boy of his youth, had lived through his discovery of science, of psychedelics, experienced his intense, restless curiosity firsthand, had lived through his and Rangan's first experiences with Nexus, the late night talks and experiments that had led to the discovery that the Nexus core could be programmed… It had felt so sweet and safe. The constant love of family and friends, a life in a world where curiosity and wonder were the drivers, not pain or fear or justice. What a sweet, gentle life… The only pain that of the loss of his parents in a crash, so suddenly, so recently…
She reached out to touch him, to hold him, found only mattress. Hmmm. Where could he…?
Something was flashing at her. Her contacts. Another message. What was it?
It was flashing red.
COMBAT IMMINENT.
Sam was fully awake in an instant. There. Tactical displays. Agents converging on front and rear, tranq loads active, lethal loads as backup. A high-value target just meters from her. Ted fucking Prat-Nung. They were coming in. They'd be here in seconds.
Cold fear gripped her. No! The civilians here! Mai!
She flicked her sight, hit ABORT, ABORT, ABORT. Looked for the damn menu item, there, CIVILIANS AT RISK, CIVILIANS AT RISK, ABORT, ABORT, ABORT.
Someone overrode her. They were coming in. Fuck.
• • • •
Garret Nichols gripped the sides of his chair as the Boca Raton rocked in the swells. They were in high seas, slowly maneuvering to stay clear of a pair of Thai Kolkata class destroyers on patrol. Rough conditions were expected for the next few hours.
Nichols, Jane Kim, and Bruce Williams studied the newcomers on the screen in the cramped control room. The tiny omnidirectional camera in the apartment was crap in low light. Three of the figures were large, bulky, hired muscle of some kind. The fourth…
"Holy shit," Bruce Williams whispered. Image amplification techniques on his terminal had just pulled up a match. That fourth figure, at a fifty-four percent probability, was none other than Ted Prat-Nung.
Nichols stared at the screen for a split second, dumbfounded, then began yelling out orders.
"Code Red, Code Red. Teams A and B to containment positions. Team C to reserve. Places, people!"
"Roger that," Williams replied.
Nichols jammed on the key to page Becker, yelled out another question. "Status on the November asset."
"He's asleep, sir," Jane Kim replied.
"Get him up. Eyes on Target Four. Prep for target capture."
"Roger that."
Becker's face appeared in a window. "Status," he ordered.
"We may have Ted Prat-Nung in the room," Nichols replied. "Moving our assets into capture position."
Becker blinked in surprise.
"Odds now sixty-three percent," Williams said.
"November-1 is on his feet," Kim reported. "Moving into position."
"Lane just walked in the room," Williams said, tension in his voice. Tactical display showed his position. Cataranes was a few meters further away.
"Abort signal from Blackbird!" Williams called out. "Civilians in harm's way."
"Override that," Becker ordered. "We know there are civilians there. This is capture, not kill."
Nichols nodded. Williams stabbed a key at his console.
"November-1 is almost in position," Kim said.
"Fireteams A and B still a few seconds from ready," Williams said.
The speaker crackled: "My name is Ted Prat-Nung."
"That's it," Nichols said. "We've got him."
"November-1 is in position," Kim said.
Nichols glanced at the screen with Becker's face. Becker nodded.
"Fireteams hold at ready," Nichols commanded. "Jane – initiate capture with November-1."
37
HARSH INTRODUCTION
"My name is Ted Prat-Nung," the tall man said. "I hear I have a lot to learn from you."
Oh, fucking hell, Kade thought.
Suk picked up on it. He caught the thoughts in Kade's mind, the images of danger, of armed men lying in wait. He understood in a flash of realization.
"It's a trap!" Prat-Nung's nephew cried.
Alarm spread across Ted Prat-Nung's face. The three bodyguards reached for guns beneath their coats.
Narong was faster. He was up on his feet, just a meter from Prat-Nung, a pistol in his hand pointed at the older man's head. Kade knew that pistol. He'd seen it in Sam's dreams. Ceramic shell. Graphene-tipped rounds. X-ray and metal detector invisible. Standard issue for ERD and CIA field ops.
Oh no, oh fucking no, oh please no.
"Everyone freeze," Narong said, loudly, in unaccented English. "Thanom Prat-Nung, you are under arrest for violations of international law as specified in the Copenhagen Accords on Global Technological Threats."
Have you seen Narong? Kade had asked Sajja.
I think he's sick, Sajja had answered. Must be really bad for him to miss his poster session.
Narong hadn't been sick. He'd been in ERD custody.
One of the guards took a slow half step to the right, trying to get around behind Narong.
He said, "I see you moving. If you take another step, I'll blow his brains out."
Kade could see it, could imagine it, the way the graphenetipped round would go in and out of Ted Prat-Nung's skull, leaving a trail of devastation, splashing his blood and brains onto the wall.
"Everyone lay down your weapons. You're surrounded. Surrender and you won't be harmed." His voice was loud, clear, authoritative, completely unlike the real Narong.
They'll use your tools in ways you never intended, Shu had told him. They won't ask your permission.
The bodyguards looked at their boss, uncertain what to do. Ted Prat-Nung slowly turned his head to look at Narong, stared down the barrel of the gun.