this huge room was a McDonald’s hamburger stand.
Nolan had to close his good eye for a moment. Was this real—or was the ketamine tricking him?
He opened his eye again—and yes, sandwiched between the giant ancient Yuan Dynasty pottery and the pair of authentic terracotta soldiers from the Huang era was a McDonald’s. It had a small counter with two uniformed servers behind it. A huge menu board hung over their heads, and behind them were smoky grills and the crackling oil to make the fries. Off to the side was a self-service soft drink dispenser.
The servant turned to them and smiled. “My employer believed his son would have loved this. So he built it here for him.”
Nolan was so amazed that he almost didn’t notice the servant’s use of the past tense when referring to Sunny Hi’s son.
A beautiful Asian woman walked by them, holding a packet of french fries. The servant bowed to her; Nolan and Twitch politely nodded. The woman smiled at them, sadly, then disappeared deeper into the house.
The servant said to them: “My employer’s wife. It’s been hard on her.”
They left the throne area and were led through a series of rooms. One was a library full of books, dark polished wood and low-lit lamps. It looked like something at Oxford, yet everything was built at half scale, as if it had been designed solely for a young child.
The next room featured a home movie theater and a massive array of video games that were all up and running. But again, judging by the cartoonish wallpaper and the types of video games on display, this room, too, appeared to have been intended for a child.
After this was a sizable gymnasium with a soccer net on one end and a baseball batting cage at the other. Yet walking through it, Nolan noticed plastic wrapping still on the baseball bats, and that the twine on the soccer net was so tight it had obviously never been used.
They were finally led to a large but very subdued nursery. There were a few toys scattered about, the largest a life-size, overstuffed teddy bear gathering dust in one corner. The walls of the nursery were covered with minimalist murals of peaceful Chinese forests, mountains and rivers. Calming music was being piped in from somewhere.
Next to a large window stood a pearl-white, king-size bed, with sides like a crib. Two nurses stood in the shadows nearby.
Sitting in a chair next to the bed was the Shang Si himself, Sunny Hi.
He was younger than Nolan had imagined him. This man, who until only recently had refused to be photographed, who reportedly tortured and killed anyone who dared point a camera in his direction, was maybe a couple years shy of forty. If this man had achieved so much at such a young age, Nolan thought, maybe by the age of fifty or so, he would be running the world.
He was dressed plainly, in a shirt and slacks and Italian loafers. He was unremarkable facially, and seemed if at all only slightly buff. He really didn’t look like much of a pirate. But looks were frequently deceiving.
There were no introductions; none were needed. Sunny Hi knew who they were by now. But how ironic, Nolan thought. This was how the mission was supposed to play out. Their job had been to get as close as possible to the mob boss. But no way did they think it would be like this—in a nursery—and without any weapons or assassination device, with no way to get out and no way to call for help.
At a gentle wave from Sunny Hi, the servant disappeared, as did the nurses. This left Nolan and Twitch standing there, uncomfortable beyond belief, with Twitch still clutching the tiny bowl of sugar.
Nolan gave Twitch a subtle nudge. He stumbled forward, holding out the sugar bowl like a magi offering a cup of myrrh.
“A present,” Twitch said in English, adding quickly, “A birthday gift—for your son.”
He said the last word almost with the inflection of a question, sending a chill down Nolan’s spine. He was certain this room was under surveillance by heavily armed goons. He was also sure that, with one wrong move, both he and Twitch would be reduced to a pile of ash in a matter of seconds.
Sunny Hi motioned them forward. He took the bowl from Twitch—and seemed genuinely affected. Nolan even saw the man’s eyes well up.
“There’s many tons more where that came from,” Twitch told him. “In