Callsign: Knight (Shin Dae-jung) (Chess Team, #6)

Salvatori counted the seconds down aloud. “Five…Four…Three…”

The sky behind them went completely white. It was as if God had decided to wipe the canvas clean and start fresh. Then reds and yellows burst into existence on the blank canvas. Finally, he could see the outline of the mushroom cloud.

“Hold on!” Beck screamed.

The shockwave crashed into the chopper along with a terrible burning odor. Knight closed his eyes and held tight to the children. The S-92 twisted and spun like a roller coaster ride. Salvatori gasped, and the children sobbed into Knight’s chest. It felt as if the vibrations were tearing him apart from the inside out.

Then it was over. And they were clear of the blast.

Knight gazed back toward the mushroom cloud and the ruined city for a few moments. The children continued to cling tightly to his body. He gestured with his head for Salvatori to come over. The old man hobbled across the cabin, sat down next to Knight, and took hold of the children. They didn’t say a word as he passed them off. They merely gravitated to Salvatori as they did him. Any port in a storm, Knight supposed.

He walked to the front of the chopper and joined Beck in the cockpit. He slid into the co-pilot’s chair and slipped on a headset. She looked over at him. “I owe you one,” he said.

“Damn right, you do. I saved your ass back there.”

He laughed. “I’d say that’s about right.”

“So I assume you remember our wager,” she said.

He looked confused for a moment, but then his smile fell. “If you think that you’re getting me in a bikini, you’re out of your damn mind.”





EPILOGUE



Knight took his cell phone away from his ear, switched it off and put it in his pocket. His conversation with Deep Blue had been surprising to put it mildly.

He pushed his feet beneath the hot sand until his toes reached the cool, wet sand below. He’d returned to Thailand with three days left on his reservation. His suit had been ruined beyond repair, but he had packed for weeks. Of course, the shorts and T-shirt he wore now cost less than one hundred dollars—beach fashion for men was essentially identical, whether you spent fifty dollars or a thousand. On the beach, it’s the body beneath the clothes that matter.

Not that beach bodies were on his mind. His current company managed to keep his eyes from straying too far in any other direction.

“You know, standing in the sand like that just makes you look shorter.” Beck said as she stepped up next to Knight and handed him a cold beer. She’d worn the bikini after all, and she wore it well. “Who were you talking to?”

“My boss,” Knight replied. “He had a few interesting things to say about you.”

“Your boss?”

Knight nodded and tried not to smile when he saw her tense. Despite himself, Knight’s thoughts about Beck weren’t just physical. He’d fought alongside the woman. He respected her. And he enjoyed her company. He rarely found all three qualities in a woman he also found so attractive and had told himself to take this slowly.

Ling and Jiao, who Salvatori had taken on as his responsibility as penance for his collusion with Cho, had revealed a desire for a more profound relationship. He wasn’t remotely ready to consider children or a wife. But a girlfriend?

He watched Beck’s face purse up as she wondered what Knight’s boss had said about her and he enjoyed every expression. Yeah, he thought, I could make that work. But he didn’t want to rush it. And if Deep Blue had his way, Knight would have plenty of time to make things work.

“Yeah,” he said. “My boss. Here is what I’m authorized to tell you. Your knowledge of certain Manifold facilities, your exceptional record, your experience with security, your current “off the grid” status and having proven yourself to me—the team—twice, makes you uniquely qualified for a job.”

“A job? You’re hiring mercs now?”

“Actually, we can, but not you. Deep Blue, my boss, was wondering if you’d like to head up Chess Team’s internal security. It would be a full-time position. In the States. No running. No hiding.”

Beck turned toward the smooth blue ocean, lost in thought, her expression unreadable. When Knight could no longer take the silence he said, “Personally, I hope you turn him down. I don’t know if I could stand to see you so often.”

Beck smiled and turned to him. “Well, if it would annoy you, I’m in.”

Knight couldn’t hide how much her answer pleased him.

A new kind of silence passed between them. It ended when Beck cleared her throat. “You know, for a Spec Ops killer, you’re kind of a chicken shit.”

“What?” Knight said, taken aback.

“You can kiss me now.”

Knight froze in place for just a moment and then thought, screw taking it slow. He pulled his feet out of the sand, stood on the tips of his toes and kissed her. Almost dying had never seemed so worthwhile.