“I think I can do you one better,” Gayle said quickly, stepping on any response from Nisha. “Four, resume your scheduled exfil via the ferry. One, proceed to ground floor of the parking garage and stand by for instructions.”

“Roger that, Mother,” Jed said, unable to suppress a tight grin.

Maybe he’d misjudged the CIA.

Apparently Gayle wasn’t going to leave them high and dry after all.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

GRAND HARBOUR VIEW SUITE, EIGHTEENTH FLOOR

FOUR SEASONS HOTEL HONG KONG

1206 HOURS LOCAL

Gayle stared in horror at the satellite feed on her laptop. A convoy of police vehicles, lights flashing, was screaming down the highway in the direction of St. Paul’s Hospital—exactly where Nightingale Two had been headed before she had diverted them to the parking garage.

Coincidence? I think not.

“Joshua, Mother—you have incoming,” she said into her boom mic, her voice a tight cord. “They’ll be at the hospital in five minutes. When they discover the package was not admitted, it won’t take long for them to pull CCTV footage and trace your route to the parking garage. It’s time to ditch the ambulance.”

“The package is not ambulatory,” came Jed’s immediate and tense reply. “Until we have replacement wheels, we ain’t ditching anything.”

“Understood,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Mother, Actual—tell me the truth,” Nisha said, her tone hot and clipped. “Do you have an exfil in progress or do I need to make it happen?”

“In progress. I got this,” she said and prayed she could deliver on that promise, regardless of what happened to her career. She clicked the icon labeled Team 2 on her computer to open the comms channel to her standby CIA team, which consisted of a driver, a pilot, and a shooter. These men were tasked with managing her exfil in the event of an emergency.

Well, I think this constitutes an emergency.

“Dragon,” a stern voice greeted her on the line. “Execute Alpha?”

Alpha was the code word to activate the protocol.

“Negative, Dragon,” she said, packing everything but her computer into the bag. “Stand by for new tasking. You have alternate passengers.”

“I was told to prepare for your emergency exfil only—”

“The situation has changed,” she said, summoning her most commanding voice and a little disappointed at the result. “Proceed to the ground floor parking garage for Garden Towers north. Picking up five—four shooters and the package. Package is not ambulatory. Expedite.”

“Is there incoming pressure?”

“Yes. Hurry,” she said.

After a flurry of curses, her exfil team leader acknowledged the order and then said, “What about you? We need to get you first.”

“There’s no time. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl . . . I’ll get to the airfield.”

“Roger, Dragon diverting to alternate pickup,” the team leader said.

Gayle transferred comms from her notebook to her smartphone, shoved the computer in her backpack, and marched out of her hotel room.