The words hit like ice water. “Airborne how?”
“The building schematics in the files I downloaded are for ICONSIAM. Busiest retail center in Thailand, thousands of people every day.”
Chloe looked at Skeet. “How will they attack?”
“We don’t know. Ham is sending the team to Bangkok. You two need to get there now. We need to confirm what we’re dealing with before we can plan an intervention at the mall.”
“Send me the coordinates,” Skeet said, already reaching for his shirt. “We’ll be on the road in twenty minutes.”
“Already done. And Skeet? Be careful. If we’re right about this, Volkov is developing a bioweapon.”
The line went dead, leaving Skeet and Chloe staring at each other across the remnants of their interrupted lunch.
“Vacation over,” Skeet said, but his tone was flat, all the warmth from their conversation evaporated.
Chloe nodded. “We should pack,” she said, getting up.
“Right.”
They moved toward the cabana’s exit, the romantic paradise suddenly a farce. At the entrance, Skeet paused, his hand on her arm.
“Chloe.”
She looked at him, her heart thundering.
“This conversation isn’t over.”
The promise in his voice made her pulse skip. Andshoot—again, no coordination between her brain and heart, because she said, “Okay.”
“Good.” His fingers squeezed gently before releasing her. “Because when this is finished—when we stop Volkov and save those people—we’re going to figure out what comes next.”
She gave a nod—a nod!—but said nothing else as they hurried back to their rooms, as she threw clothes into her bag with shaking hands, as they checked out of paradise and headed toward whatever waited in Bangkok.
Because if she was honest, she didn’t want the honeymoon to end.
Surveillance was just an excuse to eat street food and avoid important conversations.
At least, that’s what Skeet was going with after six hours of silence and humidity as they parked outside the warehouse Coco had found near one of Bangkok’s industrial wharves.
The rental car reeked of sweat, coffee, and lemongrass. Chloe had found some spring rolls and pad thai earlier, and now the containers sat in the back seat, souring in the sun. That and the diesel fumes from passing trucks mixed with the smell of welding from a nearby shop and the funk of river water all swilled into an industrial cocktail that made his eyes water.
Beside him, Chloe lowered the binoculars and rubbed her temples. “Still nothing.”
He adjusted the rearview mirror for the hundredth time, watching the warehouse district shimmer in Bangkok’s twilight heat. The Chao Phraya River curved beyond the industrial zone, its muddy waters reflecting the concrete and steel that lined both banks.
The district sprawled along the river’s edge—corrugated-metal warehouses, loading docks jutting into the brown water, and truck terminals where 18-wheelers maneuvered between buildings that had seen better decades. Massive cargo containers stacked like LEGOs created a maze between the water and themain road, while overhead cranes arched, skeletons against the hazy sky.
Longtail boats puttered past barges loaded with rice and construction materials.
“Patience.” The word came out rougher than intended. Hard to sound Zen when your nerves felt like live wires.
What does that mean?Maybe he’d cut her off because he didn’t really want to know the end of that sentence. Because somewhere along the way, she’d started to mean more to him than just... well, a partner.
Like he’d said in Bangkok—they were far,farfrom partners.
They’d left the resort yesterday afternoon—paradise to this in less than twenty-four hours. Last night at the Bangkok Airbnb had been all business. He’d rented a car, found them an Airbnb big enough for the team, grabbed some winks, then met her for breakfast before finding the warehouse.
The stakeout had started at noon. Now the sun was sliding toward the horizon, painting the warehouse walls orange.