Park cringed inwardly. Kendrick had been sniffing around Anchali for over a decade, even though they were both married and she was very much not interested. “Anchali is fine. She can take care of herself. It’s her son. Gift. There was an attempt on his life, so she asked me to keep him with me until she and Satja have figured out who’s behind the threat. He’s with me for the near future until then. So, as I said, I’m afraid I have to decline.”
Kendrick frowned. “You’re watching her child? You hate children.”
The irony of Kendrick saying that to Park while asking him to teach kids barely out of childhood wasn’t lost on him. He pointed vaguely towards the door. “He’s twenty-one.”
Kendrick looked back over his shoulder, connecting the dots between the boy he’d just seen and Park’s dilemma. When he turned back, he was smiling in a way that made Park queasy. “Then bring him with you.”
“What?”
Kendrick shrugged, his expression smarmy, like he’d just won a chess match Park hadn’t known they were playing. “I’m assuming he’s a college graduate. Last I heard, Anchali and Satja had him in an international school. I’m sure his grades were more than adequate. I can pull some strings.”
Of course, he could. That was how Kendrick did everything—the shady way. He had no honor, no class. Hell, there was a rumor he had his own son killed after an incident that could have ended his career. Of course, that was only a rumor. But Park would hardly put it past him.
“What does any of that have to do with Project Watchtower?” Park asked, the first pangs of a headache starting to throb behind his right eye. “I assure you, the boy is not a psychopath by any stretch. I’ve seen him cry watching nature documentaries.”
Hell, he’d seen him cry over a Starbucks commercial. Gift was sweet, soft-hearted, and shy. His parents had sheltered him—coddled him in Park’s opinion. Despite attending an international school, he still seemed much younger than his twenty-one years, deferring to Park and his parents in all things. Gift hardly ever made direct eye contact, barely even spoke English, apologized to inanimate objects. He was far too timid. How would he survive in an American graduate school?
Kendrick shook his head. “As I said before, the project has two prongs. There are the operatives and then there are the handlers. We’ll allow the boy entry under the handler program. He meets the criteria. He’s a college graduate with parents who have the means and the social ties necessary for the program. I can push him through the vetting process. I know his parents personally, as do you. They’re both in the diplomatic core. They both have top-level clearance. Hell, I’m surprised we didn’t have him flagged for the program from the beginning, now that I think about it.”
Park was already shaking his head in return. “No, I’m not exposing Gift to this…insanity, where you hand over—what did you call them?—neurotypicalsto act as comfort objects to psychopaths. The whole thing is absurd. Surely, you know that.”
Kendrick flushed to the tips of his ears, nostrils flaring. “I’m losing my patience. I’m under no obligation to ask you at all. I could simply order you back to active duty and not allow you to bring Anchali’s offspring along for the ride. I’m trying to be diplomatic.”
Fuck. He hated this shit. Park had allowed the government to use his skills for one reason and one reason only. He liked killing people. Writing speeches was just his penance for a lifetime of murder. Why did he have to further inconvenience himself by babysitting barely legal psychopaths?
“Why me?”
This time, it was Kendrick who scoffed. “Because nobody has more confirmed kills under their belt than you. We don’t call you the Bone Collector for nothing." After a moment's hesitation, he added, “Besides, it’s not just you.”
Park frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m calling the whole team in. Pike, Justice, Brogan, Suri, Boone, West. Boone’s already there. He’s running the show. You’ll answer to him, just like the old days.”
The old days. Yeah, right. Kendrick made it sound like the seven of them had been some type of SEAL team. Killing was a fairly solitary activity, especially with someone as incompetent as Kendrick acting as their handler. More than once, they’d had to rely on each other to get out of deadly situations. But that hardly meant they were a team. They were strangers who occasionally shared a beer.
Park scrubbed his hands over his face. “Exactly what is it I’ll be doing at this school?”
Kendrick grinned. “To the outside world, the school looks like a private graduate program focusing on international diplomacy. We thought we’d have to work hard to make the program seem legit, but for the most part, nobody batted an eye.” If that wasn’t a commentary on the state of the U.S. education system, Park didn’t know what was. That was why he preferred it there in Thailand. “You’ll be in charge of Pod A and you’ll be teaching forensic chemistry.”
Park snorted. “Forensic chemistry. That’s a fancy way of saying I’ll be teaching psychopaths about poisons and bomb making.”
“We’re trying to go with your strengths. There’s only one man deadlier than you when it comes to poisons and he retired to live out his life with his assassin husband. It was quite the scandal.”
Park hadn’t known his competition had left the game. But then, so had Park. Still, he couldn’t hide the pang of jealousy. “You sound disappointed. Sorry you had to settle for second best.”
Kendrick’s phone began playingHail to the Chief. It was no secret the man aspired to be president someday. Kendrick was anything but subtle. Park watched him remove his phone and stare at it, as if deciding whether he would pick up or not. Finally, he swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear.
“Great news,” he said to whoever was on the other side of the line. “Park’s in. He’ll be there as soon as he wraps up his affairs here. Go ahead and send him all the pertinent information.”
What a fucking asshole.
Now, he just had to figure out how to break it to Gift that he was about to leave one volatile situation for another.
“Is your homework finished, Kla?”
Gift swallowed the bite of his coconut curry before setting down his spoon and smiling politely at Park. “Yes,hia.”
The barest hint of a return smile twitched at the corners of Park’s lips but then disappeared. Or maybe Gift had just imagined it.
