Mistress

Chapter 28

I’m escorted by two serious Chinese men, each approximately the size of a small house, down a spacious corridor filled with expensive artwork and canned lighting and purple carpeting. The Liu Group is doing okay these days, at least from appearances. I’m not a big fan of purple, but I will admit that Prince’s Purple Rain is one of the best albums of my generation. You could argue that 1999 was superior, but Purple showed more emotion.

The two guys escorting me, on the other hand, show none. If they weren’t moving, I’d swear they were statues. They walk me past a series of offices, each one bigger and fancier than the previous one. We turn a corner and then we’re going down another hallway. We stop at an elevator.

“Where are we going?” I ask Frick and Frack. “I’m supposed to be meeting with Jonathan Liu.”

“You’re mistaken,” says the bigger of the two.

The elevator opens and they push me inside.

“I should warn you,” I say. “I know karate, jujitsu, and a lot of other Asian words.”

Nothing. Not even a smile. When the elevator opens again, we’re in an underground garage. A black limousine pulls up and a side door opens.

“Get in,” says one of the men.

Well, I asked for this. This could be the biggest mistake of my life.

I step inside the limo and the door closes behind me. It automatically locks. I’m alone inside the passenger area, staring at a black screen that obscures the driver.

We pull out onto Connecticut Avenue and then cross over Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue. It occurs to me that they could be driving me to some deserted location so they can put me out of my misery.

But then we take a roundabout and turn right onto Q Street. That’s when I figure out where we’re going. They’re not taking me to an undisclosed location.

They’re taking me to the Chinese embassy.