She’d seen pictures of T’phong Soh before, but she’d never met him in person. She was struck by how small he was. It wasn’t just that he was short, but he was slight as well. He was wearing a sweatshirt that seemed to swallow him whole. And yet she could see the veins under the tattoos on his arms.

He regarded her the way a lion regards prey—sizing her up with an evaluative eye and a touch of indifference. She had no sense that he felt she was a threat to him in any way. It seemed as though he was trying to decide whether she was worth his time.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment.

She frowned. “For what?”

“For agreeing to see me.” His English was perfect, but his accent was so thick it was a challenge to understand him.

There were three others in the room. Kit recognized Juan Suarez from pictures in the FBI’s files on MS-13, though it looked like he’d had a rough week. The bruises on his face were deep purple, and the cut on his forehead was prominent. The other two were unknown to her, but they were covered with similar tattoos that adorned Soh up to his chin, and they both held automatic assault rifles.

“I was told you had information regarding Javier Carpio and an attempt that he will make to free his brother.”

“I do,” Soh said simply. “Would you like that information?”

“If it’s accurate.”

“My information is always accurate.”

“How can you be sure?”

Soh hesitated for only a moment. “Because he has asked me to help him with the plan.” He continued to look at her, gauging her reaction, and she wondered what he could see in her face. She’d always been a good poker player, and she prided herself on the ability to keep her emotions to herself, but she could feel her heart beating faster at the prospect of turning Soh into an asset, and making sure that Vincente Carpio never saw freedom again.

“Why would he ask you for that kind of help?” she asked, feigning doubt. She knew that Soh had been working with the Carpios, and there was no question in her mind that they would have involved Soh in any escape attempt. The only question was whether his offer to provide her with information was genuine.

“He has offered me certain … contacts that could be profitable for me in exchange for my help,” Soh said slowly. He spoke slowly, so that Steele would understand him, even through his accent. “I admit that I have been tempted by his offer.”

Tempted was an understatement, she knew. The intel on Soh made clear that he was active in the drug trade. There was no question that contacts from Javier Carpio would be priceless to Soh. “But…?” Steele prodded him to continue.