Page 29 of Wired Fear

“Leni Keng has provided me a video conferencing link,” Sophie said. “I’d like to make this call here, so you can witness everything.”

“Of course.” Connor got up and poured the tea. He placed the matching cups and teapot on a tray and returned with them to the table. She would tell him what was really going on when she was ready.

Sophie activated software to record the video conference call. Connor slid a little closer to her when he resumed his seat so that he could see her screen but was still out of view of the camera.

Moments later, a young man’s face appeared. Long hair in a ponytail and a plain white tee set off golden skin and Asian features.

As Connor had been concerned might happen, the two spoke rapidly in Thai, too quickly for his beginning language skills to follow. He caught about every third word. He watched Sophie’s face, and the scrunch of her brows told him she wasn’t pleased with what she was hearing.

Connor battled frustration at not understanding the language.He’d run the whole thing through a translation program later and replay it as often as he wanted. The two techs wrapped up the call, and Sophie punched the end button on her keyboard briskly.

She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, then sat back and met his eyes squarely for the first time that day.

“I still don’t know what my mother really wants, even after talking to Keng. The Yam Khûmk?n maintains a practically invisible digital footprint, and they have no plans of changing that. Keng told me that yes, there have been incursions, but the leaks were done the old-fashioned way: someone from within the organization outed agents’ identities to Interpol. It had to have been done old-school, through in-person spying, or as a payoff for information. There is no roster of agents anywhere on a computer that Keng is aware of. The Yam stays off the grid. It’s part of their defensive strategy.”

“What is this job that she wants you to do, then?” Connor turned the handleless cup around and around in his hands. “I don’t trust your mother as far as I can throw her.”

“Yes. My mother is petite, but she would be difficult to hurl any distance. So that’s a good analogy.”

Connor flicked a glance at Sophie’s face to make sure she wasn’t teasing him, but her serious mien told him that she had, indeed, interpreted his turn of phrase literally. He suppressed a smile. He really loved her pedantic moments. “Pim Wat is playing a deep game.”

Should he tell Sophie how the Ghost had been manipulating Pim Wat through selective information?

No.

Sophie would not like how he’d been using her mother to eliminate threats and enemies. Even though the kills Pim Wat had performed with the information he’d fed her showed the assassin’s true colors, her actions also showed how far the woman would go to protect her offspring. Sophie might interpret that as love, when Pim Wat’s murders were nothing but narcissistic, possessive self-interest.

Pim Wat wanted Sophie for some purpose not yet revealed.

They might have to go all the way to the stronghold in Thailand to find out what it was, and that wasn’t a risk worth taking.

“We should get back to McDonald with this information from the stick drive and Keng. Tell him that we are currently stymied,” Sophie said. “We’ve run into a wall, as they say.”

“Nice turn of phrase.” Connor refilled their teacups. “Let’s give him a call on the secure number he provided.”

Sophie nodded. Moments later, she set her phone on a stand between them. The CIA agent’s voice fizzled slightly on the phone’s speaker. “Devin McDonald.”

“This is Sophie Ang, Mr. McDonald. You’re on speaker. I’m with Mr. Hamilton of Security Solutions. We are in a secure location for this conversation.”

“Good. What have you got for me?” McDonald didn’t waste any time.

“I met with Pim Wat in a park yesterday, and she gave me a stick drive that was supposedly going to show me what the job for the Yam Khûmk?n was. There was hardly anything on it: a few read-only files stored in the Cloud, an application portal, and contact info for their tech agent. I just got off of a videoconference with that person. His name is Leni Keng.” Sophie took a sip of tea and continued. “The tech confirmed that the Yam Khûmk?n has no centralized database and no online presence that the organization wants to maintain. He was confused as to why I was getting involved at all. I did not tell him how I came to have his contact information, only that I had been recruited by someone from the Yam to provide further tech support and wanted to get started.” Sophie poured a little more tea. “My impression was that Keng was telling the truth. He honestly seemed to wonder what I could do or add to the current strategy he’d been tasked with—which was maintaining as little of a cyber presence as possible. In fact, the man said he spends the majority of his time tracking online mentions of the Yam Khûmk?n and removing them from the Web.”

“Sounds fishy as hell.” McDonald growled. “Do you think that there might be some other agenda going on? Maybe Pim Wat is off the reservation on this recruitment attempt and going it alone for her own reasons. You are her daughter, after all.”

“What does that mean, ‘off the reservation?’” Sophie’s brows drew together. “Sounds like a racist phrase referring to Native Americans. Are you implying that my mother could be using the Yam Khûmk?n for her own personal purposes?”

“Pim Wat wants you to go to the temple stronghold, and so do we. That’s the logical next step in finding out more.” McDonald sounded testy.

“Regardless, I won’t go.” Sophie said. When Connor glanced over at her, Sophie’s arm muscles were tight as she crossed her fists over her waist.

“We need more from Pim Wat herself,” Connor said. “Why she reached out to Sophie. Why she’s been so persistent, but so uncommunicative about her actual purpose.”

“Maybe the agency should grab Pim Wat. Ship her out to Guantánamo for a little questioning,” McDonald said. “That can easily be arranged.”

“Are you threatening my mother? Trying to gain my compliance by blackmailing me with her safety?” Sophie’s voice trembled with outrage.

“I’m just saying that Pim Wat is behaving in a suspicious manner and would benefit from being formally interviewed. There is more than one way to skin a cat.” The agent ended the call with a click.

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