match. She’d proven that tonight.
With a wrench that took him back to a place he never wanted to go again, Hawk yielded the field and extended a hand to Nareesh. “Good to meet you.”
He couldn’t miss Jilly’s flash of triumph. It stayed on her face until she turned back to the observation window.
“They won’t hurt them, will they?”
After his session with the folks at the Center, Hawk had a pretty good idea what might happen to the primates. It wasn’t pretty.
“Depends on whether they show signs of infection.”
“If they don’t?”
“I don’t know. They might be used for testing or research. Or turned over to a zoo,” he added as Jilly’s brows snapped together.
“Poor babies,” she muttered again. “I wonder…”
Her lips pursed, and her expression turned thoughtful. Hawk had a sudden vision of Jilly showing up at the Ridgeway place with two hairy primates in tow. Maggie wouldn’t mind. He could only imagine Adam’s reaction.
“Ben, promise you’ll keep me posted on what happens to these little guys.”
Her request took the FBI agent by surprise. Obviously, he’d assumed his responsibility for the animals ended with the raid.
“I…uh…sure.”
The man was putty in Jilly’s hands.
Join the club, Hawk thought sardonically.
“Or,” Nareesh countered in an attempt to wiggle out of the charge, “you could probably get the folks here at the Center to advise you directly.”
“I could, if my partner and I weren’t leaving for Hong Kong as soon as we throw a few things in a bag.”
Enough was enough. Goaded, Hawk hooked her arm and swung her around. “Damn it, Gillian. How many surprises are you planning to pull tonight?”
“Sorry.”
Her contrite look didn’t fool him for a minute.
“I should have mentioned it right away. One of the worshippers arrested in the raid told us how the sacrificial animals were smuggled into the States.”
She paused, playing the info for all it was worth. Hawk had to concede she’d earned her moment of glory.
“They were hidden inside a shipping container packed with antiques exported from Hong Kong. The shipping agency is Wang and Company.”
Behind her tinted contacts, her eyes held only limpid innocence.
“Unless your Chinese is better than mine, Hawk, you might want to reconsider whether or not I’ll be in the way when you call on Mr. Wang.”
Chapter 3
Early the next morning, Hawk contacted the San Francisco detectives investigating Charlie Duncan’s murder. They had no witnesses, no suspects and no leads. Frustrated, he used the remaining hours before he and Jilly departed for Hong Kong to supervise her transition from one-time Foreign Service Officer and temporary executive assistant to full-fledged undercover operative.
Jilly discovered a new Mike Callahan during those hours. This one was impatient, demanding and absolutely relentless. He began in OMEGA’s training center with a crash course in down-and-dirty offensive and defensive maneuvers. Jilly was drenched with sweat and sporting several nasty bruises before she finally managed a takedown.
Hawk didn’t allow her time for so much as a smirk to celebrate. Rolling to his feet, he hustled her into the weapons facility. He’d taught her to shoot, knew she could handle the polymer-based Beretta Sub-Compact she’d carry on this mission. Still, he made her snap in a clip and shred several paper targets before he turned her over to OMEGA’s communications team.
Despite her grungy gray sweats and sweat-flattened hair, Jilly paid close attention while the team drilled her on communications procedures. Her only break came when Mackenzie Blair, Lightning’s wife and the guru of all things electronic for OMEGA and several other government agencies, marched in.
“Well, my sweet, you certainly didn’t waste any time snagging your first field op.”
“What can I say? Duty calls.”
Raking back her limp hair, Jilly grinned at the brunette she considered more of a big sister than an honorary aunt.
“How’s the baby?”
Mac rounded a hand over her prominent belly and made a face. “The little stinker sleeps all day and kicks all night. Want to see what I have for you?”
Both women instantly switched gears. Mac’s high-tech devices had made her a legend with the agencies she supplied. Jilly couldn’t wait to see what supercool, James Bondish gadget she’d come up with this time.
It didn’t look all that high-tech at first. The gold charm was pretty, though. It was in the shape of a Chinese character and embedded in a bezel of what looked like rare blue jade.
“Do you know this character?” Mac asked.
“Fu. It means good luck.” Jilly had to laugh. “Appropriate.”
“I thought so, too. This particular Fu, my sweet, just happens to conceal the world’s smallest and most sophisticated encrypted satellite communications system.”
With her belly nudging the table, Mac laid the charm in the palm of one hand and poked at it with the other.
“If you press on this little squiggle…”
“That squiggle is the character’s radical, or root symbol.”
After four years of Mandarin in college, two more in grad school and a three-year tour of duty in Beijing, Jilly spoke several Chinese dialects with a fluency rarely acquired by “foreign devils.”
Reading and writing were entirely different matters. By various counts, there were somewhere between forty and fifty thousand Chinese characters. Thankfully, each character contained one of only two hundred and fourteen roots. If you could figure out the root, you could count the character’s remaining strokes and—most of the time!—look up the word in a dictionary.
“The roots came down from ancient times,” she told Mac. “Originally they were pictographs representing basic elements like man, woman, fire, water, and so on.”
“If you say so. Press the root…radical…whatever…once to transmit, twice to receive. Go ahead, try a voice transmission.”
Jilly pressed once. “Mary had a little…Whoa!”
She jumped as the nursery rhyme boomed through the Control Center’s speakers.
“You’ll be in silent mode most of the time,” Mac advised, “but you’ll know when someone’s trying to contact you. Put it on, and I’ll give you a demo.”
