Li’s face turned a bright shade of crimson and sweat poured down his face as he started speaking in rapid-fire Chinese, his voice strained and high-pitched. Ryder didn’t understand a word of it, but he assumed the man was pleading for his life. He’d heard it all before, in more languages than he could count.

“Save it,” Ryder said, gesturing with the pistol. “Get over on the bed.”

But Li’s voice grew even more agonized. He was talking so fast he couldn’t even catch his breath.

“Last chance,” Ryder said. “Lie down on the bed or this is really going to get nasty.”

It was then that Li started clutching at his chest. His face had turned nearly purple and he was no longer even looking at Ryder. His eyes were tightly closed, his face a mask of pain.

A few seconds later, he keeled over.

Ryder looked down at Li, lying on the floor next to a used condom wrapper, his movements slower now, his face a rictus of agony. He watched the Chinese man for a few minutes, but it was obvious that he was on his way out. A few moments later, his movements stopped completely. He was dead.

Sonuvabitch, Ryder muttered to himself. If that wasn’t the easiest money he’d ever made, he didn’t know what was. Smiling at his good fortune, he put the pistol back in his bag and started making a few alterations to the scene.

Acting quickly, before the lividity in Li’s body could set, Ryder hauled the corpse up onto the bed, arranging him back against the pillows. He turned the volume down on the TV before wiping the remote clean of prints. He then placed the remote in Li’s hand to get his fingerprints on it before dropping it to his side.

Looking down at the corpse, Ryder briefly considered whether he should try stripping the body and dressing him in the woman’s underwear. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. Too much risk-and too damn disgusting-even for fifty grand. He did grit his teeth long enough to pull down Li’s boxer shorts. He also reached into the duffel bag and withdrew two hardcore gay porno magazines, not very politically correct in China. He put Li’s prints on them, as well, and laid them on the bed next to the body. That would have to be good enough.

The stage set, Ryder glanced around the room, making sure he hadn’t left any incriminating evidence behind. One of the advantages to doing a job in such a questionable environment was that it would be nearly impossible for the CSI geeks to find any usable DNA. The room probably held the fingerprints, hairs and assorted bodily secretions of enough people to fill RFK stadium.

Ryder exited the room, smearing the doorknobs and locks as he left. He didn’t think anyone would look too closely at the case. Once they realized Li was a Chinese diplomat-and saw the circumstances under which he died-they’d chalk the death up as an obvious heart attack and leave it at that. If anyone on the outside got implicated, it was going to be Candy, not him. But he doubted it would come to that. If there was one thing the Chinese hated more than anything, it was embarrassment.

As he rode the elevator back down to the ground floor, Ryder wondered if his client would be satisfied enough to give him the bonus. It didn’t really matter. One hundred grand was enough for the job, even without the extra money.

Now if he could just get home in time to watch the NBA finals, he’d be a happy man.

SIMON WOOD

Few authors in the thriller community are as borderline 007 as Simon Wood, former racecar driver, licensed airplane pilot, private investigator and world traveler-replete with adventures featuring Transylvanian wolves and Thai railroads. It seems Simon is a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

So it’s no wonder that Nick, the stubbornly love-struck protagonist in “Protecting the Innocent” isn’t adverse to a little risk, either. This story asks you to consider how far you’d go for love. Would you risk your own life? If you’re anything like Nick-or Simon-you might go just a little too far.

PROTECTING THE INNOCENT

“See you later.” Nick kissed Melanie goodbye and watched her walk away. The lunchtime throng on Market Street swallowed her up, but the crowd parted at different times to expose glimpses of an arm, a leg, a shoulder.

He couldn’t get enough of her. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind. It was more than just an infatuation-he felt a connection with her on every level possible. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about marriage, although he didn’t want to share that with her until he was sure she felt the same way. If things carried on the way they were going, he’d test the waters, maybe whisk her off to somewhere romantic and let the moment sweep both of them away.

A friendly sounding voice called his name. Instinctively, he turned.

The man looked familiar and at the same time didn’t. He was tall, blond and well-attired. His suit certainly hadn’t come off the rack.

“Nick Forbes, yes?” The man put out a hand.

“Yes.” Nick took it and shook. “Do I know you?”

“Sort of. I’m Melanie’s brother, Jamie.”

Now Nick saw the resemblance. Melanie had mentioned a brother, but they’d never met.

“If you’re looking for Mel, she’s just gone.” He pointed in the direction of the Wells Fargo building.

“I came to see you, not Melanie.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You and Melanie have become close.”

“There’s no become about it. We are close.”

“Please let me finish.”

People brushed by them, so eager to get on with their own lives that they paid scant regard to this encounter. It was if the two men had fallen off the world and no longer had any impact on society.

“Your relationship with my sister is a problem.” The smile went out of Jamie’s eyes. Coldness replaced the warmth.

Who did this son of bitch think he was? Nick thought. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. You have to stop seeing her.”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you have no right to tell me or Melanie how to live our lives.”

“Yes, I do.” Jamie pressed his fingers into Nick’s chest. “Stay away from her or there will be trouble.”

Nick knocked Jamie’s hand aside. “Is that a threat?”

“Just do as I tell you and you won’t get hurt.”

“Now that is a threat.”

Jamie shrugged the response away like he’d heard it all before. “I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Just do as I say. It’s not a threat. It’s a warning. Break it off with Melanie before it’s too late.” Jamie walked by Nick and let the current of people sweep him away. “I’ll be watching.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick called out to Jamie’s retreating form.

Nick picked up Melanie at her condo the next night. He wanted to mention Jamie’s reprehensible scene but couldn’t do it. From what she’d mentioned about him, they were close. Very close. Telling her about what happened yesterday might force her to choose sides.

While he waited for Melanie to finish changing, Nick tried to make sense of what had happened. The guy was just trying to protect his sister. That was understandable. His outburst was almost admirable. Except it wasn’t. It was excessive and totally uncalled for. There was no way Nick could tell Melanie about it. She took his arm and led him to the elevator.

Nick had reservations at her favorite restaurant in the city, a French place called The Fifth Floor. He had planned on taking her to a Greek place he liked on Battery, but he’d switched at the last minute. The reason-privacy. The Fifth Floor was secluded and somewhat exclusive. If Jamie wanted to create a scene, he’d have a hard job.

During the drive, Nick’s animal instincts kicked in. He sensed a car was tailing him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this feeling. For the past couple of weeks, he would have sworn he’d seen the same car outside his home, at the gym and parked across from his job. If it wasn’t a car, it was someone following him on foot. He’d put it down to paranoia, but after Jamie’s warning, he wasn’t so sure.