Purplish bruises covered his dorsal muscles.

“Bryce…”

He looked at her, then glanced at his back carelessly. “A souvenir from the Chinese Secret Service. They don’t like me much. I think it’s because Yeo’s mother defected them to join the CIA.” He threw her an acid smile. “I think that was your doing.”

Sarah felt her stomach plunge.

Bryce had a knack for electronic locks. Apparently, when you combined Bartwoski and Walker’s genes you got computer expert ninjas.

Now, if he could avoid his mother from killing him everytime he slipped in somewhere dangerous disobeying CIA instructions, the Law or —which was worse— her orders, his life would be easier. And longer. Definitively longer.