Page 64 of Wired Strong

Nine nodded briskly. “I do.”

Connor turned to Kupa and Nam. “What do you think?”

“It’s a wise plan, Master,” Nam said.

Kupa nodded too. “I will comb through Pim Wat’s things. I believe she has caches of money, identification, and the tools of her assassin trade stashed in cities throughout the world. She could be anywhere, so I’ll look for any clues I can find.”

“We all must be careful,” Connor said. “She will figure out that you had to have been the one to obtain the poison, Kupa.”

“I know. She will want me dead as soon as possible.” Kupa addressed Nine. “Please find her quickly.”

Connor stood up. “We all have our tasks, then. I will go and address the men. Good hunting, Nine.”

* * *

Connor hadthe tiger’s eye column that had been installed in the Master’s garden moved to the center courtyard. The chore took hours, and while the team moving the column and reinstalling it worked on that, Connor drilled the men.

He walked among them, demonstrating and correcting, as he ran them through their most strenuous combinations of martial arts routines. He wore them out with the heat of the Thai sunshine falling down upon the stones; with sweat and effort, he bound them together in unity. Finally, when their restlessness, fear, and anxiety had been calmed by the vigor of physical exertion and the triumph of their perfect unison in the ranks, Connor bade them sit in rows as he had refreshments and water delivered. Once they’d eaten and drank, he told them to meditate facing the column. Then he left to bathe and change.

The six-foot-high, one-foot diameter plinth made of solid tiger’s eye gleamed and sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine. Nam sat at the base of the plinth and played a series of brass singing bowls, striking them gently so that their hypnotic sound rippled across the seated, meditating trainees.

Nam signaled Connor when he felt the men were ready for his message. Connor walked out in front of them, stepping so lightly that his feet on the stones could not be heard. His inner-eye perception showed him the mass of tones of the men’s energy fields; many of them were dark with discouragement, grief, and uncertainty.

Connor felt an unexpected tug of compassion; of genuine caring.They needed him.

Nine had been correct in telling him to stay at the compound.

Connor leaped effortlessly up onto the top of the column, drawing whispers from a couple of the men whose eyes were open. He lowered himself and sat with his legs folded upon the narrow, circular top, feeling fresh from a shower and clean in his ceremonial garb, a whitegiembroidered with crystals and white silk stitchery so that he shimmered in the waning light.

He entered into meditation with the men, sending out a calming energy of peace from his place atop the column; that energy rippled over the trainees like silken ribbons.

Was this how the Master had exerted such influence?Food for thought and practice.

With his eyes closed, Connor could still see every individual man, and also their essence as a group.

For the first time, he felt not just the weight of his position, but the beauty of it.

Nam sounded a gong, and when its ringing echoes died, the men opened their eyes.

Gasps of surprise and admiration erupted from the crowd at Connor’s feat, at his pure white, shining appearance from the top of the column.

Connor projected his voice over the gathering. “The Master has passed on, as I am sure you have already heard. He named me Number One, his successor, and in the moments before his death, he conveyed to me that I was to take his role; that his death was the ultimate graduation within the Yam Khûmk?n.” Whispers settled into rapt stillness. “I will lead you in the way that he did. Nothing need concern you but what I put before you. We have sent a team to capture his murderer, Pim Wat. But for now, know that you are right where you’re supposed to be.” Connor extended his hands in blessing. “May our lives be in service. May we rule our bodies, minds, and emotions, as we serve the Yam Khûmk?n.”

The men bowed forward, their foreheads touching the stones. And then they stood, and a cry rose from them that filled Connor with awe: “The Master is dead! Long live the Master!”

Chapter Forty-Six

Sophie

Sophie had gone backto the office, while Leede and Raveaux went to the school to share what they’d learned about Conrad and his mother with the leadership there.

Sophie’s phone sounded with the unique tone she had set up to notify her of a communication from Connor in their secret chat room. She picked up the device and thumbed to its hidden icon.

The picture on the screen made the color drain from her cheeks. A wave of dizziness swamped her. She reached for her desk, and lowered herself into her chair.

Sophie was glad to be seated as she took in the gory photo of the Master, lying on his back, dead of stab wounds—too many to count, as if whoever had done it had gone a little berserk.

She forced herself to look away and read the message in the green DOS text that accompanied the photo.“I killed him. Pim Wat escaped.”

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