Page 63 of No Time Off

Manny spewed his water and then reached for a napkin. “He saidwhat?”

“In my defense, he was in pain and wasn’t thinking clearly at the time when he said it. It’s a long story, but there was a bad guy, and he was trying to hurt Slash, so I shot him.”

Petra, Henry, and Manny stared at me, transfixed. “Did you kill him?” Petra finally asked.

“No. I might have if I’d hit the torso—which is where I was aiming—but I hit him in the leg instead. Still, it brought him down and I rescued Slash, so I don’t know why he was complaining about my stance. I haven’t had a lot of time to practice at the range.”

“You two have a most unusual relationship,” Manny said. “How about a Taser? Have you ever used one?”

I thought back to the time I was in Hollywood working on a dating show for nerds. I’d sort of tased one of the contestants, but it hadn’t been my fault. We’d been struggling for the Taser, and it went off…on him. Still, he’d been down for the count, so I guess I had to answer in the affirmative.

“Yes,” I said. “Will it work without making too much noise?”

“Trust me, someone who gets hit with one of these is in so much pain they can barely mew like a kitten. I’ll get one for both of us. Our security folks should have several that aren’t being used right now.”

He walked over to the policeman sitting near the stairs and talked quietly with him. The man immediately reached into his belt and handed him something. Manny then climbed the stairs to the upper deck, presumably looking for the other policeman.

Petra sighed, and Henry put an arm around her. “I feel so helpless right now. Are you sure you want to do this, Lexi?” she asked. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

I put my fingers on the keyboard just as an email from Angel pinged in my inbox. “Right now, Prime Minister, there’s no other options. We’re running out of time.”

“I seem to recall hearing Slash saying something similar,” she replied. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Before I could respond, I jumped as sounds came from mine and Manny’s phones again. We all instantly fell quiet. We heard a door open, and people started talking softly in Chinese.

“They’re back,” I whispered.

THIRTY-ONE

Slash

Imust have dozed off, because I snapped awake when I heard someone at the door. I stood, bracing myself against one of the walls, blinking as a guard yanked open the door and hauled me out by the arm. Another guard stood nearby, holding an automatic weapon.

I stumbled over the closet threshold, squinting at the light as I was shoved down the hall and back into the office where I’d hid the recorder and my phone. Another stroke of luck for me, although I couldn’t confirm whether they’d found them.

My eyes watered slightly, still adjusting from the cramped darkness of the closet. The parrot sat on its perch, and when it saw me, it flapped its wings and squawked as if offended by my presence.

I gave it a dirty look, but it just kept squawking until one of the guards snapped something to it in Chinese and it shut up.

They forced me into the same chair where I’d sat before, retied my hands behind my back, and waited. For what, I wasn’t sure. There were three people in the office now. My gaze flicked around, noting the positions of guards. The two that had yanked me from the closet were sporting tactical vests with Chinese characters embroidered on patches and wore the insignia of the local police. The other was dressed in a similar uniform, but without the vest. A supervisor, I suspected. All were armed. My gaze swept over the statue where I’d hid the recorder, but I did not linger on it. It appeared untouched since I’d hidden it, so that was encouraging. However, I knew better than to get my hopes up.

Two of the Chinese guys said something to each other and then looked at me, smirking. I kept my expression neutral. No need to antagonize them at this point.

Finally, I heard some noise in the hallway, and two men entered. Both were dressed in suits. I didn’t recognize the first man. He was tall and heavyset, probably the chief of staff, whose office we were in. When he moved aside, a Chinese man, impeccably dressed in a gray suit and tie that looked alien in the tropical humidity, walked into the office. Our eyes met, and a jolt of shock ran through both of us at the exact same moment.

To say I was surprised to see him would be an understatement, and clearly, he had the same reaction upon seeing me.

His eyes widened and time seemed to slow before he let out a low, disbelieving whistle. “Slash?” My name rolled off his lips in sheer incredulity. “Am I dreaming? What are you doing here? You’re the last person I expected to see in this godforsaken place.”

“Jiang Shi,” I murmured.

The Chinese hacker and I had a history. Alonghistory. Shi had once run the Chinese government’s cybersecurity division until he went rogue, almost causing World War III with a computer virus. I’d tracked down Shi’s brother and gained valuable intel for the US government before he landed in a US prison, where he still sat today.

Shi had come after me for that, and several other things, but I’d caught on to his planning and had personally placed him in the crosshairs of both the Chinese and American governments. We had all worked together to bring him down. As far as I’d known, Shi had lost everything: his job, his credibility, and, eventually, his freedom. I’d presumed Shi was rotting away in a Beijing prison. So, to now find Shi at the edge of the Pacific Ocean, orchestrating a coup in the Cook Islands at the very location Lexi and I had chosen to celebrate our honeymoon, was more than just a surprise. It was mind-blowing. That little black cloud had now topped all its previous achievements.

Without taking his gaze off my face, Shi reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small silver coin and started twirling it between his fingers. I recognized the twirling as an old habit from our past encounters, a tic that revealed how Shi channeled his psychotic mind and restless focus. I had seen him spin a coin in endless loops on screens, cameras, and in person. I took note of the deep lines on his face and the subtle bitterness etched into them. That bitterness had grown even deeper since the last time I’d seen him—no surprise.

The tension in the room tightened as the silence stretched on. Everyone seemed to sense it. I was acutely aware of the shifting stances of the guards flanking me, their weapons poised but not exactly aimed, waiting for a command from Shi.

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