“I play dumb, he plays video games. It keeps him out of my hair.” Paul swallowed. “What little of it is left.” He heaped more chicken and rice onto his plate. “You didn’t mention how your trip to the warehouse went.”

“It didn’t exactly go the way I’d planned. I couldn’t get in.”

“You showed them your credentials?”

“Yeah. Didn’t matter. What’s weird is that Lian said she had nothing to do with it.”

“But somebody’s hiding something.”

“No doubt.”

“How do you plan on getting in?”

Jack grinned. “My winning personality.”

Paul picked up the nearly empty box of curry. “You want any more?”

“Knock yourself out.”

The back door burst open.

—

Jack leaped to his feet as men in tactical gear charged in, guns drawn. But two powerful hands shoved him back down by the shoulders from behind as the cold steel of a rifle barrel pressed against his face.

Paul sat in his chair, mouth open and full of curry, gasping like a carp in the bottom of a boat.

The men in black tactical gear all had POLICE blazoned across their bulletproof vests. Jack heard boots thundering up the stairs and shouts in English and Mandarin.

A short, powerfully built man with lieutenant’s bars sewn onto his collar stepped forward, holstering his pistol.

“You are under arrest!”

“On what charge?” Jack demanded.

“Possession of drugs.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack ignored the crashing, banging, and thudding on the ceiling. It just meant their rooms were being torn apart upstairs.

Another policeman lifted Paul to his feet, his jowly face white with panic.

“Arms behind your back!”

Paul nodded, complying. Plastic cuffs zipped behind him, pinching his wrists. He winced with pain.

The lieutenant pointed at Jack. “You. Stand up. Hands behind your back.”

“You’ve made a mistake,” Jack said, standing. Another cop zip-cuffed him.

Something crashed on the floor above them. Paul startled, staring at the ceiling. The lieutenant noticed.

“Mistake? Then why is your friend so scared? Afraid my men will find something?”

“You won’t find any drugs,” Jack said. “Not even a stick of Juicy Fruit.”

The lieutenant got in Jack’s face. “Don’t you realize the penalty for drug smuggling in Singapore is death?”

“Yeah, I read about that—”

“What’s going on here?” Lian barked as she marched into the kitchen, Park right behind her, his face a brutal mask.

“Who are you?” the lieutenant demanded.

“Lian Fairchild. I own this place. What’s the meaning of all this?”

The cocky lieutenant softened. “Fairchild? I know that name. Weren’t you with STAR?”

“Yes. What of it?”

“And your father—”

“Answer my question, Lieutenant!”

“My unit received an anonymous tip that there were illegal narcotics stashed in this place.”

Lian pointed at Jack. “You think this man is an international drug smuggler?”

The lieutenant scowled. “The tip was legitimate—”

“Do you know who he is?”