23

“That was no random mugging,” said Connor, nursing his lip with a bag of ice from the hotel’s minibar. Having called Mr. Sterling’s chauffeur, they’d escorted the girls back to their home, a gated mansion on Point Piper. Then the two of them had been dropped off at their hotel in Circular Quay.

“Thieves often work in pairs,” Ling observed as she settled back on her bed and flicked through the TV channels.

“Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that both the girls were attacked?”

Ling shrugged. “Not really. They were carrying expensive designer handbags. That made them targets. Hey, cool, a Bruce Lee movie!” She tossed aside the remote.

Connor set down his bag of ice. “How can you be so relaxed about all of this?”

“We stopped them. Job done,” said Ling, folding her arms behind her head and focusing on the TV screen. “Now stop worrying and watch the movie.”

“I disagree. There’s everything to be worried about. It can’t be coincidence. The attack had to be planned. What about those men in the pickup truck? Perhaps my instinct was right. Maybe they were carrying out surveillance on us.”

Ling glanced over. “For what purpose?”

“To test our skills.”

Ling sat up and muted the TV. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Sterling would have his own daughters mugged?”

Connor nodded. “Either that or someone else has a personal grudge against the girls. If it’s the latter, then we have a real problem on our hands.”

There was a knock at the door. Connor got up, checked the peephole, then unlocked the latch.

Colonel Black strode in and turned off the TV. “I just got off the phone with Mr. Sterling.”

Connor braced himself for the fallout. Although they’d protected the girls, he knew he’d been slow to react. That stupid dropbear prank of Jason’s had distracted him at the crucial moment. If he’d been tuned in and in Code Yellow, he would have noticed the Rollerblader’s approach, questioned his diversion from the bike path and taken action to remove Emily from the danger zone before the attack. Only Ling’s speedy intervention had kept the Rollerblader from escaping with her bag.

“So what did he say?” Ling prompted.

Colonel Black offered one of his rare smiles. “He was delighted with your reactions today.”

Relieved, Connor slammed a fist into his palm. “I told you!”

The colonel’s brow knotted with puzzlement. “What are you talking about?”

Connor explained his suspicions about the mugging being a setup job.

Colonel Black glanced out the hotel window at the opera house and rubbed his chin. “You have no firm proof. And, judging by my conversation with Mr. Sterling, I’d be surprised. So we must assume a hostile party is involved. Could you identify the men?”

“Yes. Mine had a distinctive lion tattoo on his arm,” replied Connor.

“And I won’t easily forget how bad my guy’s breath smelled!” said Ling, waving a hand in front of her pinched nose.

“But the men in the truck, no,” Connor admitted. “Their bandanas and shades covered most of their faces.”

“Then this is our wake-up call,” said Colonel Black, fixing them with his flint-gray eyes. “Operation Gemini has to be watertight. In the Seychelles, you’ll be surrounded by sunscreen and bikinis, but you must remain focused on the job. Remember, you are not on vacation.”