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“Jenny, why are two policemen outside your house?” Ahmed Banik asked. She could hear both concern and fright in his voice. His sisters sitting in the back seat, Sabina and Sonia, murmured to each other. Jenny and Sabina worked together at New Era Cyber Tech in Dhaka. Currently, Jenny was the highest-ranking executive for the company in country.

Jenny peered out the passenger side window and frowned. The two men were in teal-blue police uniforms, and they stood in front of the house that she’d been renting for the last two years while she worked in Bangladesh.

“They probably want to ask Jenny another round of questions,” Sabina answered her brother’s question for Jenny. What Sabina said was probably true, but it still sent a frisson of discomfort up Jenny’s spine to see the police at her home.

She’d heard the horror stories about what some of the police had perpetrated in the last year, and it had made her blood run cold. Granted, it was just a few outliers, but most people thought they were doing the bidding of the Awani League. They were the government in charge at the moment.

Stop it! You’re overreacting, Rivers!

Jenny took a deep breath and worked to keep her breathing at a comfortable rate.

I am not scared. I am not scared.

Jenny concentrated on the fact that her company had assured every single employee from the US—CEO and executives multiple times—that they were completely safe in Bangladesh, despite the unrest.

“Maybe we should just turn around and go to our parents’ house,” Ahmed suggested. “We’ll pretend we’re still hiking in Sreemangal.”

“If I keep them waiting, it’ll only make things worse,” Jenny said. “You head on home. I’ll handle things.”

“No. It’s better if we both go,” Sabina protested. “We both work for NECT. Remember, the rule is to stick together.”

“I’m the highest-ranking NECT employee here in Bangladesh since Mr. Roberts and Mrs. Tyree left last week. I need to handle this. You stay with your brother and sister.”

Jenny opened the car door and stepped out onto the small drive that led up to her bungalow. The two men stood straighter, their rifles pointing up behind them.

“How can I help you?” Jenny asked.

“You are Jennifer Rivers,” the first officer asked. “You work for New Tera Tech.”

“New Era Cyber Tech,” Jenny corrected.

The young man’s mouth twisted and his brow furled. “That’s what I said. New Era Tech Cyber,” he spit out. “We have questions for you. You need to come with us.”

The other police officers who had come to her office to talk to her, had the name of the company. NECT backed up many of the servers and websites for various competing political coalitions and the universities that were currently protesting.

NECT’s international stance had been and always would be apolitical. As someone who had a master’s degree in public relations, Jenny understood this, and had always felt comfortable explaining her company’s position. She’d been working in public relations for eight years. This was not her first rodeo.

“You need to come with us,” the second officer said. “Now.” He looked over her shoulder, then she turned and saw that Ahmed had gotten out of the car and was leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Tell your boyfriend to get back in the car,” the younger, surly officer demanded.

“He’s not my boyfriend and I’m not getting in your car. Now tell me what you want.”

“Our supervisor needs to ask you a few questions,” the older officer, who spoke better English, said.

Now that Jenny was over the surprise of these men showing up at her house, she was noticing things. Their shoes were wrong. They were wearing two different kinds of boots. The police had a specific type of boot—black with a rounded toe—and one of the men had brown boots on. Also, the young man, besides having horrible sweat stains on his teal uniform, was missing a button. Jenny had never seen such a thing. Police officers took pride in their uniforms.

The young man grabbed her upper arm. “Let’s go.”

“Let me go,” she shouted.

“Let her go,” the sisters yelled from the car.

Jenny was hurled to the ground as the young officer let go of her when Ahmed’s shoulder hit the young man’s stomach. It was like Ahmed played tackle for the Cincinnati Bengals football team.

“No,” Jenny screamed. Attacking a member of the Bangladeshi was a terrible offense.

“Ahmed, no!” Sonia or Sabina yelled from the car.