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we use the military, and we wait until the last second.” Tyler glanced around at his crew. “Other ideas?”

Eddie brought up the holographic image of the towers. “We can expect comm jamming. The lion said no phones or computers. He can enforce that rule with jammers on the upper floors without blocking signals in the city below.”

“Good catch. Solution?”

“I’ll put Franklin on it. Right now. ”

Talia watched him open a messaging app on his tablet, then looked to Tyler and shrugged. “We also know Boyd himself, right? He’s rich. He’s a sociopath.”

“Narcissist, actually,” Val said, tapping her chin. “There’s a difference. But you’re on to something. Knowing the identity of the White Lion tells us volumes. We have Livingston Boyd, the young energy stock and real estate mogul, and the White Lion, the bloodthirsty crime boss.”

“Both sides of his personality,” Pell said. “Put them together, and we have a complete picture of the man—a sort of ‘What’s a diabolical criminal mastermind when he’s at home’ profile.”

Val rocked forward to rest her elbows on the oak table, as if her mind had suddenly gone to work and her hands were looking to follow. “Eddie, show me the layout of the western tower.”

“I don’t have much.” The skyscrapers reappeared in the hologram, and a blueprint overlaid the twisting structure. Most of the floors were blank. “One of Boyd’s shell companies handled the development. Whatever he’s done with the upper floors is a big secret.”

Val walked to the display and used her hands to expand the blueprint, examining a large, open chamber near the tower’s top. “What about this? The rest of the building is one-way glass, but these are clear. The video shows greenery inside.”

Eddie shrugged. “The blueprint calls it an atrium—actually the Atrium.”

Tyler pushed himself off the wall, watching her. “What’ve you got, Val?”

“The difference between a narcissist and a sociopath is the need for validation. Both manipulate others, and both presume they are better and smarter, but a narcissist needs to be told he’s better.” She spun the chamber within the hologram. “A jungle environment, high above the world. Boyd built this to show off, like a throne room. If we pique his interest during the Frenzy, he’ll bring us here. This is where we’ll get him.”

CHAPTER

SIXTY-

ONE

AERION AS2

ANDAMAN SEA

TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND FEET

DESCENDING INTO BANGKOK

THREEANDAHALFHOURS after Eddie played the White Lion’s message, Talia dropped into the AS2’s copilot seat, careful not to disturb the side-mounted flight control stick inches from her armrest. “Finn called. He had news.”

Tyler worked a touchscreen panel on the console between them. “Good or bad?” he asked without looking up.

“Good. I think. His canvassing northwest of Bangkok paid off. A street-market water dealer remembered seeing the trucks. She was adamant they were the ones he and Mac are looking for.”

“So we know the trucks passed through her village.”

“Not exactly.” Talia did her best to rein in the hope in her voice. “The shop owner spotted the trucks on her way into town. Parked. She saw them at an isolated facility a good distance from the road.”

“And the trucks are still there?”

She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean the kids aren’t. I told Finn to sit tight. He and Mac will keep watch until we arrive.”

A radio call interrupted them. Tyler turned a dial on the dash to set a target altitude of fifteen thousand and pressed the dial in to signal the autopilot. The AS2 pitched down a few degrees. He glanced at her sideways. “You committed the team without consulting me?”

“Rescuing those kids is the only thing that matters.”

“Rescuing those kids is important, and right, but it is not the only thing, Talia. Our best shot at saving them is to go after the source. Boyd. And we’re short on time.”

“What if we’re wrong. What if the kidnapping has nothing to do with the Frenzy, and this is our last shot before those children are dispersed into the trafficking networks?”

Tyler sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he pointed to a digital map display on the center console. “The place we call Bangkok is really a dense urban metropolis of interlocking cities. It is broad. It is packed. And traffic is a nightmare like you’ve never experienced. If we land downtown, we’ll never reach Finn.”

She couldn’t read the subtext in his statement. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we need to find another airfield. We’ll play it your way. We’ll rendezvous with Finn and check out the site.”

TYLER LANDED THE AS2 AT A THAI MILITARY FIELD. When the controller challenged him on his request for an approach, Tyler asked to speak to General Ta Maew. No general came on the radio. The controller immediately cleared him to land. He also offered up a military jeep.

The rendezvous point was an orchard filled with giant spiny fruit. Talia poked at a trio of them. “What do you call these, Ewan?”

“They are Mong Thong, meaning golden pillow.”

She pressed the tips of the spines. They were hard enough to leave impressions in her fingertips. “Not my kind of pillow.”

“Look more like medieval weapons,” Mac said. “We could stick ’em on pikes and swing ’em at the kidnappers.”

“Or we could use guns.” Tyler lifted a pair of machine guns from the back of the jeep. He had brought a case of them from the jet.

“P3Q?” Talia asked as he tossed her one.

“What else?”

Tyler brought out extra magazines for Mac and Finn as well, and the team set to work. Grifter, chemist, wheelman, burglar, and spy—everyone but Eddie the hacker—inspected and readied their weapons like a professional hit team.

Po laughed and said something in Thai. Ewan laughed as well.

“What are you two on about?” Finn asked, stuffing his spare mag into his khakis.

“Po has invented a new word. He says you are not commandos or thieves. You are commando-thieves.”

When no one laughed, he frowned and bobbled his head. “Sounds funnier in Thai.”

A scan of the compound through a high-powered scope revealed no activity.

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