Page 33 of The Spy

He controlled much of the crime world in Asia. In one way or another, his slimy hands were in everything over there. She remember their clammy feel on her skin and she shivered.

“You know what this means.”

“No, your majesty.” His eyes held warning, care, and extreme hesitation.

“We have to track down this guy. Take him down, and I’m free.”

“Respectfully, you will never be free.”

She sighed, and considered his words. True, she never would. But she was ready to try. And she realized she’d much rather be in danger with Lucan at her side than with him far away.

A man rushed into the room. When he saw Anna at the desk he hesitated.

She waved him in. “What is it? I’m working with you today.”

“Well, um, this new threat just came in through the wires.” He held out a paper to Barlow, but Anna reached for it.

“This is a threat to me.”

He nodded.

“How many of these do we get a day?”

“Credible ones?”

“Sure.”

“Usually about one or two, but since the wedding we’ve been getting ten to twelve.”

“Credible threats on my life?”

Barlow cleared his throat. “Yes, your father thought it best to keep it from you given your emotional state.”

“My emotional state?” Anna stood, a slow fury rising. “And the Philippines. What do we know about him there?”

“Just that he arrived and went to this one warehouse and then went silent.”

“Ok, that will be all.” She dismissed them.

“What?” Barlow’s eyes widened.

“I require some time to make a few phone calls. You are dismissed. I will call again if your presence is needed.”

They rose slowly. “Anna. I don’t know what you’re planning—”

“Exactly, and if you wish to find out, you’d best leave me be for about an hour.”

As soon as the door closed, she dialed in to her old commander. “Charlie, we have a problem.”

After a quick update on their situation, he agreed to gather a team as back up. “I’ll have them positioned and ready in Asia.”

When she ended the call, she stood, texted her assistant to ready the plane and ran to her room to gather her duffle.

Chapter 18

For one week, Lucan strained against the ropes at his wrists. At first his captors had given him food but a typhoon had hit, and he hadn’t seen anyone for thirty six hours. The water rose slowly around him. The island was struck by a series of violent typhoons this season, and flooding was normal. He suspected he was only alive up until now because their boss who had wanted to see him first, couldn’t or didn’t want to get in to him through the flooding typhoon waters. But they didn’t care enough to check on him much.

He was stuck in a shed, tied to a post around his chest, hands tied behind him, feet free. He could be grateful for that. He knew the cramping from tied feet and never wished to experience it again. And in this case, free feet had saved him from drowning in the rising waters. The water was as high as his thighs and cold. He could still die. He reminded himself.

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