“Why not?”
“I was bullied a lot.” She took a deep breath and stood. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“We don’t have to.” I looked at the time. “Should we head back?”
Flynn didn’t answer, but she did walk toward the trail.
Given we were going downhill rather than up, it took us half the time to get back to the inn and resort where the restaurant was. We were still an hour early, so I went inside to see if we could bump up our reservation. From the hostess’ stand where I waited, I could see the guy we’d passed in the woods working behind the bar. I hoped his being here wouldn’t ruin Flynn’s evening, given she’d had such a strong reaction to seeing him.
“I have a table out on the veranda if you’d like. Are there four of you dining with us this evening?” the woman asked, looking out to where Ink waited with Flynn.
“Just two.”
As I’d anticipated, Flynn stiffened when she saw the bartender. I’d intentionally walked between her and the bar, not that it helped.
We were the only diners in the place this early, so when the man said, “Hey, heifer,” under his breath, I could hear him loud and clear. Based on her reaction, she did too.
“What did you just say?” I asked the man.
“Paxon, don’t,” Flynn whispered.
I might’ve done as she asked if the guy hadn’t come around the bar. “I recognize you from the news. You’re the guy they arrested for spying for China.”
Ink moved closer while Flynn grabbed my arm and pulled me in the opposite direction and out of the restaurant.
“Figures the cow would hang out with the likes of you.”
When Flynn flinched as though someone had physically assaulted her, I spun around on the guy and drew my hand back to punch him, but Ink got between us.
“Out,” he said to me under his breath. “I’ll handle this. You get Flynn to the SUV.”
I did as he asked, knowing that if I ignored him, I’d only be making his job more difficult.
Flynn put her face in her hands once we were in the vehicle. “I’m so sorry.”
I pulled her hands away. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I ruined dinner.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. The asshole guy behind the bar did.”
“Can we please just go?”
I saw Ink on his way to the car. I’d ask him later what happened with the bartender. Flynn already felt bad enough.
I suggested we eat somewhere in Crested Butte when we came down the mountain and drove through town, but Flynn said she’d lost her appetite and just wanted to go back to the ranch.
I wished there was something I could do to make her feel better, but the harder I tried, the more she retreated into herself.
When a few days passed without my being able to reach her, I asked Buck about it when he came over to my cabin about something else.
“I don’t know much about Flynn’s high school friends since I’m so much older than her. Holt might, though.”
“Why’d you stop over?”
“Right. Burns Butler is next door and wants to brief you and Cope on something.”
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what the man told us.
28
Flynn
It was all I could do to come out of my bedroom, let alone get dressed and go to the dining hall. What I really wanted to do was disappear into a black hole, never to be seen again.
I’d never been so humiliated in all my life, even when it happened every day at school.
Paxon heard that asshole Trent call me a heifer. Every time I thought about it, I was sick to my stomach. Trent had made it even worse by saying he recognized Paxon from the news.
Why had I suggested we go to Redstone? That was an easy answer; because I’d thought there’d be less chance of running into someone I knew. Of course, the opposite would happen. Not only had we seen someone I knew, but that person had to open his mouth and let all the ugly shit I’d grown up with spew out of it.
Paxon had tried to contact me several times, but I ignored him. I didn’t want to talk about that night. I wanted to forget it had ever happened. Talking to him, seeing him, would only remind me of my utter embarrassment.
29
Irish
When Cope and I went inside, Stella, Buck, and Burns were sitting in the living room. Decker was patched in via video-conferencing on one of their computers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said to Burns, reaching out to shake his hand.
“It’s an honor, Mr. Warrick,” he responded. “I’ve learned of your bravery from our friend Mr. Ashford. Yours as well,” he said to Cope.
“Where is Ali?” Decker asked him.
“Lying down. She isn’t feeling well.” Both he and I looked back at Burns when he cleared his throat.
“I believe what you’re about to read may hold some of the information you’ve been seeking.”
Buck handed Cope an envelope that he passed to me. “You go first,” he said. Before opening it, I looked up at Stella, who appeared hopeful.
The bulk of the report was about Kim Ha-joon, the South Korean secretary-general of Interpol, who wasn’t South Korean at all. The name he was currently using was one of several known aliases. His given name was Chen Wang-Su, and his father had worked in Chinese intelligence for many years. He was a known associate of Ming Shen-Lin—a Hong Kong citizen infamous in intelligence circles and rumored to be a double agent if not triple.
It came as no surprise to me that China would maneuver one of their spies into Interpol, only that it took us so long to figure it out.
I felt a sense of relief at knowing that China was involved. This was the proof. I wasn’t crazy or paranoid or grasping at straws, not that anyone had ever suggested those things. I’d wondered it myself.
“As Buck said earlier, the current Interpol executive team knows exactly who he is,” said Decker.
Burns leaned forward. “This serves as nothing more than a warning.” He looked directly at me. “You, better than anyone in this room, understand the risks involved in continuing to pursue what we all now know to be Operation Argead. The global reach of this organization is infinite, and they are backed by the most powerful nations in the world, each with their own agenda.”
“Understood, sir.”
When Burns stood, I did too. “Come with me.”
I followed him out to the porch, where Ink waited in one of the SUVs.
“When this is over, I’d like to invite you to visit me at Butler Ranch.”
“I’d be honored, sir.”
“I’ll put you under advisement that my wife, Sorcha, will want every last detail about your mission, but she will reward you with some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, not to mention my son and daughter-in-law’s wine.”
Hearing those words from Burns, a man I’d admired from a distance the entirety of my career, buoyed me as I went inside after thanking him.
As I closed the door behind me, I saw Decker’s computer screen go dark. There was too much tension in the room for it to have been him ending the video chat.