Page 25 of The Team (The Milvus Files #3)

THIRTEEN

Rhett and Jay were not the first to arrive at Northolt. Which Rhett hated, but they had little other choice.

They raced over to the waiting private jet and Rhett threw their go-bag onto a seat. “Sorry,” he said. “Had to make a stop on the way.”

“Did we interrupt something more important?” Sid joked.

“The only clothes we had were the ones we’d worn for three days. Be grateful we don’t smell like shit.”

“No clothes?” Echo asked. “You didn’t go home?”

Jay shook his head. “No. We were tailed last night, so we ditched the car and stayed at a hotel.”

Sid’s smile died. “What the fuck?”

Rhett nodded. “Some idiot newbie from HQ. Stuck out like a sore thumb and almost shat himself when we had a little chat.”

“We think he may have been a decoy or someone to waste our time for a bit, so we opted out of going back to the flat,” Jay added.

The plane’s engines started just as King came onto the plane, limping heavily on his cane, with a frown and laser-focused eyes. Yin and Chen ran on after him, bags in their hands, panting.

“Did you guys run the whole way?” Sid asked.

But then Rhett got a better look at Yin. “Christ. I thought I looked like shit. Did you sleep at all in the last twelve hours?”

Yin gave a shake of his head. “Sorry we are late.”

Remembering what Yunho had said, it was very likely Yin hadn’t slept a wink. Rhett clapped him on the shoulder, and Chen gave Rhett an apologetic grimace that was maybe supposed to be a smile.

“Well, I don’t know who organised this ride,” Azrael said, looking around the very nice cabin. “But I could get used to this.”

And it was nice. A private jet, with space before the cockpit for a screen and a table.

Before the door was closed, the last person to board came through the door.

Zihao.

Rhett shot King a what-the-fuck glare, and from what he could tell, Yin and Chen were surprised to see their handler.

“I’ll explain when we’re in the air,” King said pointedly to Rhett and, by association, everyone else. Then King gestured to the seat by him. “Director Zihao, please make yourself comfortable.”

The seatbelt sign came on, so they all took their seats, which were leather and more comfortable than any furniture Rhett had ever owned, and a few minutes later, they were on their way.

King eventually stood up and leaned against his table. “To answer Agent Masson’s earlier question, this plane was organised by our new intel contact, and friend to Ouston and Lin, Mr Oh Yunho.”

Azrael spun to stare at Rhett and Jay. “You’re friends with him? From when you transported him and Edwards back to Australia?”

“We stayed at his house when friends of ours got married,” Jay said.

“When Harrigan and Asher freaking Garin got married,” Sid clarified. “A renegade hitman and a ghost sniper. What kind of friends do you have?”

“Friends that save our asses,” Rhett replied. “Now shut up and listen.”

King sighed. “We’ve had some serious developments in the last few hours. Ongoing and subject to change. Currently we are on our way to Shanghai?—”

Everyone’s head spun to face Yin and Chen, but it was very clear this was news to them as well.

“Shanghai?” Yin whispered, eyes wide with... Fear? “What for?”

“The fuck’s going on?” Sid asked. Then he levelled a glare at Yin and Chen. “Just what exactly did you get us into?”

“They didn’t get us into anything,” Rhett said, standing up and joining King at the front. He locked eyes with Sid. “So shut the fuck up and listen.”

“Our intel contact, Yixing, is missing. And so is Director Depraz.”

He had everyone’s attention now .

“They have been unaccounted for,” he checked his watch, “for going on eight hours.” King sighed. “And the leak from HQ was none other than our handler James Frankston. He was seen on security cameras entering Shanghai under a false passport just over an hour ago.”

“Frankston?” Coyote said, eyes darting to Rhett’s. “Is that why our intel was off? We got sent on a suicide mission because of Frankston?”

That’s certainly what it looked like.

King nodded. “But that’s not all.” He turned on the screen on the wall and pressed some buttons on his laptop.

On screen was footage of what was clearly an airport and a familiar face.

Frankston. They watched as he left the terminal and was met by a man in a black coat.

King froze the screen so they could see his face.

“This man,” he said, then turned to Yin and Chen. “Do you know who this is?”

Chen shook his head, frowning. Yin studied the screen, then looked up at King. “No. Am I supposed to?”

King pressed another button on his laptop and the image changed. The new photograph was what looked like a loading bay with... ambulances?

Oh shit.

Yin’s face paled.

There, on the screen, was a man pushing a wheelchair. When the image zoomed in on the man’s face, King froze the screen. “It’s the same man.”

The woman had her head down. She looked sedated, though it was hard to tell.

It wasn’t until he helped her onto a gurney and her hair fell away from her face that they could see her clearly.

Yin stood up, Chen beside him. “Jun-mei,” Yin whispered .

Rhett was quick to put his hands up in a calm-down fashion before there was a whole fucking incident on the small plane. “It’s okay. We’re on our way there right now.”

Yin’s face was stricken and afraid, and he watched, horrified, as the gurney was wheeled into a waiting ambulance and the doors were closed. “He took her?” he whispered.

“Yes,” King said flatly. “I’m sorry, Agent Yin. We tracked the ambulance but satellite imaging in China is very restricted.”

Chen put his hand on Yin’s shoulder and said something in Chinese.

“Who is she?” Sid asked.

Yin didn’t look capable of speaking. His face flashed with fear, horror, and realisation, then anger.

“Girlfriend,” Chen replied, keeping his arm around Yin’s shoulder, fisting his shirt. “Tao’s partner.”

“When?” Azrael asked, nodding to the screen. “When was this?”

“Over four days ago,” King replied gently.

Everyone’s faces changed, softened, because in all likelihood, they knew what that meant.

Yin put the heel of his hand to his sternum, to his stomach, and he peered up at Rhett. He looked about ready to puke. “Please.”

Rhett nodded. “We’ll find her.”

Director King made a face. “Agent Yin, I need to ask you some questions. Personal questions.”

Yin’s face crumpled, but Chen nodded. “He will answer.”

Yin turned to Chen then, disbelieving, and mumbled something in Chinese .

“They will help,” Chen said to him. Then he looked at Rhett, then to the others. “It’s okay. They are different. Not like home. You must trust them, Tao. You trust the captain. Tell him.”

Yin’s chest was heaving but he was utterly defeated. He had tears in his eyes and was still pale and distraught.

But it was King who spoke first. “Her name is Yin Jun-mei.”

Yin sagged, his head down, eyes closed, but he nodded.

“She has your surname, yet we can’t find any record of marriage,” King said. “We can’t find any record of her at all.”

Yin’s face screwed up in pain and he shook his head, and he let out a shuddery breath.

“The fuck are you lying about?” Sid said.

“I’m not lying,” he said, desperate, again looking at Rhett. Then he turned to the rest of the team, and to King and Zihao. “I’m not lying. I’m... I need to protect her.”

“To protect her,” King said. “We’ll need her real name.”

“Her real name,” Yin snapped, “is Jun-mei.”

“Tao,” Chen whispered gently, prompting him, pleading.

Yin looked at him, then sagged with a long sigh. “Her government name,” Chen said quietly, “is Shi Yufei.”

Shi Yufei . . .

Zihao cocked his head, staring at Yin as if that name meant something.

“Who’s that?” Rhett asked him. “You know who she is? You know that name?”

Zihao’s gaze eventually drew to Rhett’s. “No, I don’t. But...” He turned back to Yin. “That’s not a woman’s name.”

Yin’s gaze shot to Zihao, dark and murderous.

“What’s going on?” Coyote asked.

Yin ran his hand through his hair, looking as if he wanted to bolt. If they weren’t on a plane, Rhett was certain he would have.

“Jun-mei is,” Chen said. “How is word for . . . ?”

“Trans,” Jay offered beside Rhett.

“Yes,” Chen agreed.

Yin turned to Zihao and spoke rapid-fire Mandarin, but Chen shook his head. “No, no. Tao,” Chen said, holding Yin’s arm. Yin shook him off, and all Rhett could see was a desperate man.

“Hey,” Rhett murmured. Yin was still looking at Zihao, so Rhett stood in front of him and put his hand on Yin’s chest. “Hey,” he said, firmer this time.

Yin’s eyes met his and he seemed to snap out of his tirade.

“We will find her, okay? Us, all of us,” he said, gesturing to his team. “We will find her.”

Yin’s eyes became glassy, and he nodded, blinking back his tears. Chen clapped him on the back, his big hand giving him a squeeze.

Rhett turned to King. “You have the name. Find out what you can. I need to speak to my team alone.”

King looked around the cabin. “Where do you want us to go?”

“The head, galley, cockpit,” Rhett suggested.

King eyeballed him for a long moment before grunting, snatching up his laptop and his cane and glaring at Rhett as he headed for the galley. He waited for Zihao, who stared at Yin and Chen before following King .

As soon as they were alone, Rhett turned to Yin. “Okay, tell us what we need to know, and start from the beginning.”

Yin looked perplexed, cautious, and so pale.

Exhausted. He licked his lips and let out a huff of breath.

“I told her to be careful. She is not safe.” He shook his head, sadness seeping into his eyes.

“She’s a nurse in the military hospital.

I met her when I was in recovery. I spent four months there. ..”

In recovery? Oh, right. “South Sudan?” Rhett deduced.

Yin’s eyes darted to his. “Yes.”