Your Next Breath

“And I think you’re crazy. I did without him for nine years. I’m having enough trouble just making a friend of him, much less having a mother-son relationship.” She made a face. “You manage to hypnotize him. You hypnotize us all, Hu Chang.”

 

 

He bowed slightly. “Not you, Catherine.”

 

He had in the beginning, when she was only fourteen, before she had been recruited by the CIA. It was a time when they had been fighting street gangs and crooked magistrates and all the wickedness of Hong Kong. Even his appearance was mesmerizing. He was wearing his usual black trousers and tunic that were cut with faultless elegance. His dark hair was shoulder length and shone from the sunlight streaming into the windows of the foyer. His cheekbones were high, his eyes night-dark, and he always appeared totally ageless. He had told her he was Russian and Mongolian but looked neither, except for those dark eyes. He was a little above middle height but appeared taller, and she had seen him perform amazing feats of strength and skill. But it was his mind that had kept her intrigued all these years. He had traveled the world and studied dozens of philosophies and accepted parts of them. He had his own moral code, but he would not answer to anyone for anything he did. And she never tried to judge him. He had saved her life. She had saved his. When you had a friend as remarkable as Hu Chang, you only accepted and were grateful.

 

Except when he tried to steal your son from you. “Keep your hands off Luke, dammit.”

 

“I said soon, not immediately.” He gestured to the library. “Come and sit down. I’ve found that Luke is not above eavesdropping. I’ve lectured him on the lack of honor involved, but he blames it on being raised by criminals and raiders. He said that eavesdropping could sometimes prevent punishment.”

 

“And that could be true. Rakovac put a gun in Luke’s hand when he was only a small child.”

 

“And Luke could be clinging to that excuse because of an insatiable curiosity and the desire to control his own life.” He shut the door. “Either way, it’s understandable. We must just cope with it. I do not want Luke involved at the moment.”

 

“Why not?” She tensed. “And why didn’t you come to the front door, Hu Chang?”

 

“I wanted to make sure that you and Luke were safe. Sam O’Neill is ex-CIA and usually more than adequate as a guard. I just didn’t want him to get too complacent. I regard you as a treasure, and treasures must be kept polished and away from all harm.”

 

“Bullshit. Why did you put Sam on the spot? Sam’s not complacent. I wouldn’t have hired him as Luke’s tutor if I couldn’t trust him.”

 

“But I must trust him, too,” Hu Chang said quietly. “I thought I made that clear. I have both an emotional and scientific investment in Luke. And an overpowering emotional investment in you, Catherine.” He reached in his pocket and drew out his phone. “And I do not like what has been going on for the past week. I’ve been trying to keep it from you until I could find a solution. But the problem is escalating, and it troubles me.” He dialed up his photos. “And it will do more than trouble you.” He added quietly, “Sorrow, Catherine.”

 

She took the phone. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve not got any idea what—” She broke off as she looked down at the photo. “Olena?” she whispered. Blood. So much blood.

 

Shock. She couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. That look of frozen horror was unmistakable. Nightmare. This was a nightmare.

 

“Dead? She’s dead?”

 

“Throat cut. No sign of robbery. You can see your name written in blood on the floor beside her.”

 

She swallowed. None of it made sense. The only thing clear was that Olena had been murdered. “Was she trying to tell me something?”

 

“No. I believe her murderer was the one telling you something while making it as difficult as possible for you.”

 

“Olena.” She rubbed her temple. “I can’t quite take it in, Hu Chang. I thought she’d be happy now. She didn’t deserve this. All her life was pure hell until these last years. From the time she was a teenager she was serving tricks on the boat docks in Hong Kong. She started on drugs just to keep from cutting her wrists. But she was good to my mother, she was good to me. She’d share food with us. And she kept the men away from me until I was old enough to take care of myself.”

 

“I know, you told me.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?” She shook her head to try to clear it. “I thought she’d be safe in that little village. After I went to work for Venable, I thought I’d cut the ties to that old life. But there was still Olena, and I didn’t want to leave her in that hell.”

 

“And you didn’t,” Hu Chang said gently. “We found a place for her, you got her off the drugs and gave her a chance.”

 

“And she still died with a cut throat,” Catherine said bitterly. “Just the way it might have happened on the docks in Hong Kong.”

 

“But she had those years you gave her, Catherine. And Ivan said they were happy years.”

 

“She should have had many more years. She wasn’t much more than fifty.” She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Who did this, Hu Chang? Why? How can we get him?”

 

“Three good questions. I have no answers.” He took the phone and dialed the photos down. “Not for Olena. Not for Jantzen.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Jantzen?” Shock on top of shock.

 

“He is also dead. I did not take these photos I’m going to show you. Venable sent them to me because you were involved, and he thought you should be advised. I take it you worked with Jantzen?”

 

She nodded. “We worked several drug busts together in Caracas and Quito. He’s a good guy. I liked him.”

 

“A good friend.” He nodded. “As good a friend as a loner like you permits herself.” He handed her the phone again. “With the exception of my humble self.”