Jordan took over the protection detail at 6:00 PM. Keeping a low profile, she waited as Tracy Linwood used the facilities, then trailed her back to the dining room, where she joined a table of five women, a few of which Jordan had to work to ID. She recognized the woman to Linwood’s left. She was Willa Hamish, a British Labor politician. Next to her was Ellis Quinn, CEO of Quinn Industries, a defense contractor. The others presented a challenge.
This was the eighth year of the Women’s Leadership Alliance, a group of high-powered women from all walks of life, who served as examples for young girls around the world. Their goal—to set an agenda for progress and change in the coming year—seemed a bit lofty.
After a keynote speech, delivered by a European actress Jordan thought looked vaguely familiar, the dinner party dissolved, and Linwood headed for her suite. There was the normal chitchat and then she asked Jordan about the plane crash. Jordan gave her the condensed version. Back in the room, she did a quick sweep and secured the main door.
“Do you need anything else, Mrs. Linwood?”
“A glass of wine. Care to join me?”
“I’d love to, but duty calls.”
Jordan escorted Linwood to breakfast the next morning, then went back upstairs and slept. The sound of her phone ringing at 1:00 PM woke her with a start.
The number belonged to the U.S. embassy in Ukraine.
Linwood? Not likely. If something had happened downstairs, she would have known.
Henry? It couldn’t be. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours since she’d dropped off the fragments.
It turned out to be Mary with an order for Jordan to report to Lory’s office immediately. Since she didn’t work for him, Jordan hung up and phoned her boss.
“You’re being temporarily reassigned,” Daugherty told her. “Something about the situation there on the ground. They have a problem. You know the backstory. The director issued the orders.”
“Is this about the plane crash?”
“Lory’ll have to fill you in. Just be sure you pack up your gear. Someone else has been assigned to Linwood. They’ll need the room.”
“That’s it? No sage advice?”
“You want some advice? Here it is. Good luck, Jordan. Watch your back.”
* * *
It took her forty-five minutes to reach the embassy, and Lory was pacing. As soon as she entered his office, he gestured for Mary to close the door behind her then got right to the point. “We have a problem.”
Jordan didn’t like the way he said “we.” Had something else happened? Her mind immediately flew to her conversation with Nye Davis.
“What’s wrong?”
“This.” He threw a piece of paper across the desk. It was a lab report.
“You can? Then I’m all ears because I’d sure like to know how in the hell we ended up with the wrong guy.”
Jordan frowned and picked up the report. She’d assumed it was the report on the fragment she’d taken down to the lab. Instead, it was a copy of the repatriation documentation required by IIC.
She skimmed the results. “Sir, this has to be wrong.”
“They ran the DNA comparison twice.”
“Are you saying McClasky was escorting someone other than Zhen?”
“Either that or our guy got mixed up with another body at the morgue.”
“That’s not possible. I secured the remains myself and verified the bag reached the morgue. My initials were even on the seal. The tech would have had to break it when he pulled the first sample.” She shook the paper. “This test was run on the man I found handcuffed to McClasky.”
“Which is why you’re headed to China, Agent Jordan.”
“Excuse me?” It seemed impossible that she’d heard him correctly.
“How’s your Cantonese?”
“Rusty.” In truth, she spoke only a little. Enough to say hello, good-bye, and ask where the nearest bathroom was.
“Then I suggest you brush up because I need you to locate Zhen. Or find out what happened to him and who took his place on that airplane. I don’t think I need to explain what a diplomatic nightmare this is turning into, for both the U.S. and Ukraine.” He reached down, picked up another piece of paper, and handed her a printout of a boarding pass. “You’re booked on the next flight for Guangzhou. It leaves in two hours.”
That didn’t give her much time.
“Mary has the contact information you’ll need. I’ve spoken with our FBI legal attaché in China. He’s stationed in Beijing. He put McClasky in touch with Yang, but otherwise the legat has taken a hands-free approach. However, he expects to be kept in the loop. So do I.” He drilled her with his stare. “I’m reporting straight to the director on this one, Jordan. Good luck. Watch your back.”
Jordan nodded.
On the way out, Mary handed her a packet. “I e-mailed you all the intel, but I thought these might help. There’s a guide book of Guangdong Province and a language dictionary.”
“Thank you, Mary.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
“What, no watch your back?”
Mary tossed her a wave, and Jordan headed for the exit. It was the third time in the last three hours that someone had wished her luck. She wondered what they knew that she didn’t.