“At the airport here you led us over to a man who was waiting for us.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He was holding up a sign in Mandarin with the name Dai Lu, I recall.”
Nash felt his gut start to burn. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I was not aware that you knew my real name.”
Temple had told Nash that that was her Chinese name and he could have simply informed Masuyo of that fact. But if Masuyo then went after Temple for knowing that information, that might disrupt what Nash and the FBI were trying to accomplish.
“I do my due diligence and I listen. I find it increases the chances of success.”
She stared at him and he wasn’t sure if she believed him or not, but Nash had to be somewhat vague in his response.
“I see,” she said.
He could feel her watching him as he left.
Did I just blow everything the hell up?
As they were heading to the elevator, Thura looked at Nash and said fearfully, “You know what I am thinking, Dillon?”
“No, what?”
“That we’re gonna earn every damn dollar we’re paid working for that woman.”
CHAPTER
33
AFTER A TIME NASH ANDThura had been allowed to go out by themselves in Hong Kong. Nash knew the city fairly well, having been there on business when he worked at Sybaritic.
Hong Kong was one of the most densely populated places on earth, and the influence of its Chinese master was felt everywhere. And yet it was also energetic and exciting. Once or twice Nash almost forgot that he was a prisoner of Victoria Steers.
He and Thura had walked through some parks, taken in some shows, and ridden on the sightseeing boats. They had eaten at good restaurants and had even taken a ferry to Macau and gambled some dollars away. The fascinating tram tours and the delicious dim sum had particularly delighted Thura.
And Thura had been provided with women, or so he told Nash one day in Nash’s apartment. Lots of them.
He’d exclaimed, “Oh my God, man, unbelievable. The most beautiful women. And they’ll do anything you want. Anything.”
“Thura, I really don’t need to hear the details, okay?”
“Have you had women?”
“No.”
“Do you not like women?”
“I don’t like women who are provided to me, because they don’t have a choice.”
Thura’s enthusiasm had drained away. “Not a choice? This I did not know.”
“What, you thought they were all in love with you?”
Thura had leaned against the wall, his features perplexed. “I. . .maybe next time I will just talk to them, you know. Just talk. Or we could listen to music, or dance. Get to know each other. Then. . .if they want to . . .”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Nash had told him.