“Not anymore.”
Not that Fa had any doubt, but the presence of the CIA was final confirmation that Merrick knew Poisonfeather’s identity.
Ogden’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“He hasn’t done so well by you, has he?” Fa said.
“No. What are you offering?”
“An apartment in Shanghai overlooking the Huangpu River. The opportunity to be a stockbroker again with one of China’s finest investment firms. Citizenship in the greatest country on earth. And of course a generous consulting fee.”
“How generous?”
“Ten million. US.”
“I want twenty.”
Fa chuckled. Even tied to a chair in a room full of bodies, Charles Merrick wanted to negotiate. The identity of Poisonfeather was worth ten times that amount to his government.
Veronica Merrick interrupted. “I’ll give you the name for nine.”
That was an unexpected development. Fa pulled off her hood.
“How nice to meet you, Mrs. Merrick. You know the name?”
“Of course I know the name. Who do you think ran Merrick Capital? Charles? That would’ve cut into his mirror-gazing time.”
“Veronica, what do you think you are doing?”
“Negotiating my release.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Negotiating your release. I learned my lesson eight years ago when you changed the passwords on our accounts. Do you think I’m going to sit idly by while you double-cross me again?”
“You want to talk about a double cross? Let’s talk about the fact that we started Merrick Capital together, but somehow your name wasn’t on a single document. You reaped the reward and left me to take the fall.”
“Charles. You wanted to play the big man and cast me as the little lady. Well, big men go to jail.”
Fa watched them in wonder. Despite being tied to chairs, despite the bodies at their feet, despite the surging gunfire, neither Merrick possessed any inkling of the direness of their situation.
“It’s a package deal, or I tell him now for nothing,” Veronica Merrick snapped. “I would have gone to the press before just to see you suffer. I’ll do it again now.”
The Merricks glowered at each other.
“Okay, okay, you win. A package deal.” Merrick looked to Fa. “Get us out of the country, and we’ll give you the name.”
“This is treason, Merrick,” Ogden yelled. “Do you understand that?”
Fa cracked the butt of his gun across Ogden’s head, and the man went limp. He cut Merrick free as a crash in the hall caught his ear. Fa handed Merrick the knife.
“Cut her loose. Be ready when I get back. I’m going to check our exit.”
Fa drew his gun and glanced out into the deserted fifth-floor hallway. Sporadic gunfire echoed up the stairwell; the battle had reached a stalemate. If the Merricks followed his instructions and kept quiet, there was still time to get away. He recognized the enormity of that if. He calculated the time to get the Merricks to his safe house and make arrangements for their exfiltration. He hadn’t counted on phone service getting knocked out. That had set him back, but he had a satellite phone at the safe house.
That left Damon Ogden. Leaving him alive was a risk, but killing a CIA agent on American soil was an act of war. Even the identity of Poisonfeather couldn’t justify an unsanctioned assassination. But if Ogden somehow managed to raise the alarm, it would complicate matters. Fa scratched the back of his head. Then again, the man was tied to a chair in a building rigged to burn. Sometimes the thing to do was to do nothing at all. These situations had a way of working themselves out.
In the hall, an upended planter led Fa to a thin blood trail on the carpet leading from the room where he’d stashed Chelsea Merrick. Somehow she was gone; a bloody handprint on the doorknob marked her exit. It didn’t seem possible, but he saw no drag marks; she had gotten up on her own. His admiration for her continued to grow. Most people would have lain down and died, but not this woman. She didn’t stand much of a chance, but Fa wished her good fortune.
Fa went back to the presidential suite to collect his cargo. Charles Merrick hadn’t cut the ropes binding his ex-wife to the chair. It took Fa a moment to understand the blood on the knife. The blood everywhere. Merrick had put her hood back on. Had not looking into her eyes made it easier? Nonetheless, he’d made a mess of it, but he hadn’t given up. American stick-to-itiveness at its finest. Merrick stood over Veronica Merrick’s body; his shoulders shook, and he looked to Fa, eyes wide.
“Twenty million.”
Fa raised his gun. “Drop the knife.”
“I want twenty million.”
“Twenty million,” Fa agreed. “Now the knife. Put it down.”
Merrick did as he was told and looked at Fa with sundown eyes.
“It’s not the same, getting your own hands dirty, is it?” Fa asked.
“Twenty million.”
How Fa despised these people.
CHAPTER FORTY
The tile floor felt cool against her face. She might be content to lie here forever, though Lea didn’t imagine forever would be that long in coming. Still, the idea of dying facedown on a hotel kitchen floor didn’t appeal to her any more than dying in an anonymous hotel room. With what strength remained, she raised herself to a sitting position and put her back against a wall between two stacks of boxes. Better. Not good, but better. A shaft of moonlight lit the kitchen in pretty blues it didn’t deserve. All around, boxes stacked like haphazard skyscrapers formed a cardboard skyline that reminded Lea of the New York of her childhood.
What an odd place to die, she thought, but couldn’t think of anywhere better. Not that it was up to her. Her legs could take her no farther. They hadn’t been in a cooperative frame of mind, and the old, disused servant staircase, warped and uneven with age, had exhausted their patience. They’d gone out from under her at the top of the last flight, and she’d tumbled her way to the kitchen floor. Not that it had hurt. Strangely, nothing hurt, although her hands and legs felt terribly cold. Didn’t seem right to die and feel fine. If she didn’t look down, it was almost possible to forget that she was even shot.
Honestly, dying didn’t sound so bad. Today hadn’t given her the satisfaction she thought it would, but she’d done what she’d set out to do. She took comfort in the knowledge that this had all been her decision. That would have to be enough.