Page 6 of Wired Target

“Can’t give you any protection outside of Thailand.”McDonald shook his head and his florid jowls jiggled.“Not gonna fly.The task force has agreed not to touch you there, but that’s the extent of our agreement until you fulfill your end of the bargain.”

“The bargain” had been drafted between Connor and the international task force that had been pursuing him for online vigilante activities.The group, consisting of CIA, Secret Service, and Interpol, had agreed that if Connor found and detained Pim Wat and turned her over to them, he would have clemency and freedom.

But Pim Wat had spectacularly evaded them not long ago.The task force had been humiliated by the failed operation, and they needed a scapegoat.

Connor suppressed his raging frustration; his private island of Phi Ni off the coast of Thailand remained the only refuge where he and Sophie could meet until this nightmare was resolved.

“I’ll be sending a team to follow up on this lead, then.The destination is Bali,” Connor said.

“Keep me informed.I have a contact in the islands you can liaise with over there.”They exchanged details.McDonald cut the connection with the jab of a fat finger.

“Jerk,” Connor muttered.He shut his eyes as the familiar feeling of being trapped engulfed him.As the Master of the Yam Khûmk?n, Thailand’s equivalent of the CIA, Connor was now one of the most powerful men in Asia; but he was stuck in a stone tower in the middle of the jungle like some freakin’ Rapunzel without a rope.

A knock came from the door—one short knock, two long—the code his personal attendant used.Four was a young and ambitious graduate of the Yam Khûmk?n’s ninja training program whose designation of Four Hundred Forty-Three Connor’d finally had to learn, and shorten, after his faithful friend Nine’s death.“Enter.”

Four entered, carrying a tray.“Your supper, Master.”

The Thai man had a bright magenta aura shot through with yellow rays.An exemplary warrior and clearly intelligent, Nine had groomed and chosen Four to fulfill the position of caring for Connor’s needs for a reason—but Nine hadn’t had enough time before his death to share that reason.

Connor studied the young ninja as he set out the meal on the room’s table.

There was nothing outwardly objectionable about the man’s appearance or his behavior—except that Connor hadn’t wanted a personal attendant.Hadn’t wanted anyone to get close to him again—anyone who did could be used as a weapon, and then the loss would never stop hurting—as Nine’s continued to do.

Connor’s life was full of these dilemmas.Attempts to protect himself always seemed to fail; that was not lost on him.

Still, there was no room for anyone to replace Nine at Connor’s side.“Leave the food on the table and go.”

Four unloaded the tray and carefully arranged the covered bowls, utensils, tea-things and napkin.He hesitated a long moment, then padded out.The door closed softly behind him.

Connor got up and went to the portal.He dropped the heavy wooden bar into the stanchions on either side of the door, locking it.

Four, who waited outside guarding him, couldn’t fail to hear Connor’s rejection.

Connor felt a guilty twinge; he was being a jerk, too.

He’d been doing that a lot since Nine died, and after he’d had to say goodbye to Sophie.

Connor returned to the table and lifted the ceramic cover off a steaming bowl of curried rice, meat, and vegetables that Four would have taste-tested for poisons.He picked up his chopsticks and gazed out the single window of the tower as he ate, meditatively watching the martial arts drilling of the men in the courtyard far below.

Connor’s thoughts wandered back to the call with Sophie and Raveaux.

He should have been more courteous to the man who was Sophie’s trusted friend and the godfather of her children, but he’d been patronizing and curt, ordering Raveaux to prepare to travel to Bali to follow up on Pim Wat, though he was less sure than the last time that the lead would pan out.

The connection was slim: only a mention in the Balinese news that a businessman known to have mob connections had mysteriously died in his sleep, and authorities were searching for a “petite blonde woman” who’d been spotted on closed circuit TV leaving the man’s chambers.

Connor had hacked into the authorities’ evidence file and reviewed the footage.The possible killer’s face hadn’t been visible in the CCTV, but she’d been the right size, dressed as a prostitute wearing a long blonde wig, Pim Wat’s modus operandi—and something about the quick, graceful way the woman moved rang true.

Wasn’t much, but he was sending Raveaux out anyway.

Could his decision be a little like King David sending Bathsheba’s husband to the front lines to be killed?

“Raveaux gets to see Sophie and the kids anytime he wants, while I’m stuck here,” Connor muttered.Without his friend Nine to talk to, the empty room had become his confessional.

Connor pushed his half-finished meal away.This dark mood and his rude behavior—both were beneath him.He was the Master, and his title called for a higher standard—but Connor was just a jealous fool half a world away from his beloved.

The solution lay not in treating those beneath him poorly, but in finding Pim Wat and turning her over to the authorities.Once that was done, Connor could make a home with Sophie in the United States, or here in Thailand.Hell, anywhere in the world; the whole planet was their playground.

“I need to focus on replacing myself here at the Yam Khûmk?n.The men aren’t yet ready to do without me.”Connor’d been restructuring the organization, building subgroup democracies among the diverse disciplines and departments.

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