28
SOPHIE
The approvalin Pim Wat’s eyes wasn’t maternal pride—it was the satisfaction of a spider watching prey step onto her web.Sophie recognized that particular gleam; it was also in the eyes of snakes before they struck.
“You’re finally asking the right questions,” Pim Wat repeated, propping her silenced weapon on her thigh and swinging her boot gently.“Though I think you already know I don’t need you.But I do want to see you crawl and beg to save the lives of these people you care about.So do it, Sophie.Crawl.Beg.Maybe I’ll spare them; you never know.”
“It wouldn’t do any good.”Sophie’s numbness had evaporated, replaced by energizing fury as Pim Wat’s words sank in.“So it was you, after all, who gave the CIA coordinates and schedules.You knew about the gathering.The exact time of the fight.”
“Of course.”Pim Wat couldn’t resist preening.“Ever since I slit that pig McDonald’s throat and escaped the black site in Macau, I’ve been feeding the CIA information.They think their assets in Bangkok have been so clever, ‘developing local intelligence.’Once I found out about Sunan’s plan to unseat Connor, I aligned with him.”Her chuckle was brittle.“And the Americans.So eager to believe what confirms their assumptions about us.They didn’t know it was me they were dealing with.”
Malee’s hands tightened on her wheelchair arms as she interrupted.“Pim, please ...let Ema go, at least.She’s nobody to you.”
“Quiet, sister.I might still need to hurt your little housekeeper because she matters to you.”Pim Wat narrowed her eyes.“You lost your chance to speak when you helped steal my granddaughter from me.”Her tone remained conversational.“Sophie was guaranteed to come here too, once we salted the path with plumerias and stolen artifacts.She made the perfect cover for my double cross of both Sunan and the CIA.”
Pim Wat’s deception overwhelmed Sophie like a black wave.“You set me up.That whole case.You lured me in and used me as bait.”
“Bait.Distraction.Justification.”Pim Wat shrugged.“The Americans needed a reason to move against the Yam Khûmk?n.A former FBI agent rushing to support her cyber vigilante lover and all the terrorists in one place?Perfect excuse to erase everyone.”
“Connor wasn’t a terrorist.”Sophie’s words came out raw.
“No, worse.He was an idealist.”Genuine disgust colored Pim Wat’s cheekbones with a rosy flush.“Do you know what he did when he came to power after killing my beloved, therealMaster?He tried to reform the Yam Khûmk?n.Tried to return it to its ‘noble roots.’Started interfering with business arrangements, like the opium trade, that had worked well for centuries.He was the reformer—not Sunan.”
Sophie thought of Connor in the circle, magnificent even in brutality, fighting for something he wanted to believe in.“So you had him killed.”
“I had them all killed.Connor, that usurper who believed honor mattered more than profit.Sunan, who was getting too ambitious, starting to question why his operations kept facing mysterious setbacks.The elders, who resisted power and influence.The young, stupid trainees, waiting to be told what to do.”Pim Wat nibbled at a sesame cookie on the tray.“One night’s work took care of it all.By next month, I’ll control every major smuggling route from Myanmar to Malaysia.I’m building a legacy that will last for generations.”
“Pim,” Malee said quietly.“That is where I draw the line.You can’t take Sophie’s children.”
Sophie’s eyes widened.“Whatabout my children?”
“Yourchildren?”Pim Wat’s lip curled into something that might have been pity—or contempt.“You meanmychildren.The ones you’ve hidden away in your little Hawaii paradise.”She stepped closer.“Like I said.I’m building a legacy.They will be my heirs.”
“Over my dead body!”Sophie started forward, but froze as Pim Wat raised her sleek weapon, its barrel lengthened by the silencer.
“Yes.That was always the plan.Don’t worry.I’ll tell the children you died heroically.They’ll grow up hating the Americans who killed their mother.Perfect motivation for the tools of my empire they’ll become.”
The unmuffled booming report of a decades-old Colt .45 was impossibly loud in the wooden house.
Pim Wat’s eyes widened as her body jolted; her weapon fell from her hand.She looked down in genuine surprise at the glossy, spreading stain on the breast of her black leather outfit, then at her sister.She choked suddenly, and blood bubbled from her mouth and down her chin.
Malee held the old six-shot pistol steady in both hands.A tendril of smoke rose from the barrel like incense.Her face held a resoluteness that Sophie had never seen before.
“I should have done this years ago,” Malee said.“Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
Pim Wat tried to reach for her fallen weapon, but Sophie darted in and kicked it out of the way, then backed up out of reach.
Pim Wat opened her mouth, a ghastly rictus filled with red.More blood pumped out of her chest, bubbling with each beat of her dying heart and drowning breath.She sat abruptly on the chaise.“You,” Pim Wat coughed through the fluid filling her mouth, frothing from her lips.“You were always weak.Gentle.”
“Gentle isn’t the same as weak,” Malee said.“Die, please.I’ve had enough of your theatrics.”
Pim Wat’s panicked gaze found Sophie’s.
Sophie saw something almost human in her mother’s face in that moment—fear, regret, sorrow perhaps.Then Pim Wat’s perfect features contorted as she heaved up a final gout of blood and fell forward off the chaise.
Even dying, her mother managed to position herself to fall gracefully.The liquid spreading beneath her body, creeping across the shiny teak floor, looked like red satin in the evening light.
Sophie hurried to check on Feirn.
