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“They claimed they got lost on a hike.”
“Bull crap! This is Sam and Remi Fargo we’re talkin’ about. I’ll tell you what happened: you two screwed up somehow, and the Fargos got suspicious. They’re runnin’ circles around you two. Put a bunch of people on ’em. I want to know where they’re goin’ and what they’re doin’. You got that?”
“You can count on us, Dad,” said Marjorie.
“That’d be a nice change,” grumbled King. “In the meantime, I’m not takin’ any more chances. I’m sendin’ reinforcements.”
King leaned forward and stabbed the speakerphone’s Disconnect button. Standing on the other side of the desk, her hands folded before her, stood Zhilan Hsu.
“You are hard on them, Charles,” she said quietly.
“And you coddle ’em!” King shot back.
“Until this latest incident with the Fargos, they’ve done well for you.”
King frowned, and gave an annoyed shake of his head. “I s’pose. Still, I want you to get out there, make sure this thing don’t go too far off the rails. Somethin’s got the Fargos’ backs up. Take the Gulfstream and get out there. Fix ’em. That Alton character too. He’s useless now.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Get the Fargos to play their part. Failin’ that . . . Nepal’s a big place. Plenty of room for people to disappear.”
11
HYATT REGENCY HOTEL,
KATHMANDU, NEPAL
In the early morning, the phone on Remi’s nightstand was ringing. “Sam, did you do this on purpose? A wake-up call. Do you know what time it is?”
Sam picked up the phone and said, “We’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
“Be where?” Remi demanded.
“As I promised. A Himalayan hot stone massage for you and a deep tissue massage for me.”
“Fargo,” said Remi with wide smile, “you’re a treasure.”
She slid out of bed and dashed to the bathroom as Sam answered a knock on the door. Room service delivered the breakfast he’d ordered the night before: Remi’s favorite, corned beef hash and poached eggs, and, for him, scrambled eggs with salmon.
He’d also ordered coffee and two glasses of pomegranate juice.
While they ate, they turned their attention to the mysterious chest that sat on the couch across from their table. Remi poured a second cup of coffee as Sam dialed up Selma.
“Do you think King had Alton kidnapped?” Selma asked.
“To get us here,” Remi offered, taking a sip of coffee.
Selma chimed in, “Get you there on the pretext of looking for Frank and then . . . what?”
“False flag,” Sam murmured, then explained: “It’s an espionage term. An agent is recruited by an enemy posing as an ally. The agent thinks his mission is one thing, but it’s actually something altogether different.”
“Oh, great,” Remi remarked.
“It’s a house of cards,” Sam agreed. “If that’s what King is up to, his ego wouldn’t let him entertain the idea of the plan derailing.”
“Then you don’t know if you’re actually looking for Lewis King or not. Or whether there was even a sighting of him.”
“Charlie doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s not so much his father Charlie is chasing but perhaps what his father was chasing.”