Shadow Tyrants (Oregon Files 13)

“Did a lot of work in this region back in the day. Saw some of the local brass at that time.”

“What if they recognize you?”

“Never happen. Ah was too low-level back then. These guys wouldn’t bother looking at an officer ranking lower than major.”

MacD had been looking at her, but his eyes suddenly focused on someone over Raven’s left shoulder. They widened as a subtle message to her just before she heard a man’s voice speak to her. She turned to see Romir Mallik approaching her with a big grin.

“Miss Jain,” he said, “I’m so glad you could come tonight.” Asad Torkan stood silently by his side.

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; Raven gave him her high-wattage smile and said, “It’s a pleasure to see you, Mr. Mallik. It’s a wonderful party and a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. I’m happy to finally meet you in person. I’ve been a fan of your films for many years. I’m sorry you went to America to continue your career. I hope you have returned for good.”

“If India will have me.” She turned to MacD. “May I introduce you to Cole Randle.”

Mallik narrowed his eyes at MacD and nodded curtly.

“Perhaps I can have you over sometime to watch one of your movies,” Mallik said, obviously excluding MacD. “It would be a treat to be able to hear your comments on it as we watch. I have a private forty-seat theater three stories below this room.”

“I would like that,” Raven said.

He looked at her with a curious expression. “Which of your films would you choose?” He waited for an answer with a tight smile. Raven couldn’t tell if he was simply being courteous or that he suspected she wasn’t who she said she was. Torkan was as stone-faced as ever, but he was watching both her and MacD intently.

She didn’t hesitate, saying, “Golibari Ki Rekha,” an action movie which meant Firing Line in English. It was Kiara Jain’s most famous role.

That seemed to be the right response because Mallik beamed at her and said, “That is my favorite. Later, if you would be so kind, I may ask you to indulge us with a song.”

At the mention of a possible performance, Raven felt her stomach clench. She paused for only a fraction of a second before she said, “I’d be delighted.”

“Excellent,” Mallik said. “Well, I need to tend to my other guests, but you can be sure I will return.” He took Raven’s hand and gave it a squeeze before he walked away with Torkan.

When they were out of earshot, MacD said, “You don’t sing, do you?”

“Not a note. If they put a microphone in my face and make me serenade the crowd, every ear within a six-block radius will be bleeding.”

She was turned away from Mallik for the moment, facing the direction of the hallway leading to the kitchen, which was on the opposite side of the ballroom from the bathrooms. A Caucasian woman with red hair caught her eye because she wasn’t wearing an evening gown. Instead, she was dressed in the attire of the serving staff. She was the only non-Indian working there.

The woman was carefully surveying the room, almost like an operative. Her face seemed familiar to Raven, but she couldn’t quite place it. The servant kept scanning the room until her gaze settled on Romir Mallik. She stared at him for a few seconds, then went back into the kitchen.

She walked with a grace and athleticism that wasn’t usual for a server, and that’s when Raven realized she’d seen the woman’s face before.

MacD must have noticed her expression because he said, “What’s wrong?”

“Remember that sketch Lyla Dhawan had Kevin Nixon draw?” Raven said. “It was circulated to the crew after she left.”

MacD nodded. “Sure. The woman who killed half the passengers on Xavier Carlton’s missing jet and then imprisoned the rest on Jhootha Island. Why?”

“She’s here.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

THE RED SEA

Juan pushed away from Nomad’s air lock and swam toward the shipwreck’s superstructure with Linda behind him. They were wearing full-face masks and could communicate with each other and the sub using low-frequency acoustic transmitters. Cameras attached to each of their masks were recording the dive, but the video couldn’t be transmitted underwater. Though the cooling suit was keeping the heated water at bay, Juan could feel how hot it was because of the slim gap between his mask and hood. It wasn’t hot enough to burn him, but it was certainly hot enough to cook him in minutes if his cooling unit failed.

“How are you doing back there, Linda?” he asked.