Choke Point by Jay MacLarty Read Free Book Online

population into a hopeless arms race—it was simply a matter of self-defense. “Have you apprehended the person responsible?”
    “Not to this moment,” Wu answered. “But I have been assured by the commissioner of police that this occurrence is only a matter of time.”
    “Excellent,” Simon said, as if he actually believed Wu’s straight-out-of-the-movies answer. “If there’s a problem, I’m sure the FBI would be happy to help with your investigation. Mr. Rynerson is a very important person in our country.”
    Wu’s face tightened, as if someone had just rammed a hot poker up his ass. “I assure you, sir, this help will not be necessary.”
    Simon nodded, quite certain that was exactly the message Mr. Gao Wu had been sent to deliver. “That’s good to hear.”
    Mission accomplished, Wu stamped their passports and welcomed them to Macau, as if they were tourists on holiday.
    “Thank you,” Kyra said, stuffing the passport into her shoulder bag. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Wu, but I would like to get to the hospital.”
    “Of course,” Wu answered, backing toward the door. He made another shallow bow, repeated his concern for “the great taipan,” then disappeared into the darkness.
    Five minutes later they were on their way to the Conde São Januário Central Hospital, their limousine bracketed between two black Land Rovers, each containing a driver and three security guards. Kyra reached over and pressed a button on the door panel, lowering the privacy window. “Excuse me, do either of you gentlemen speak English?”
    The man riding shotgun, a stocky fellow with high cheekbones and Mongolian features, glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am, what can I do for you?”
    “What’s with all the security? Has something happened?”
    “Couldn’t tell you, ma’am. You’d have to ask Mrs. Rynerson about that.”
    “Thank you.” She closed the window and leaned back into the corner. “Should have guessed.”
    Simon tried to read her expression, but could barely make out her face in the car’s dark interior. “After what happened to your father, you can’t blame her for worrying.”
    She expelled a frustrated sigh. “She knows how I hate their fishbowl lifestyle.”
    “Get used to it.”
    “Why should I?” she demanded, her voice suddenly sharp. “It’s not my life. I didn’t choose it. It’s not what I want.”
    “Kyra, with all due respect, it’s about time you pulled that pretty head of yours out of your hinder.”
    She leaned forward, her green eyes flashing in the soft glow of the streetlights. “Just what the hell do you mean by that?”
    “You’re heir to the kingdom. You may not have chosen it, you may not like it, but that’s the way it is. So live with it, learn to enjoy it, or retire to some nunnery in the French Alps. Either way, it’s time you decide who you want to be, and stop blaming others for who you are.
    “You don’t understand what it’s like being the daughter of—”
    “And don’t,” he interrupted, “give me that I-don’t-understand bullshit. Yes, you had a terrible experience. Yes, it happened because of your father’s wealth. And yes, you lost your husband. But that’s all in the past—get over it! There are way too many people who go to bed hungry every night. There are babies born every minute with physical and mental handicaps. There are—”
    “Okay, okay.” She held up a hand, as if to ward off a blow. “I get the picture.”
    But these were things he should have said long ago, and he wasn’t about to be put off. “It’s time for you to see things for what they are, Kyra. You’ve got a wonderful little boy, healthy and bright. You’ve got parents who love you, and who, ironically enough, because of what happened to you, are back together. You’re so pretty you make a man’s eyes hurt. You’re funny and smart and—”
    “Stop it! Please! I understand. I get it. I’m an ungrateful bitch. I need to…” The sentence died