She gripped the book to her chest and ran up the stairs into the mezzanine. The staircase to her right would emerge closest to City Hall-

Shit!

Nina stopped, cursing her own stupidity. The station was closed-and so were its entrances. There was no daylight visible at the top of either flight of stairs. They had been sealed off.

No way out.

Noises from the platform below. She couldn’t go back into the tunnel-

She spotted a space in one wall, an alcove where there had once been a ticket booth.

And a hatch set into it…

Nina ran to it, having no other options. There was a handle-and a small lock.

She tugged the handle. It didn’t move. Running feet on the platform.

She slammed the end of the book hard against the panel, once, twice. Glass cracked, but she didn’t care as she drove it against the closed hatch like a battering ram one last time-

The lock broke, pieces of metal popping free.

Nina threw the hatch open, not caring what was beyond as she climbed through and pulled it shut behind her. Low ceiling, a short passage leading to a vertical shaft.

Which only went down.

She looked over the edge. There was a very faint light below, a lone bulb at the bottom. The shaft went down deeper than the subway tunnel. She had no idea where it led.

Not that she had a choice. The running men were drawing closer.

Struggling to support the book in the crook of her elbow, Nina hurriedly descended the ladder.

The glass elevator ascended the sheer face of the Ycom building, giving Chase and Sophia a spectacular view out over Shanghai as it rose. Mei had parked her taxi in a lot beneath the building, and was waiting for them. There was a security station at the entrance to the lower ground lobby, but the two guards on duty had practically saluted Sophia, quickly ushering her through.

They weren’t alone in the elevator. As an Internet service provider, Ycom was a twenty-four-hour operation, and ascending with them was a nerdy young Chinese man in a Buffy T-shirt-like yuppies, geeks too were apparently the same anywhere in the world-who had just received a bag of delicious-smelling food from a delivery boy on a moped. He also seemed to recognize Sophia, smiling bashfully while never quite having the nerve to look directly at her.

He got off on the twentieth floor. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” said Chase as the doors closed and the elevator resumed its ascent to the top floor.

“Richard likes to show me off,” Sophia told him. “I’ve been paraded around the building a few times.”

“Right. And I bet all the geeks like him couldn’t wait to crack one off afterwards.”

“Eddie!” Sophia chided him. “That’s disgusting.”

He grinned. “Well, you know me.”

“All too well, but you never used to be that vulgar.”

“Hey, I didn’t have to come,” Chase said, raising a hand as if about to push a button to stop the elevator. “I can go home again if you want.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked away from him, out at the shimmering Blade Runner neon of the city. “It’s just that… I didn’t know how I was going to feel when I saw you again. Especially after the way you reacted on Corvus’s yacht. And in all truthfulness? I still don’t know.” A sidelong glance. “And I can tell that you’ve still got some issues. Eddie, I-”

“You asked for help, so I came to help,” interrupted Chase firmly. “Especially since it affects the IHA.” Something occurred to him. “How did you know I worked for the IHA in the first place? You’d obviously written that note before the party; you knew I’d be there.”

“Richard has a file on you,” Sophia said. “And one on your… your girlfriend. Dr. Wilde.”

“Nina?” Chase exclaimed, filled with sudden alarm.

“Yes. I don’t know why he has them, but they were with the other files I think he stole from the IHA.” She turned to face the door. “We’re here.”

Chase had more questions, but held them back as a soft bell chimed and the doors parted. Sophia stepped out into a reception area of black marble, her heels ticking on the polished stone. He followed.

Seated behind a large semicircular black desk was a single uniformed security guard. He reacted with pleased surprise on seeing Sophia, then wariness when he noticed Chase behind her. “Good evening, Lady Sophia,” he said in a thick accent, standing and lowering his head in a slight bow.

“Good evening, Deng,” Sophia replied pleasantly. She rounded the desk, gesturing with one hand for Chase to stay where he was. “How are you tonight?”

“Very good, Lady Sophia,” said Deng, breathing faster. Chase couldn’t decide whether the man was nervous or excited. He got a fairly good idea a moment later when Sophia stepped right up to Deng and whispered something in Mandarin. Deng’s eyebrows rose with the distinct delight of somebody who couldn’t believe his luck. He stuttered a reply. Sophia leaned even closer, whispering into his ear, then giving him a very soft kiss that left a little smudge of glossy red lipstick on his cheek. Chase narrowed his eyes.

Deng fiddled with his tie, then bowed again and hurriedly backed away through a side door into a washroom. “What was that?” Chase demanded.

“Deng and I have an arrangement,” Sophia answered.

“Yeah, it bloody looks like it!”

There was a flash of irritation in her dark eyes. “Not like that. Although that’s what he thinks now-I just told him to, well, get ready for me in there. I’ve been nice to him, given him little gifts, and he’s been useful in return. Like looking the other way when I need to get into my husband’s office without anyone knowing.”

Chase glanced at the door. “He’s getting ready for you, eh?”

“Eddie, we don’t have time for this. Come on.” She went to the double doors behind the desk.

“You go in,” he told her. “Be with you in a sec.”

“Eddie!”

He ignored her, going to the bathroom door and quietly tapping on it. Deng’s eager voice came from the other side. He slowly opened the door to be greeted by the sight of the security guard, back to him, pulling off his shirt. Deng said something else, full of enthusiastic anticipation, and turned around-

Chase punched him in the face. Deng wobbled backwards until he bumped against the wall, eyes crossed, then slowly slid down to the floor and passed out.

“In your fucking dreams, mate,” Chase told the inert figure with an angry jab of his forefinger. He emerged from the bathroom to find Sophia waiting, her arms crossed impatiently. “What?” he asked, semi-innocently. “You didn’t seriously think I was going to let the dirty little sod get away with that?”

“Just come on,” she snapped, opening the door.

Beyond was a suite of interconnected rooms, softly lit and expensively decorated. Dominating the central hall were several large sheets of copper-colored metal hanging down from the ceiling like stiff banners. “What the hell are these?” Chase asked. The metal had a weathered, hand-beaten look to it, with long, coiling strips in other colors winding at random across its surface.

“Richard’s latest installation. He changes them every month or two,” said Sophia, leading him past them to an office at the far end of the suite. “They’re by a German artist called Klaus Klem. Worth about eight million dollars altogether.”

“Eight million?” Chase cried. “I wouldn’t give eight pence for them!”

Sophia sighed. “You never did have an eye for art, did you? Anyway, here we are.” She went to one wall and moved aside an abstract painting, which Chase imagined was probably worth another eight million dollars, to reveal the door of a small safe. Rather than a dial, it had an electronic keypad.

“You got the combination?” he asked.

Sophia gave him a sly smile. “Some champagne and a big bed, and I can get whatever I want.”