Choke Point by Jay MacLarty Read Free Book Online Page B

or down.
    One of the security men popped an umbrella and pulled open the door. Mawl clicked off a couple quick profile shots before a head of honey-blond hair disappeared beneath the cone of black silk. “Not Li Quan, that’s for sure.”
    Staring into the optic tubes of his binoculars, Robbie whistled softly. “Pretty damn sweet for an old bird.”
    Old! The woman didn’t look more than thirty-five, but to Jocko, who had never shagged anything older than a teenager, she must have looked like a golden oldie. “Rynerson’s daughter, that’s my guess.”
    “Who’s the fella?”
    Mawl clicked off a half-dozen more shots before they disappeared into the lobby. “Not a clue.”
    “Husband?”
    “Not if it’s Rynerson’s daughter. She’s a widow.”
    “That right? She looks pretty young to be a widow.”
    Mawl smiled to himself—from old bird to pretty young in a heartbeat—and began paging through his background file on Rynerson. “Yeah, that’s her. Kyra Rynerson. I want you on her security team.”
    Robbie stared across the narrow space, his eyes devoid of understanding. “And just how am I supposed to be doing that?”
    “You have the perfect profile,” Mawl answered. “Ex-military. Young. English speaking. That’s exactly what they’ll be looking for. Most important, when they call the Kowloon Security Service to check your references—” He tapped the cell phone on his belt. “It’ll be me they’re talking to.”
    “Well sure, that sounds great,” Robbie said, sounding anything but confident. “But what if they’re not hiring.”
    Mawl smiled to himself. The kid was so bloody naïve. “Trust me, they’ll have an opening.”

C HAPTER S EVEN
     

Hospitalar Centro Conde São Januário de Macau
     
    Friday, 29 June 01:51:38 GMT +0800
     
    Hospitals, Simon thought, they were all the same, the air thick with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectants, everything gray and white and sterile—including the people. Without so much as a pause, the security team escorted them through the reception area, up the elevator, and down a long hall to a door marked in both Chinese and English: ICU OBSERVATION . The room was nondescript and sparsely furnished—a small gray table with a phone, sandwiched between two gray chairs—about the size of a jail cell.
    Simon closed the door behind him, feeling a little awkward and out of place as Kyra embraced her mother. Though the Rynersons had always treated him with great kindness, he wasn’t exactly sure how he fit in, where that dividing line came between friendship and hired help. Finally, after a long, silent minute, Billie turned and took both his hands. “Thanks for coming.” She squeezed hard, the way a person does when they’re hanging on to a life preserver. “I knew we could count on you.”
    “Of course.” For exactly what, he had no idea, but suspected the answer to that question would come soon enough. “Any change?”
    “Absolutely.” She reached over and pulled open a short miniblind that covered most of one wall. “All good.”
    Kyra took a step back, stricken by the scene beyond the glass: her father, the indomitable Big Jake Rynerson, reduced to a comatose mass, his great body being fed through tubes of plastic, his head covered with silver electrodes, his vital signs monitored by an array of electronic meters and monitors. “Daddy…” The word squeezed past her lips in a gasp, like she’d been holding it in for hours.
    “No, honey, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Billie said, putting an arm around her daughter’s waist. “Really.”
    “How?” Kyra demanded, pulling away from her mother’s grasp. “How could it look any worse?”
    Exactly what Simon was asking himself. To his untrained eyes it looked worse than bad —it looked fatal.
    “He’s breathing on his own,” Billie answered, “and his vital signs are strong. That’s a big improvement.”
    Kyra shook her head, not buying any of it. “You told me he had a