Death is Forever

wore.
    “Cole?” Erin called, scrambling forward as she saw him fall. “What’s wrong?”
    “No worries, Miss Windsor,” Street said. “You’re safe now. Did you find Abe’s mine?”
    The sudden white arc of an electric lantern blinded Erin just as a man’s hand closed around her arm.
    “Let go of me! Cole’s hurt!”
    “Don’t worry about that bastard. He was hired to kill you.”
    “You’re crazy!”
    “Am I? Read this, luv. It’s from your father.”
    Erin glanced at the bright yellow plastic being held out to her. She was shaking so much from cold and fear she could barely breathe. “I won’t look at anything until I help Cole.”
    Street smiled reassuringly despite his urgent need to know about Abe’s mine. If the mine hadn’t been found, he would need Erin’s cooperation to find it. She’d proved that she was better at unraveling Abe’s secrets than anyone else.
    “Check on Blackburn if you have to,” Street said, letting go of her, “but you’ll feel like a bloody fool after you read your father’s letter.”
    Without looking at the man who was no more than a dark presence looming behind blinding light, Erin hurried forward and knelt at Cole’s side. A quick check told her that he was breathing regularly. Blood was welling slowly from a bruise at the base of his skull.
    Relief raced through her, making her almost weak. She stroked his forehead lightly, pushing wet hair away from his face. A motion just behind her made her look around. She saw the metal gleam of a pistol.
    The muzzle was trained on Cole.
    “Well, Miss Windsor. How is he?”
    “Out cold. Who the hell are you?”
    “Jason Street. Didn’t your father mention me to you?”
    “No.”
    “Read this, luv. I’m on your side.”
    Erin stood and looked at the packet Street was holding out. From the corner of her eye she noticed that the pistol muzzle stayed pointed at Cole rather than following her movements. She shrugged out of the rucksack and sat down on it, ignoring the crunch and grind of ruined candy tins.
    Reluctantly she looked at the packet Street was holding out to her. She really didn’t want to face whatever was inside. She didn’t want to know that once more she’d been just another pawn in another international game played out in bed as well as in smoke-filled rooms. At least this time no one was cutting her up with a knife.
    Yet.
    Silently she held out her hand. Street smiled encouragement and dropped the packet on her palm.
    “That’s it, luv. Read it. You’re safe now.”
    She undid the string and folded back the bright yellow plastic to reveal a thin pouch. Inside there was an envelope with the Central Intelligence Agency logo on it and her name scrawled across the front in her father’s bold, masculine handwriting. She wiped her muddy hands on her shorts and opened the sealed envelope.
    It took several tries before her numb fingers managed to pull out the folded sheet of heavy ivory paper. The stationery was familiar, for it had come from her father’s desk in Washington. The letter was handwritten and brief:
    Erin—

    I’m sorry, baby. I was a fool to let you go with
    Cole Blackburn. I’ve discovered that Blackburn is owned by the Chen family, the most powerful, ruthless, and ambitious tong in Southeast Asia.
    The man who brings this to you, Jason Street, can be trusted. He works for the Australian counterpart of the agency. Do what he says. Above all, don’t trust Blackburn. He’s your assassin, not your bodyguard.
    Be careful. I love you.
    The letter was signed as her father always did in his letters to her, with an aggressive, oversized D for “Dad.”
    Erin closed her eyes and felt cold all the way to the center of her bones. When she opened her eyes and looked at Street, he was watching her, but the muzzle of the gun was still aimed at Cole.
    Cole hadn’t moved. He still lay on his stomach with one arm folded underneath his chest. His face was turned away from her.
    She turned to Jason Street. “How did you find me?”
    “It wasn’t easy. The chokies Blackburn works for had you covered like a bloody blanket. If the black boy following you hadn’t been broadcasting in the clear, I’d still be looking. As it was, I just homed in on the RDF.”
    “Chokies?”
    “Chinamen,” Street said impatiently, then reined himself in. “The Chen family. Blackburn has been in partnership with Chen Wing for years.”
    “Are you the one who gave that information to my father?”
    “Is