Page 25 of Wired Strong

Connor

Day 4

Connor knockedat the door of the Master’s suite of rooms on one of the higher floors of the compound. He’d spent the morning meditating to control his thoughts and emotions; he still wasn’t sure that the Master couldn’t read his mind.

A long moment passed as he stood in front of the polished wooden portal. He heard nothing from inside the chamber.

Connor raised his hand to knock again, and the door opened.

The Master stood before him, dressed in a scarlet silk robe open to the waist and loosely knotted, as if he had arisen from bed to join Connor at the door—but it was mid-morning, a time when the Master was done with the morning drilling, and usually ate a late breakfast. Connor had timed his visit carefully.

“What is it, Number One?”

“May I come in? I’d like to speak with you privately.” The walls had ears, and so did the hallways, in the compound of the Yam Khûmk?n.

The Master held the door ajar. Connor entered a sunken living area that he was very familiar with. No fire in the fireplace today, as the season had warmed, but the chess set awaited them.

Connor’s gaze moved about the luxuriously appointed space; the bedroom door was ajar, but the Master’s inner sanctum where he meditated was closed, and so was the bathing area.

The Master gestured to the European-style couch that faced the fireplace. “Have a seat. I’ll have some tea brought up.”

Connor sat, restraining himself from nervous gestures like smoothing hisgi,as the Master used a wall intercom to summon tea and refreshments.

Finished with that small chore, the Master came over and sat in his usual place, a wing-backed armchair. The man looked like a king in his scarlet robe, his excellent musculature gleaming in natural light from carefully placed overhead slits. His pansy-purple eyes were unreadable. “What do you have to discuss, Number One?”

“Sophie has decided to cut off all communication with me, for two reasons.”

A moment went by. The Master didn’t respond; instead he gestured to the chess set. “It has been a while since we played. What color do you choose?”

He didn’t really have a choice about playing, and he knew it.

Connor moved to sit on a small stool in front of the board. He had come to be attached to this chess set; each piece had been lovingly and beautifully carved from native hardwoods by a long-ago ninja trainee. One side was bleached white, and the other rubbed with some kind of dark stain. Every piece had been translated into a unique figure from the Thai Royal Court of millennia ago.

Connor chose white, as he usually did, and made a bold opening move. He had not intended to stay here for hours, and sometimes the Master beat him in just a few moves. Once in a while, he let Connor win.

The Master moved from his armchair and joined Connor at the table. His countermove was swift. “How does Sophie communicate with you?”

The Master had never asked this before. With his new resolution to kill Pim Wat, Connor felt an internal quiver of concern.Was he fishing for some weakness?“We have a secret chat room we have been using for years. Untraceable.” Connor deployed his knight.

“What do you think prompted her communication?” The Master counter-moved.

“The investigation that caused me to have to withdraw from Phi Ni and flee back here with my servants is placing pressure on her. Sophie is worried about being taken captive, and being used to lure me into a trap. She believes that the larger agenda of the team is to capture you and Pim Wat, too. She removed the chip that allowed me to rescue her, so that she cannot be forced to leverage me to rescue her.”

“Commendable. She has shown an admirable loyalty to your relationship. Do you want to reunite with her, now that Jake is dead?” The Master took Connor’s knight.

Connor pretended to study his pieces, his heart thumping and mind scrabbling.The Master likely knew that he was agitated by the question.He couldn’t answer without revealing his hopes, so he deflected with a new piece of information. “She is pregnant with Jake’s baby.”

A slight noise from somewhere behind them; perhaps a muffled gasp.

Connor swung around, and his eyes widened. Pim Wat stood in the doorway of the Master’s bedroom.

Sophie’s mother looked stunning, and completely different from the last time he’d seen her. She wore a robe identical to the Master’s, barely tied at her supple waist, and her round, perfect breasts were semi-revealed by the gaping fabric. Her new face looked like that of the movie actress Halle Berry. Her hair, once a stark, dead white, had been colored a rich platinum blonde that contrasted beautifully with her golden-brown skin.

“Hello, Number One. I’m back.” Pim Wat glided down the two steps into the living area, and rested a hand on the Master’s shoulder. Connor remembered how skeletal her hand had been; and the claw-like fingers stroking the silk of the Master’s robe were the same—her hand was the only thing he recognized.

“Welcome home, Mistress. You look beautiful.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Number One. Tell me more of my daughter’s news.” Pim Wat smiled, and now Connor saw the faint pink of healing scars around her mouth, forehead, and jawline. In a few months, those traces would be invisible.

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