The clerk took his hat and went to the back room to retrieve Winter’s. As she did, Seah gave Winter an uncomfortable smile, one that Winter returned.
The plot was closing now. Winter could see the time ticking away on the man’s face, could see that with every passing second, his nerves tightened a little more, knowing that Winter was cutting into his plan’s time.
Hurry up, Tems,Winter thought.
The clerk didn’t re-emerge. Seah shuffled from foot to foot, let out a frustrated laugh, and nodded at Winter. “Their valet service leaves something to be desired, doesn’t it?” he muttered.
Winter chuckled in agreement. But he knew that it must mean that Tems had successfully made contact with the clerk. The Americans would be out in the hall soon.
Suddenly, at the last minute, Seah began walking abruptly down the corridor, away from the dining hall.
Beside him, Sydney tensed.Go,her body language seemed to say.
“Mr. Seah?” Winter said, and fell quickly into step behind him. The man was trying to make a getaway.
Seah didn’t answer. Instead, he broke into a run. He had sniffed out the trap.
Now, Tems!Winter wanted to scream.What are you waiting for?
“Mr. Seah, wait!” he called out.
The man ignored him and rounded a corner. For an instant, Winter thought the trap would fail—he was about to escape. Thoughts flashed through his mind. What if he tackled Seah? Would that blow their cover?
Just when he was about to lunge—
They turned the corner and stuttered to a halt.
Half a dozen CIA agents—some dressed in black, others in gala clothes as attendees—were blocking the hall right before the main entrance, guns drawn and pointed straight at Seah.
“Hands up!” one of them snapped.
Seah turned around, eyes wild, and bolted back down the corridor, straight at Winter.
Sydney moved on instinct, blocking the man’s sprint. With a snarl, he lunged at her in a desperate attempt to get her out of the way. Sydney’s defense lessons flashed through Winter’s mind—in an instant, he was at her side, his arms going up to defend her.
But the agents were on the man before he could make his attack. Seah had only a second to look Winter in the eye, bewildered, before he went down, shoved to the marble floor by two agents. The man let out a choked sob as one of the agents pressed his knee harshly into his back.
Winter could feel the rush of adrenaline surging in his limbs, leaving him shaking. He looked up to see Tems standing nearby now—where had he come from? His eyes turned to meet Winter’s.
Winter felt a torrent of relief flood his veins and an overwhelming desire to collapse. It was over.
As the agents hauled Seah to his feet and clipped handcuffs on his wrists and ankles, Tems flashed Winter a smile. It was there and gone in a second, so as not to tie Winter to them—but in it was all the ease that Winter had suddenly felt.
Ethan Seah was under arrest. The president was safe back in the dining hall.
But when Winter looked over at Sydney, she seemed bothered, something clouding her face instead of the relief that he expected to see.
“What is it?” he said.
“Something’s not right,” she replied.
He had no idea what she meant. But they had no time to stop and think now. As the agents surrounded Seah, Tems hurried over to themboth. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered to Sydney. “Got a flight to catch.”
But Sydney had already turned her back and was rushing toward the dining hall.
Winter exchanged a confused look with Tems, but neither of them hesitated in following in her wake.
She knows something,Winter thought,and she has no time to tell us.
