“Good. The car you requested is waiting for you two blocks west. It’s a white Ford Fusion. Keys are on the front tire. Your destination is the northernmost airstrip at O’Hare. Your countrymen have secured a private jet that’ll take you home. They’ve told me they plan to have you lay low for a while. Things have gotten too hot in this hemisphere.”
Yang glanced over his shoulder at the metal fire escape and then turned to the west. The bagel shop afforded him a view of the surrounding streets and he spied the vehicle Bishop had provided.
It was the man’s attention to detail—and his willingness to kill any and all who posed a threat to his position—that had kept him in his place of power for so long. It was also how he had managed to fly under the radar of the various American alphabet agencies while partnering with Yang’s country to foment crisis and chaos in his own land.
Bishop was China’s most valuable asset. Russia’s too, if rumors were to be believed. There was even some gossip within the various spy communities that the man had ties to North Korea…although Bishop had his doubts about that one. The hermit kingdom eschewed all connections with the west, even when those connections might benefit them.
All that to say…if Bishop wanted Eliza Meadows dead, then Yang must do his best to make that happen, regardless of how harrowing the next hour might turn out to be for him.
Swinging back around, he studied the imposing edifice of the old factory. The brick walls looked thick and impenetrable, probably insulated with horsehair which had been the substance of choice back when the building was constructed. The windows were glazed and reflected the light, making it impossible to see inside. And the cameras mounted to the brick wall had red eyes that blinked to remind passersby they saw everything.
They would certainly see Eliza Meadows’s last moments.
He pictured how he would line her up in his sights. He practiced how he would blow all the breath from his lungs before curling his finger around his trigger. He imagined what it would sound like when his bullet left his barrel.
One brief moment and five pounds of pressure was all that stood between him and a trip back home. Back to the little village where his grandmother still lived.
She would fill his belly with fried sauce noodles, and he would sit and smoke his grandfather’s pipe and try to forget—at least for a while—that powerful men played powerful games that were slowly reshaping the world’s geopolitical map.
A cog in the machine,he thought philosophically.That is all I am.
“So as soon as I finish today, we will say our goodbyes,” he said into the phone as he loaded a 7.62mm round into his rifle.
“I’m sure your handlers will want you back here helping me poke holes in things again soon enough,” Bishop assured him. “But for now, we go quiet. McClean got too close.”
“I’ll phone you when it is done.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Yang slipped the burner back into his pocket and watched as the tall, arrogant-looking FBI agent exited the factory building’s front door and made his way across the grounds. Yang used the time to carefully get his rifle into position. And then gritted his teeth when he saw the agent jump into the driver’s seat, start the engine on the big, black SUV, and begin navigating it past the open gate.
Fuck.
If they drove into the factory through one of those garage doors, he might not get a chance to take his shot. Which meant he would have to improvise.
Take out a tire as they leave?he wondered, his mind moving quickly through his options.
Riddle the vehicle with lead and hope a round finds Miss Meadows?
Follow them and make my move once they are on the road?
All were possibilities. None were ideal.
He would play it by ear, as the Americans liked to say.
24
Black Knights Inc.
Fisher carried Eliza’s duffel down the stairs even as the thought of turning her over into federal protection made him want to chew nails.
“Hold there,” Agent O’Toole instructed once he and Eliza had stepped onto the concrete floor of the shop. “Wait until Agent Douglas pulls in.”
“Copy that.” He nodded as Britt hit the button for the garage door closest to them. The large metal structure peeled back to reveal night had made way for day.
The rising sun hit the skyscrapers to the east, casting long, dark shadows over the Black Knights Inc. compound. And something about the way the rest of the city sparkled with pale pink light while the expanse out front remained dusky and cool gave Fisher a terrible sense of foreboding.
He blamed his paranoia on the fact that he was moments away from waving goodbye to Eliza for…
