And now Eddie was part of this ultraexclusive club. As the recently appointed senior executive vice chairman of Private Banking (Global) for the Liechtenburg Group, he now found himself standing in the middle of the futuristic auditorium at the Congress Centre, breathing in the rarefied air and catching slivers of his own reflection in the thin chrome leg of an auditorium chair. He was wearing his new bespoke Sartoria Ripense suit, which had been outfitted with an inner lining of ten-ply cashmere so that he never had to wear a ski jacket over it. His new Corthay squirrel suede chukkas had special rubber soles, so he would never slip on the slick Alpine streets. On his wrist was his newest horological acquisition—a rose gold A. Lange & Söhne Richard Lange “Pour le Mérite,” peeking out the precise amount from his sleeve cuff so other watchophiles would see what he was wearing. But most important of all was what he wore over this sartorial splendor—a black lanyard at the end of which was attached a white plastic badge with his name printed in the middle: Edison Cheng.

Eddie fondled the slick plastic badge as if it were a jewel-encrusted amulet, personally bestowed on him by the God of Davos. This badge distinguished him from all the pee-ons at the conference. He wasn’t some PR hack, journalist, or one of the common attendees. This white plastic badge with the blue line at the bottom meant that he was an official delegate.

Eddie glanced around the room at all the clusters of people in hushed conversations, trying to see which dictator, despot, or director he could recognize and connect with. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a tall Chinese man wearing a bright orange ski parka peeking in through the auditorium’s side door, seemingly a little lost. Wait a minute, I know that guy. Isn’t that Charlie Wu?

“Oy—Charlie!” Eddie yelled, a little too loudly, as he rushed over toward Charlie. Wait till he sees my official delegate badge!

Charlie beamed at him in recognition. “Eddie Cheng! Did you just get in from Hong Kong?”

“I came from Milan, actually. I was at the men’s fall fashion shows—front-row seat at Etro.”

“Wow. I guess being one of Hong Kong Tattle’s Best Dressed Men is serious work, isn’t it?” Charlie quipped.

“Actually, I made it into the Best Dressed Hall of Fame last year,” Eddie replied earnestly. He gave Charlie a quick once-over, noticing that he was wearing khaki pants with cargo pockets and a navy blue pullover under his bright orange parka. What a pity—he used to be so fashionable when he was younger, and now he’s dressed like every other tech-geek nobody. “Where’s your badge, Charlie?” Eddie asked, flashing his own proudly.

“Oh yes, we’re supposed to wear them at all times, aren’t we? Thanks for reminding me—it’s somewhere buried in my messenger bag.” Charlie dug around for a few seconds before fishing out his badge, and Eddie glanced at it, his curiosity morphing into shocked dismay. Charlie was holding an all-white badge affixed with a shiny holographic sticker. Fucky fuck, this was the most coveted badge! The one they only gave to world leaders! The only other person he had seen so far wearing that badge was Bill Clinton! How the fuck did Charlie get one? All he did was run Asia’s biggest tech company!

Trying to mask his envy, Eddie blurted, “Hey, are you attending my panel—Apocalypse Asia: How to Secure Your Assets When the China Bubble Really Bursts?”

“I’m actually on my way to give a talk to IGWEL.*3 What time do you go on?”

“Two o’clock. What’s your talk about?” Eddie asked, thinking that he could somehow tag along with Charlie.

“I don’t have anything prepared, really. I think Angela Merkel and some of the Scandinavians just wanted to pick my brain.”

Just then, Charlie’s executive assistant, Alice, walked up to join them.

“Alice, look who I found! I knew we’d bump into someone from back home sooner or later,” Charlie said.

“Mr. Cheng, so nice to see you here. Charlie—could I have a quick word?”

“Sure.”

Alice glanced at Eddie, who looked only too eager for her to continue while he was standing right there. “Er…would you mind coming with me for a moment?” she said diplomatically, guiding Charlie into a side reception room furnished with several lounge chairs and glass-cube coffee tables.

“What’s up? Are you still trying to recover from sitting at the same breakfast table with Pharrell?” Charlie teased.

Alice smiled tensely. “There’s been a developing situation all morning, and we didn’t want to disturb you until we knew more.”

“Well, spit it out.”

Alice took a deep breath before beginning. “I just got the latest update from our head of security in Hong Kong. I don’t quite know how to tell you this, but Chloe and Delphine are missing.”

“What do you mean missing?” Charlie was stunned—his daughters were under round-the-clock surveillance, and their pickups and drop-offs were handled with military precision by his SAS-trained security team. Missing was not a variable in their lives.

“Team Chungking was scheduled to pick them up outside Diocesan at 3:50 p.m., but the girls couldn’t be located at the school.”

“Couldn’t be located…” Charlie mumbled in shock.

Alice continued, “Chloe didn’t respond to any of her texts, and Delphine never showed up for choir at two. They thought maybe she sneaked off with her classmate Kathryn Chan to that frozen yogurt shop like she did last time, but then Kathryn turned up at choir practice and Delphine didn’t.”

“Did either of them activate their panic codes?” Charlie asked, trying to remain calm.

“No, they didn’t. Their phones both appear to have been deactivated, so we can’t trace them. Team 2046 has already spoken with Commander Kwok—the Hong Kong police have been placed on high alert. We also have four of our own teams searching everywhere for them, and the school is now reviewing all their security-camera footage with Mr. Tin.”

“I’m assuming someone’s talked to their mother?” Charlie’s wife—from whom he was estranged—lived in their house on The Peak, and the children spent every other week with her.

“Isabel can’t be reached. She told the housekeeper that she was meeting her mother for lunch at the Kowloon Cricket Club, but her mother reports that they haven’t spoken all week.”

Just then, the cell phone rang again and Alice quickly answered. She listened in silence, nodding her head every now and then. Charlie looked at her pensively. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. Ten years ago his brother Rob had been kidnapped by the Eleven Finger Triad. It was like déjà vu all over again.

“Okay. Tor jeh, tor jeh,”*4 Alice said, hanging up. Looking at Charlie, she reported, “That was the leader of Team Angels. They now think that Isabel might have left the country. They spoke to the upstairs maid, and Isabel’s passport is missing. But for some reason she didn’t take any suitcases.”

“Isn’t she in the middle of some new treatment?”

“Yes, but apparently she didn’t show up at her psychiatrist appointment this week.”

Charlie let out a deep sigh. This wasn’t a good sign.