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“I think it’s a police station.” I carved out a piece of poke, sliding it onto my spoon. “I’ve observed several uniformed officers going in and out.”

“I thought we already saw the new police station back toward the airport,” she said. “How many police stations do they need to keep the peace in paradise?”

“That’s not a Cook Islands police station,” I said. “It’s a Chinese one. Their flag is flying out front.”

“A Chinese police station?” She stared in puzzlement at the flag. “I thought the Cook Islands was self-governing and in some association with New Zealand.”

“They are.”

“So, why is there a Chinese police station here? What jurisdiction would they have?”

“All really great questions.” I sat back, sipping my coffee and eyeing the building. “If I had to guess, I’d presume it was built as an initial gesture of Chinese goodwill. Some kind of international collaboration to bolster the islands’ law enforcement capabilities or something like that. It probably also involved the Chinese providing equipment, training, and weapons the Cook Islands couldn’t afford to purchase on their own. A totally friendly gesture from a friendly nearby country.”

Lexi lowered her shades to look at me. “China? Except we know better.”

“We know better,” I agreed. “I suspect the Chinese have an entirely different agenda.”

“Which is?”

“It’s no secret Chinese influence in Southeast Asia has been growing steadily over the past decade. Beijing has invested heavily in infrastructure in the region, which, on the surface, seems beneficial. But there’s a darker side to it.” I set my cup down, thinking. “I’d bet another plateful of that delicious dessert that station operates with a special degree of autonomy.”

“What kind of autonomy?”

“Autonomy similar to an embassy in a foreign country, including control over any Chinese citizens in the area.”

Lexi paused, the fork inches from her mouth. “That’s crazy. Why would the local government allow that?”

“Hard to say. There could be many reasons. It wouldn’t be a stretch for the Chinese to argue it’s for the safety and security of any Chinese nationals on the islands. However, it might also be to oversee Chinese businessmen trying to park their assets offshore and away from Mother China’s reach. Either way, an agreement like that severely undermines the Cook Islands’ sovereignty. If my guess is correct, that would mean the Chinese police station operates independently of local law enforcement agencies.”

Lexi let her fork clatter to the plate. “I don’t understand how that would work. How would local police fit into that arrangement?”

I shrugged. “My best guess, a quid pro quo of some kind that bolsters their influence while making the local police force dependent on them.”

“Wow. That’s sincerely shocking.”

“I agree. The newly elected prime minister is in a tough spot. From what I’ve read, she’s lukewarm about the Chinese presence. Educated in the UK and US, she understands the Western perspective and the risk of foreign influence. But she’s also aware of the immediate benefits and the pressure from certain factions within her government that are quite supportive of the Chinese.”

“You’ve been reading up on the Cook Islands?” She looked at me suspiciously.

I gave her an easy smile. “Do you know me or not? Any place I go with you, I’m reading, thinking, and planning ahead. Just in case.”

She thought about it, conceded my point. “Fair enough, since I did my own research after we agreed to come here. But even given this, you still believe this is one of the safest and most remote and beautiful spots in the world?”

“I do, and that’s with all the intelligence at my fingertips. Let the Chinese have their police station. We’re on a remote, sleepy little island with exquisite lagoons, volcanic peaks, and dazzling palm-fringed beaches where nothing ever happens. Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet.”

She reached across the table and took my hand. “Just two geeky castaways on their honeymoon.”

A smile touched my lips. “Exactly.”

“It’s perfect, Slash. I appreciate you doing all the legwork to find this hidden gem. The trip has been flawless so far, other than a runaway pig. So, what’s on the honeymoon agenda for tomorrow? A trek to the volcanic mountain top? Snorkeling? A dip in the fancy resort pool?”

I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers together. “Jet-skiing.”

“Jet-skiing? Why am I not surprised? Of course you’d choose a high-speed activity.”

I laughed. “Not just jet-skiing. We’ll ski out to an even more remote island, where we’ll drink wine, walk the beach, and experience the wonders of a crystal-clear lagoon in utter and complete privacy. We can even go au naturel if you so desire, though I can’t guarantee some kayakers won’t crash our party.”

She snorted. “Au naturel with my pasty white skin? I think I’ll pass. However, if we pack lots of suntan lotion, a life vest, my beach hat, and beach shoes, I’m in. And you’re driving the Jet Ski.”