Page 77 of No Time Off

“I bet it is. I’ll say it was quite disturbing to discover Jiang Shi is alive, free, and operating in the South Pacific.”

“My feelings exactly.”

“You’ll provide a full debrief upon your return,” she said.

“I will,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest. “And maybe even do one better. I’m not planning to make this easy for them. Still, the situation remains a bit…fluid.”

“Understood,” she said. “When are you sending the recording?”

“As soon we get to a secure location with a decent connection. When we get there, I’ll drop it in the usual spot for you.”

“Good. I’m standing by. The president has alerted the Indo-Pacific Command, and they’re preparing an aircraft and an away team at Hickam if we need to evacuate you or the prime minister.”

“Please thank the president on our behalf. We may find good use for that airplane. Right now, though, the Chinese control the airfield here. We’re working on a plan to change that.”

“Don’t expose yourselves unnecessarily. Shi is going to be very unhappy you’ve slipped through his fingers.”

I clenched my jaw. “He already is. He’s issued a shoot-to-kill order on us for allegedly trying to assassinate Maivia. Shi has seemingly abandoned his plan to take me to China and figures he’s better off just killing me when he can. I bet he now regrets not doing that sooner.”

“Damn it, listen to me. You do whatever you need to do to protect yourself. You have my full backing. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” I patted my pocket, where I still had the gun I’d taken from the Chinese guard. “I understand completely.”

“Good.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “I’ve distributed all you’ve sent so far within the NSA, the CIA, the State Department, and our regional allies in that area, including the UK, Australia, and New Zealand.” She tried to keep her tone businesslike despite the gravity of the conversation. “Do you know what you’re going to do next?”

“I’ve got a plan. I’ll outline it for you once we’re clear.”

“Make sure it’s a damn good plan,” Candace said. “And no heroics. You may be skilled at getting out of tight spots, but you’re a married man now. You have to think of your wife. So, be careful. The president is watching this situation closely, and I donotwant to be the one to tell him something happened to you two.”

I smiled a bit at that. “I’m working on it. With a little luck, we should wrap this up in twenty-four hours—if we’re not shot first, of course.”

“Just keep me posted, funny guy,” Candace said firmly. “Get it done and stay safe.”

“Trust me,” I said with feeling. “It’s at the very top of my agenda.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

Lexi

The sun was still more than an hour from being overhead, but we were clammy with sweat as we prepared to head to the farmhouse with Manny. Using the Ara Tapu wasn’t a viable option, obviously, so we took the two motorbikes most of the way to the farmhouse, following the escape route Paul and I had taken in reverse.

When we passed by the boulder where our pursuer had crashed, the bike was gone, but we could still see shards of broken glass and part of a light. I told Slash about the crash, and he got a grim expression on his face. Since we weren’t being pursued, he was able to drive carefully on the paths and deftly avoided the muddy spots.

Slash didn’t let his guard down for a second, continually scanning the jungle for any unusual movement or a possible attack. It was his normal modus operandi, but I also felt an itch between my shoulder blades—like someone was watching us—so it was kind of weird.

We finally stopped at the edge of the pineapple field behind the house and could see the structure in the distance. We crouched down behind some bushes and surveyed the farmhouse.

Manny pulled out a pair of binoculars from his pack and went about checking out the house. I could smell a fresh piece of the mint gum he’d been stress-chewing since sunrise, and that was somehow comforting. From my vantage spot, the farmhouse looked just as we’d left it: weathered shutters, one of them hanging crooked, and a tin roof reflecting the late-morning sun. No movement. No vehicles. No ambush, unless someone had mastered the art of invisibility, which—given the week we were having—felt entirely plausible.

“Looks safe so far,” Manny said. “How about I go ahead and check it out? After all, I’m just an ordinary guy on a motorbike, not a shoot-on-sight international terrorist.”

I rolled my eyes as Slash nodded. Manny climbed on his bike and headed off down the path around the field. The house remained quiet as he approached. Manny got off his bike and began exploring the backyard before circling the house to the front.

Fifteen minutes elapsed before my phone rang. “Hello?” I answered, punching it on speaker so Slash could hear.

“The place looks clear,” Manny said. “I checked inside, and everything seems to be as we left it. There are no signs of a struggle or fight.”

“Are we clear to approach?” Slash asked.

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