Chapter 18 Sophie
SOPHIE
Back in the computer lab, the familiar hum of machines wrapped around Sophie like a cocoon as she sat down in her borrowed workstation.
Her belly rumbled with a reminder that she needed food, and she frowned, remembering she’d promised Armita to be home for dinner.
She couldn’t take long on this if she was going to make it home on time; helping the new agent would have to wait.
She cracked her knuckles and dove into researching Thornfield’s security system. Feirn dropped to the floor and did push-ups near the door.
The billionaire’s digital setup was impressive—and it should be, because it was designed by Security Solutions, her own company. Sophie smiled at the sight of the familiar login screen.
“Well, this isn’t even fun,” she murmured.
“But I can be efficient, at least.” She used a universal admin code to open a back door, and moments later, “I’m in,” she announced, triumph sharp in her voice as multiple camera feeds bloomed across her monitors.
“Main house, guest house, pool house, and—hello.”
“What?” Feirn came to her shoulder.
“The storage building. Temperature logs show it’s been accessed three times in the past twenty-four hours.” She enhanced one of the images, pixels sharpening into clarity. “And look at the power usage. It’s spiked. Like someone’s running additional climate control.”
She contacted Waxman and Marcella quickly with the confirmation. A moment later, her screen lit up with Marcella’s response to her urgent text: Surveillance team en route. Good work.
Maybe she had time to help Agent Chen with her storage facility searches after all, but the truth was, she was hungry and tired. She’d been away from home too long. “Not to mention, spending a night in jail,” she muttered.
Sophie leaned back, the chair’s springs groaning. They were close to these perps—she could feel it. But something scratched at her, fingernails on glass.
This felt too easy. Would they really use such an obvious location? She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Feirn asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” She pulled up Yoshimura’s database again, the entries scrolling past. “Or maybe we’re seeing what they want us to see.”
The computer lab’s ventilation system kicked on with a wheeze, stirring papers on a nearby desk. Sophie shivered as cold air hit her. She texted Chen, telling the agent she had to go home; maybe after the children were in bed she could help with the search for other storage facilities.
The woman texted back that she had it in hand and would reach out if she needed any further help.
“Okay, Feirn. We’re out of here,” she said in English.
The young man cocked his head and replied in Thai. “What is going out of where?”
She chuckled, remembering all the years American idioms had been a puzzle. “We’re done for the day and going home.”
“That I can say yes to,” he replied with dignity.
Evening sun painted Honolulu’s glass towers in shades of amber and gold as Sophie got into her SUV. Feirn folded himself into the passenger seat beside her with the fluid grace of someone used to cramped spaces, his eyes scanning the shadows between parked vehicles.
“Seat belt,” Sophie reminded him in Thai, hearing a maternal note in her voice.
The click of the buckle was reassuring in its normalcy as she navigated her SUV through the FBI building’s parking garage.
The concrete walls amplified every sound—the squeal of tires on the smooth surface, the echo of a distant car alarm.
They emerged into the beginning of Honolulu’s heavy commute traffic, a river of red taillights stretching toward the Pali Highway. Sophie merged, the familiar route to Kailua unfolding before them.
“This traffic,” Feirn said, his tone carrying a note of wonder. “Bangkok is worse, but here the cars actually stay in their lanes.”
Sophie smiled. “Give it time. You haven’t seen what happens when there’s a surf competition on the North Shore.”
They crawled past the gleaming shops of Ward Village, where tourists clutched shopping bags and locals hurried home from work. The mountains rose to their right, their peaks shrouded in clouds that promised evening rain. Sophie’s stomach growled again, loud enough that Feirn raised an eyebrow.
“When did you last eat?” he asked.
“There hasn’t been time today.” She changed lanes to avoid a city bus belching exhaust. “I texted Armita we’re on our way. She’s making her famous pad krapow tonight. You’ll like it. She does it spicy for us adults.”
Feirn’s expression softened. “I look forward to eating food from home.”
They entered the Pali Highway, the road beginning its winding climb through the Ko‘olau Mountains.
The temperature dropped a few degrees as they gained elevation, and Sophie cracked her window to let in the rain-scented air.
Bamboo and wild ginger crowded the roadside, their leaves rustling with the wind, flowers a bright contrast.
“This reminds me of the mountains outside Chiang Mai,” Feirn said, his face turned toward the jungle-covered slopes. “But the trees are different. Everything here is so . . .” he searched for the word, “. . . soft. Even the mountains seem gentle.”
“Don’t let them fool you. The trails around here have claimed plenty of hikers who underestimated them.” Sophie downshifted as they approached the first of the highway’s notorious curves. “Connor and I used to—”
Her phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth system, the display showing Connor’s name as if she’d conjured up the man once known as the Ghost. Her heart did a familiar skip-and-ache.
“Speak of the devil,” she muttered in English, then answered in Thai. “Connor. You’re on speaker with me and Feirn.”
“Good.” Connor’s familiar baritone filled the car. She heard strain beneath his calm. “I have new information.”
Sophie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as they entered the first tunnel, the sudden darkness making her headlights flare to life. The tunnel’s orange sodium lights turned everything sepia toned as an old photograph.
“Sunan will challenge me in seven days,” Connor said, his words echoing slightly. “On the anniversary of my ascension as Master.”
They burst from the tunnel into filtered green light, the road now cutting through dense rainforest. Sophie had to force herself to focus on driving. “Seven days? Connor, that’s soon.”
“I know. Not much time to prepare. Meanwhile I’ve found out what they want the Hawaiian artifacts for—they’re for something called the Ceremony of Claiming.”
“Ceremony of Claiming?” Feirn said. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Neither had I,” Connor said. “The Healer says it’s one of the old ways that were discontinued under the last three Masters.
The worst part is that the artifacts will be burned to release their mana—their spiritual power—during Sunan’s challenge.
It’s supposed to make the one who orchestrated the ceremony stronger. ”
Sophie swerved to avoid a tourist vehicle that had stopped to photograph the view and hadn’t pulled far enough out of the road. Her horn blast scattered a flock of mynah birds. “Burned? We can’t let that happen! Those artifacts are priceless. They’re irreplaceable pieces of Hawaiian history!”
“I know what they are.” Connor’s voice carried an edge. “That’s why the Brotherhood of Ancient Ways chose them. They want every advantage. At least, that’s what they believe the relics will give them.”
“Is that the group’s official name? Brotherhood of Ancient Ways?” Sophie flexed her hands on the wheel.
“Yes. So I’ve heard from a reliable source.”
They passed the Pali Lookout where King Kamehameha had once driven his enemies over the cliffs. Sophie spotted the ocean in the distance, Kailua Bay a perfect crescent of turquoise against the green shore. The Technicolor beauty of it mocked the darkness of their conversation.
“Where would they perform this ceremony?” she asked. “Here in Hawaii?”
“As close to our fortress here in Thailand as they can get, to amplify the effect of the ceremony. The Healer thinks they’ll try to create a sacred space near us.
I have contacts in the Yām Kh?mk?n watching for any Brotherhood movement in our area,” Connor said, referring to his network of informants in Thailand’s martial arts underworld.
“But nothing so far. Sophie, those artifacts can’t leave your country. If they make it to Thailand—”
“They’ll be destroyed.” She finished his thought, anger tightening her chest. “Priceless antiquities of Hawaiian culture burned for some twisted fanatic’s magic ritual. What a waste.”
Feirn shifted in his seat. “There is power in belief,” he said.
“Yes, and it’s called the placebo effect,” Sophie snapped. “Perhaps that’s why Dr. Yoshimura hasn’t left the island yet. She is safeguarding the items for transport.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Connor agreed. “The Brotherhood would want everything in place before moving the pieces.”
“But since they’re planning to burn them, they might not care about their storage and preservation like we assumed they did,” Sophie said. “I have to get back to the FBI with this.”
They descended toward Kailua, the town spreading before them like a postcard with red-tiled roofs among swaying palms, the ocean beyond shifting from turquoise to deep blue as clouds raced across the sun.
Sophie took the Kailua Road exit, muscle memory guiding her through the familiar turns.
“I tracked unusual activity at a collector’s storage facility.
William Thornfield’s estate in Wailea, Maui. The FBI is checking it now.”
“Good. But Sophie. . .” Connor’s voice dropped. “The Brotherhood has been planning this for years. They’ll have contingencies. Don’t assume anything.”
“I know.” She turned onto her street, the familiar sight of her neighbor’s rainbow shower tree making her throat tighten. “We’re almost home. I need to see my children.”
“But I will not see them again,” Connor said, his voice flat and unemotional.
“Don’t say that.” She pulled into the driveway. The facial recognition software on the plinth by the gate read her face, and the heavy metal portal rolled slowly open. “You’ll win against this challenger. You always do.”
“Even so. My life is here now. My death, too. Goodbye, Sophie.” The call ended with a soft click.
Sophie frowned. What did he mean by that? Apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d made a permanent choice about their relationship.
She pulled through the turnaround past the guesthouse where the security team operated, and parked in front of her home’s entrance.
“Seven days,” Feirn said quietly. “That’s not much time.”
“No.” Sophie grabbed her backpack, exhaustion and hunger hitting her gut like a physical punch. “It’s not.”
They entered the house to a chaos of children, dogs, and cooking smells. Sean launched himself at her knees while Momi chattered about her day at school, something about a gecko in the classroom and how she’d been the only one brave enough to catch it.
Normal life flowed around Sophie like water around a stone. But as Sophie hugged her children, breathing in their scent, tousling heads, she couldn’t stop thinking about those missing artifacts.
Fanatics were preparing to destroy pieces of Hawaiian history for imagined power.
They had a week to stop them. Less, if you considered that the Brotherhood would want to be set up in Thailand for their ceremony before the anniversary that marked Sunan’s challenge to Connor.
She kissed Momi’s forehead and made herself smile. “Who wants to help Mama set the table?”
It was time to be a mother. Anything else could wait until after bedtime.