Page 19 of Mastermind

“Because I was irrelevant. Whoever told them didn’t do it because they wanted me dead. It was something to trade for. This country shares a rather large border with China. While we may not officially approve of China’s disregard for human rights, we still need favors from them. A little bit of innocuous intel can go a long way.”

“And you think that’s how they found you?” she asks.

“It’s the most likely scenario. At present, I’m more concerned with why you found me and how you managed to get me out of there. It seemed a little . . . easy.”

“It was easy. As for the reason, one explains the other. That document I showed them? The one that released you into my custody? It was real. While official relations are tense, Myanmar and the United States have an agreement when it comes to handling terrorists. Basically, they let us handle them. That’s why they let me take you.”

“Because I’m on a US terrorist list?”

“Because you’re on a list. They told Burmese officials they wanted to talk to you.”

I scoff. “That’s amusing. So, what am I, Al Qaeda’s number two?”

“No, Dr. Cray. I’m here to decide if you’re Michael Heywood’s number two.”

“Never met the guy, although I’m sure he’s an asshole. Now what? Do you arrest me anyway and take me to the embassy through a back route?”

“No, Dr. Cray. Th—”

“Theo.”

“No, Theo. There’s another part to this. Someone wanted you dead. That’s why they told the Myanmar military your location. The papers I used to take custody of you? I stole them from the men who are now arriving at the detention center. They’re about to find out that a woman already picked you up. The phone I planted on the bus will lead them away from here, but it won’t last for long.” She puts her hand to her ear again. “Damn.”

“What?”

“They split into two teams. One’s heading this way.” She jumps to her feet and shoves all the medicine into a backpack. “Put on your shoes.”

I follow her instructions and lace them up over my blistered feet. “Who’s coming? Who’s after me?”

“They’re called IDR. It’s a special operations group used to retrieve people and information in crisis situations,” she replies as she goes to the door.

“American?”

She nods.

“Then maybe I should talk to them. Why run?”

“Because whoever tried to have you killed in the jungle sent them here. They don’t realize it, but someone is pulling their strings. And his goal is to make sure you’re dead.”

I follow her out the door and down a back hallway leading to the opposite end of the building from where we entered. Overhead there’s the whoosh sound of a helicopter. I glance back past my shoulder and see a black chopper hovering near where we parked the car. The sound of police sirens rises in the distance.

“Who wants me dead?” I ask as we run down the back alley, ducking under clothes hanging from lines.

“If you’re not working with Heywood, then I’m pretty sure he wants you killed.”

The heavy footsteps of military-grade boots stomp down the stairwell we just left. Ahead of us I can see the lights of a police car and hear the wail of a siren. Something tells me that the local police and this IDR agency aren’t working together.

Blackwood motions for me to put my back to the alley wall. I do as she says and keep silent. If there’s a later, I’ll ask her why a man I never met would go to all this effort to make sure I was dead.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MAN DOWN

Blackwood sidles along the alley wall to the corner, peering past the hanging sheets and rugs, trying to see where the police officers are. I stay back and watch a child look out from a window across the alley, waving to me. I’m about to wave back when I feel a tight grip around my wrist, and Blackwood pulls me closer as she steps into the small area beyond the laundry that’s shielding us.

I hear an angry voice yell at us in Burmese, and Jessica pushes me back into the alley. “Down,” she says, shoving me to the red clay earth.

In my weakened state, it doesn’t take much force for her to do so.