Page 92 of The Last Kingdom

He was taking a chance coming here, but a call earlier as he was leaving the Residenz had requested his presence, in person, at noon. And, considering who made the call, and what was at stake, he could not ignore the summons.

He’d brought Lexi Blake with him.

For two reasons.

First, to impress upon her his importance to all that was happening. And, second, to somehow lay the groundwork for having her. She was both physically stunning and professionally capable. Something about beautiful dangerous women. Perhaps that’s what attracted him to working girls. It took guts to give yourself to a stranger night after night, all the while making them feel special. It was acting on a grand scale, and the women he frequented were more than skilled in both the art of lovemaking and convincing their clients that they were something more than a revenue source. Lexi Blake offered all that and more, since she was not for sale.

Or maybe she was?

All he had to do was determine the price.

Didn’t everyone have one?

“Wait here,” he said to Lexi as they stood in the consulate foyer.

She nodded and took a seat across the room.

He announced his presence to the guard.

Stefan sat inside a spacious, bright exterior room adorned with woodwork, cabinets, and tables, all of fine Chinese workmanship. A silk painting, stiff and textured with gold characters, hung from one wall. Several bronzes and some exquisite jade carvings sat atop one of the larger redwood tables. This seemed a place to make a visitor feel as though they were in China. And, legally, they were, as the soil beneath him was part of the People’s Republic. Which was a bit of a joke. Since the country was not a republic in any way and the people had zero power.

A white-jacketed attendant asked if he wanted anything to drink, but he declined. A moment later a middle-aged, austere-looking man with a thin, aesthetic face entered. He wore a trim-fitting dark blue suit and walked with a limp, leaning on a red-lacquered cane.

Stefan stood out of respect.

“So good of you to come,” the man said in perfect German.

He studied his host, whose face betrayed nothing, noticing the eyes. Dark. But gentle. Like the voice. Which raised alarms.

“And you are?” he asked.

“My name is irrelevant.” He pointed to a blue-and-white porcelain vase. “Call me Ming, in honor of that beautiful work of art.”

No hand was offered to shake.

Fine by him. He didn’t particularly care for the Chinese. Just a necessary evil, with an emphasis onevil.

“I am aware of your conversation last night with two prominent members of the German government,” Ming said. “In light of that, I thought it best that we have a personal chat. The situation has changed.”

He did not like the sound of that. “Since last night? I was told I had three days to work with.”

“And you still do. But information has come to my attention that the American Central Intelligence Agency is now involved. They are after the same thing you are.”

He was shocked. “Why?”

“Your brother brought them in.”

Albert? “You can’t be serious.”

“The duke is a personal acquaintance of a CIA agent named Derrick Koger.” Ming removed a cell phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen and displayed the image of a man nearing sixty. “Have you ever seen him?”

Yes, he had. In the photo that his man at the Residenz had shown him a little while ago. He nodded and explained, then asked, “Why are the Americans dealing with my brother? He’s dying. He only has a few months left to live.”

“He’s alive at the moment, and definitely interested in what you are doing.”

Okay. So what? “I can handle him.”

Ming tapped his cane to the hardwood floor twice. The door opened and a man entered. Chesty, thick blond hair whitened at the temples, jowls expanded, the nose slightly pugged, a jaw prowlike and combative. He strutted like someone who’d been around and knew the world.

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