Page 63 of Wired Target

“That’s all for now.Let me know when your contact has found Raveaux, freed him, and transported him to our aircraft.When that last bit of paperwork is completed, we’ll have a deal.”

Sophie ended the call without a goodbye.It was important to keep the upper hand with a man like McDonald.

A memory flashed into her mind: Sophie kneeling, waiting in the doorway of her ex-husband Assan Ang’s apartment in Hong Kong.Her eyes were down, her hands demurely clasped behind her back.Subservient to an extreme, she’d waited for Assan to come home from work as he’d told her she must—every day the apartment spotless, dinner simmering on the stove.

And Sophie, waiting on her knees to find out if he’d beat her that night, rape her, or worst of all, leave her alone in the dark of the windowless, soundproof panic room hidden inside the apartment.

Sophie exhaled audibly, clenching and releasing her hands on the steering wheel.

She’d come a long way since those days; Assan Ang would never lock her up again.Now she was the one in charge as her vile mother waited, tied up in the dark—as Sophie had endured so many times in that early, terrifying marriage.

She focused on navigating the downtown traffic until she reached Queens Hospital in downtown Honolulu, where her father had been taken.Secret Service agent Kate Smith had texted her Frank’s room number and floor.

After she took a ticket and parked, Sophie exited the dimly lit garage and took the hospital stairs two a time, discharging physical tension as she made her way to her father’s room, seesawing between hope and terror at what she’d find there.

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Sophie stopped at the nurse’s station on the floor, hoping to prepare herself before she entered her dad’s room.“I’m Frank Smithson’s daughter.Can I get an update on how he’s doing?”

The nurse asked for her identification first, which Sophie found reassuring.She then pulled up her father’s record on her computer.“Ambassador Smithson is conscious.but he’s lost a lot of blood.He refused a transfusion, waiting for you to get here.”The woman looked up at Sophie.“You’re the same blood type.Are you willing to give blood?”

“Of course.As soon as possible.”Sophies voice trembled.“Was he ...was he poisoned?Is he going to live?”

The woman looked puzzled and glanced back at her screen.“They did a toxicology screen, and it came back negative for substances.Though I certainly can’t guarantee anything, he seems to be stable.”

Sophie let out a breath of relief.“Where do I go to donate blood?I’ll visit him as soon as that is done.”

She filled out forms and signed her consent, then went down a few floors to the hospital’s lab.Resting comfortably on a padded chair, she watched a couple of pints fill plastic bags.

“Do you need any more?”Sophie asked when the nurse came to disconnect the apparatus.

The woman smiled.“You’ve given more than recommended in one session.You’re going to be a little lightheaded and weak; take it easy.Drink this water and eat these orange slices before you go.”

Sophie did so mechanically and left the lab as soon as they allowed her to.

She did indeed feel dizzy.This time she took the elevator to her father’s floor and went straight to his room.

Frank was resting, propped on pillows with his eyes closed.

His color was gray and ashy; his dark lips were an unhealthy bluish color, though the monitors around him beeped and blipped in a peaceful pattern.

Sophie took the plastic chair beside his bed and picked up his large, well-shaped hand.His fingers were cold; she massaged them gently and lifted his palm to press it against her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Sophie.”His voice was a hoarse rasp.“I’m going to be okay.Pim Wat didn’t get me.No poison on her blade, this time.”

Sophie hadn’t realized she was crying; she brushed the wetness off his hand.“I donated blood for your transfusion.We’ll talk about you getting better after that.”

Soon the doctor came in and discussed the transfusion with Frank.He signed the consent forms, then they hooked up a single bag of Sophie’s platelets to his IV.

Sophie continued to hold Frank’s hand as he drifted in and out of sleep; she woke herself with an abrupt twitch as a nurse leaned across her to adjust his IV.“All done.You should be feeling better soon, Ambassador.”

“Thanks to my daughter, here.”Frank caressed Sophie’s scarred cheek with his thumb.“She’s been the light of my life ever since she was born.”

Sophie smiled.“Anything to help you feel better, Dad.Does the doctor know about your cancer?Will the transfusion make a difference with that?”

“Way above my pay grade.”Frank’s smile was wan.“But who knows—I might be cured with my superhero daughter’s blood running through my veins.”

Sophie squeezed his hand.“I have news, Dad.”When he’d given her his full attention, she went on.“Pim Wat is still alive.The woman you shot was an assassin, likely someone working for Mendoza or hired directly by my mother.”

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