The tags from Tenchant’s jacket had been lying beside the sink in the powder room. It was Andes blue, made of ripstop nylon with a waterproof finish, half-elastic cuffs, and a draw-cord hem. The hood adjusted with one pull and was guaranteed not to block the wearer’s peripheral vision. The whole thing was capable of folding into its own breast pocket. All the protections, Klay thought, as he washed his hands.

He’d told Tenchant they needed to be inconspicuous in the field—none of his usual biker jewelry, no motorcycle boots—and he guessed the jacket was his effort to comply. Tenchant’s hair was washed, his boots were good for hiking, and his silver skull ring was gone, leaving only a black wedding band and a runner’s wristwatch. Klay was surprised Tenchant had gotten through personnel. Beyond his clothing, Tenchant’s sinewy arms were tattooed shoulder to wrist, each sleeve featuring a Japanese Nio, a wrath-filled, muscular guardian of the Buddha. Tenchant’s guardians were Agyo and Ungyo, protectors of Todai-ji temple.

“I mean it, Tom,” Maggie continued. “I’ve been reading about the white farm murders. Women set on fire, children decapitated—”

“Mags—” Tenchant said.

“Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Tenchant cocked his head and looked at Klay as if stupid was what he liked to do.

“We’re headed out on a paper trail, Maggie, not a jungle trail,” Klay said. “Besides, I thought our man here was taking karate.”

Tenchant took a piece of cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese from his wife’s plate and popped it into his mouth.

“Taking it?” Maggie said. “He’s a black belt!”

Klay was surprised. He’d assumed Tenchant was just a beginner. A blue belt, maybe.

Tenchant shrugged.

“Well, maybe it will be Tenchant protecting me,” Klay said.

“It’s a good sign,” Maggie said. “Isn’t it? Sending him with you. They’ll keep him on, don’t you think?”

“She’s worried about the acquisition,” Tenchant explained. He picked up a napkin and wiped cream cheese off his fingertips. “Rumor is big layoffs are coming.”

“It’s a good sign, Mags,” Klay said.

Outside, their driver honked his horn. Tenchant placed a hand on his wife’s belly. “I’ll be back soon, little fella.”

“You text me every day,” Maggie said.

“I’ll text you every day,” Tenchant said.

They kissed goodbye.

“Not one bent hair,” she said, smoothing her husband’s unruly mop. Tenchant rolled his suitcase toward the door.

Klay put out his hand to say goodbye. Maggie took it and gave Klay a peck on the cheek. “I mean it, Tom,” she whispered. “Please be careful. For my family.”

Klay picked up his duffel bag. “I’ll have him back in ten days. Promise.”

•   •   •