Page 67 of Wired Target

“Good day?”Lei said.

“The best day ever,” Torufu said, and turned on the truck.

38

Day 11

Sophie stood on the blue ceramic tiles of the entry of her house midday of the next day, waiting for the CIA to arrive.

Dressed in a pair of easy movement black pants, a white button-down blouse with cap sleeves that showed off her toned arms, her favorite Tahitian pearls at her ears, Sophie was ready for anything—even dealing with Agent McDonald, his minions, and her mother.

She’d called in a favor from a doctor she knew through her Security Solutions position, and the woman had come to the house and examined Connor.She’d set his leg and equipped him with a lightweight modern cast and a crutch.

“You’re doing remarkably well, considering,” the doctor had said, brushing glass off Connor’s skin.“These lacerations are barely showing.Other than the broken leg, which is going to set cleanly—you’re in surprisingly good shape.”

Sophie and Connor had exchanged a look; he must have been working to accelerate his healing.The glass that peppered his bedsheets had been ejected by his skin as it closed.Sophie wasn’t going to say anything about that, and neither was Connor.

After the doctor left, she’d given Connor a sponge bath, which they’d both enjoyed.Armita and Feirn had cooked dinner; they’d eaten with the family in the dining room.Sophie and Armita put the children to bed, and she and Connor had spent another platonic night together.

Sophie’s mouth softened in a smile, remembering the sweet hours as they’d slept in each other’s arms.

She’d barely thought about Pim Wat at all—hadn’t been down to the basement to check on her mother.Sophie’d left her there, just as she’d said she would.

McDonald had contacted her early in the morning to let her know that the CIA lawyer, working with police, had been able to clear Raveaux of anything but breaking and entering Pim Wat’s place.He’d arrived in Honolulu the previous evening on the plane she’d sent for him and was presumably home resting.She’d call him soon and hear all about his adventure in Greece.

Sophie smoothed her hair, which she’d pulled back into a sleek updo, as the gate alarm chimed.McDonald would arrive any moment with Connor’s immunity agreement and a private transport to take Pim Wat away, permanently.She’d sent Armita and Feirn to the nursery with the children for the duration, and Connor was resting in the guest room, out of view of the CIA man and his team.

The gate retracted.

Sophie’s security detail approached the large black government SUV that drove in.Clement and Bill checked it over and verified IDs, allowing the CIA men to keep their weapons.

At last, McDonald hefted his bulk out of the vehicle.He ambled over to Sophie.“Looking great as usual, Ms.Smithson.”McDonald’s voice was hearty.His glittery little eyes gleamed; the man couldn’t wait to get his hands on Pim Wat.

“And you seem healthy as well, Agent McDonald.”Sophie suppressed a shiver at what her mother would face, but Pim Wat had earned what she had coming.

“These men are with me to assist in transporting the prisoner should she get physical.”

One of two agents trailing McDonald held up an old-fashioned canvas straitjacket with a grin.“For her safety.No throwing herself down a set of stairs while in our custody.”

A flash of memory—Pim Wat had done just that, trying to kill herself before she could be turned over to the CIA the last time Sophie had apprehended her.

The tickle of discomfort that danced down her spine was harder to ignore this time.

Did she really care what happened to Pim Wat?

No, she did not.

The woman deserved every torture they came up with for her.

Sophie firmed her jaw.“Come in, please.”She turned and led the agents inside.“Show me Connor’s agreement and proof of Raveaux’s release.”

McDonald gave his jowly chuckle.“Aren’t you a hard-ass.”He reached into the pocket of a loose pair of Bermuda shorts.“Here you go.And a picture on my phone of Raveaux.”

Sophie took McDonald’s phone first, gazing down at Pierre’s face.His skin was pockmarked with cuts, both of his eyes were puffy and dark with bruising, and his expression was bleak; but he was standing upright with a crutch at the top of a set of stairs, ready to enter the Security Solutions jet.

Sophie took the papers and handed the phone back to McDonald.“Text the photo to me.”She walked over to the kitchen counter, where a colored glass spot lamp provided a handy pool of light.She illuminated the agreement and read it rapidly, noting the signatures of the law enforcement agencies at the bottom and the date.She held up her phone and took a picture, then folded the paper and slid it into her pocket, turning back to McDonald.“Now I’ll show you where we’ve been holding Pim Wat.But I won’t be accompanying you.You will have to deal with her yourselves.”

“Not a problem.”McDonald gave a wolffish grin.

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