CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER
NASH WAS TAKEN TO A large study that held a gas fireplace. This struck him as odd, since even in its coldest months Hong Kong never got much below fifty degrees Fahrenheit.
But perhaps because of her injuries Steers feels the chill more? Ironic if fire could make you cold.
There was a large desk with a closed laptop on it. The shelves held many books and some small sculptures and photos. As he waited for Steers he wandered the room looking at the books and pictures.
Reading-wise she seemed to favor business books, but there were also a number of spy classics from John LeCarré and Eric Ambler.
He pulled one book off the shelf and glanced through the pages. It was full of handwritten marginalia and underlined sections. It was The Art of War, attributed to the fifth-century BC Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu.
Nash read through the notes carefully before he put the book back on the shelf and turned his attention to the array of photos displayed on a waist-high counter of one of the built-in shelving units.
In one photo were seven people: a far younger and regal-looking Masuyo; her presumably English husband, Joseph Steers, who was short and beefy with reddish hair; and in between them, five children, also presumably theirs.
The oldest was a boy who looked to be around fourteen.
There were two more sons, and a daughter who looked to be about eight.
The youngest, who was standing next to her mother, was Victoria Steers, and she looked to be around five.
She was already tall for her age while the other children seemed to have taken after their diminutive father.
Masuyo was staring directly into the camera with an imperious expression, while Victoria shyly glanced off to the side, with her ankles crossed, and fingers hovering near her mouth.
Victoria was dressed in a frilly white dress with black ballet flats.
Her hair was done in pigtails, and though she wasn’t looking directly at the camera, the one eye visible seemed full of mischief.
She actually looked quite cute and. . .normal, thought Nash grudgingly.
So what the hell happened to transform the woman into a monster?
As he looked at her four siblings he answered his own question.
The competition happened, instigated by her mother, and she killed her three brothers and one sister and took control. And the cute little shy girl was gone forever.
Nash was surprised, considering their fates, that Steers had even kept photos of her siblings.
“I did not mean to keep you waiting.”
Nash turned to see Steers standing in the doorway. She seemed to move with the silence of a ghost.
“That’s okay. It’s an interesting and enlightening room.”
Steers glanced sharply at the photo he’d been looking at and a frown creased her face. Steers walked behind the desk and sat, motioning for him to sit across from her.
“It is quiet in here and I can think,” she said tersely. “Everyone needs such a space, even if it exists only in their minds.”
“I see you’re a reader.”
“I value books, yes. They broaden horizons and they also allow one to learn from the mistakes of others.”
He nodded and sat back. And now to business, he thought.
“I presume that Mr. Temple spoke with you?” she said.
“He did.”
“Then you are aware of how things lie?”
“I’m aware, but that’s not the same as understanding.”
She let her gaze slowly roll over him; Nash found her penetrating look to be disquieting.
“My mother told me of your bravery and skill in rescuing her.” She paused and glanced down at her hands. “She seemed quite taken with you, in fact.”
“I did my job. I’m glad she was unharmed, and I’m happy that the two of you have been reunited. And I would be dead except for Thura. He saved my life over there.”
“She wants you, and Thura, to be her personal bodyguards. And I agree.”
“I’m sure your current protection detail is more than adequate.”
“That is irrelevant,” she said brusquely. “My mother desires the two of you, so that is how it must be.”
“And I have no choice in the matter?”
Her lips formed a firm line. “You either work for me in protecting my mother, or you do not go on existing. The same for your comrade.”
“And yet Rhett Temple gets to go home?”
“But he still works for me.”
“How long will this arrangement be for?”
“At the very least it will be for the lifetime of my mother, and though she is old, she is remarkably resilient.”
“So years,” said Nash dully. “And we stay here then? As prisoners?”
“You will be amply paid. Amply paid,” she repeated, her imperial manner dissolving somewhat and her gaze softening. “Your every need will be fulfilled. That includes women, when you want and however many you want, day or night. Quite beautiful women who know how to please men.”
“That’s quite a strange offer for a job interview,” noted Nash.
“You are a man,” she replied simply. “Men need these things. I’m sure your friend Thura will not complain. He looked quite robust in that regard.” She paused. “As do you.”
This comment made Nash look away. He was inwardly trembling with rage.
On the one hand he had achieved what he desired: a way to stay next to Steers and company in the hopes of bringing her to justice or, as a last resort, killing the woman.
But the manner in which he had gained this access, by becoming her pawn and prisoner, angered him to his absolute emotional and mental limits.
He composed himself, conscious that she was watching him closely, and said, “I will let you know when and if I require such. . .services. I will tell Thura as well.”
“You will be paid two million American dollars per year. Thura will be paid half of that. Accounts will be set up and the monies deposited on a biweekly basis. You will have full access to the funds. And you will live here for free.”
His eyes widened. “That is an extraordinarily generous compensation package.”
“You saved my mother. I am feeling generous.”
“Do I get a telephone as one of the perks?”
“You will be provided one, yes. For your job.”
Right, one that will have surveillance software embedded in it, so you’ll know everyone I call, email, or text, every site I access, every keystroke I make.
“You will also be fitted for new clothes, shoes, accessories, and whatever else you may need. The same for Thura. Your meals will be prepared for you, and your apartments cleaned by my staff. There is also a gymnasium on the basement level. My protection detail trains there. You are welcome to use it.” She ran her gaze over his physique.
“In your profession, I know that you need to keep fit.”
“I’ll need my weapons returned. They took them when we arrived back.”
“Of course. You shall have them.”
The two stared at one another. All Nash could visualize was raising a gun, aiming at her forehead, and pulling the trigger.
With that thought in mind he asked, “Is there a gun range where I can maintain my shooting skills?”
“Yes. Now, is there anything else?”
“I suppose not.”
“I am most happy to welcome you to our family, Mr. Hope. I will be in touch soon with further and more precise details regarding your protection of my mother.”
“And how is she doing after her long ordeal?”
Nash saw just a flicker of the eyelids that seemed to represent a brief short-circuit in the woman’s synapses.
“You will find that my mother, above all other things, is indomitable. She can survive anything. And after doing so, she then thrives.”
She waved her hand at the door in a gesture of curt dismissal.
As Nash rose to leave he was wondering if the daughter wished her mother was a bit less indomitable and far less thriving.