30

“The white pickup truck you identified was a ringer,” said Charley.

“A ringer?” repeated Connor, holding up his phone so that both he and Ling could see Charley’s face on the screen. They huddled in a quiet area of the Seychelles International Airport while awaiting the arrival of Mr. Sterling’s private jet.

“A stolen vehicle, its license plates swapped with a set from a totaled car,” Charley explained. “There’s no way we can trace the truck.”

“What about the two muggers?” asked Ling.

“We had a bit more luck with them. Amir scoured security cameras from the local area and found a grainy shot of the two guys on Rollerblades. Using the Australian Criminal Intelligence Database, we’ve managed to identify the man with the tattoo as Todd Logan and his associate as Doug Carter.”

Two mug shots, one of a grizzled white man, the other of a bald black man, filled the screen.

“They’re both heavies-for-hire,” Charley’s voice continued in the background. “Linked to numerous criminal gangs, they have a list of convictions as long as their arms: robbery, drug dealing, extortion, arson and violent assault. You name it, they’ve probably done it. They were released only last month from prison. I guess they were desperate to earn a fast buck.”

Connor exchanged a stunned look with Ling. Both realized how lucky they’d been to get away so lightly in the attack.

“So where are the men now?” asked Ling.

Charley’s face reappeared on Connor’s phone.

“The Sydney police haven’t been able to track them down yet, but as soon as I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know. In the meantime, I’ll see what else I can dig up on them.”

“Thanks,” said Connor. “At least we’ve got decent ID shots of them now.”

“All part of the service,” said Amir, nudging into the frame beside Charley. “So how’s the weather out there?”

“Oh, rainy, cold and miserable,” sighed Ling, putting on her glummest expression.

“Really?” said Amir, his eyes widening in undisguised delight at the thought.

Connor couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not! It’s eighty degrees and glorious sunshine.”

Amir scowled. “Well, it’s the same here,” he said, “apart from the lack of sun and warmth. Anyway, I just wanted to check that my equipment is still functioning.”

Connor waggled the sunglasses on his head. “All looking good.”

Hearing his name being called, Connor glanced up to see Brad beckoning them to join him at the arrivals gate.

“Have to go,” Connor explained to Amir. “Mr. Sterling’s jet just landed.”

“Oh, it’s a hard life for some,” said Amir in a gently mocking tone. “Give us a shout if you need anything technical.”

“Stay sharp and stay safe,” added Charley, before ending the video call.

Connor slipped the phone into the pocket of his polo shirt, the flotation cover making it too bulky for his shorts, then followed Ling across to Brad.

“Okay, guys, let’s look professional,” Brad said, breaking into a wide grin. “Now the hard work really begins.”

Brad had already performed a security sweep of the airport terminal with their help and was satisfied that the location was secure. They watched through the window as the sleek Gulfstream jet taxied up to the private gate. After a minute or so, the aircraft’s doors opened and a stairway unfolded. Mr. Sterling emerged followed by a slender blond woman with long tanned legs in a daringly short dress and high heels. With the poise of a professional model, she gracefully descended the steps to the runway.

“Pick your jaw up!” hissed Ling, glowering sideways at Connor.

Connor hadn’t realized he was gawking. But he wasn’t alone in his admiration. As Amanda Ryder sashayed into the terminal building, every man’s head turned toward her. Rather than appear jealous, Mr. Sterling grinned from ear-to-ear, seeming to thrive on the attention his glamorous fiancée attracted.

As the couple approached, Mr. Sterling waved at his welcoming party. The tautness Connor had noticed in the man’s features while in Sydney had softened, as if he’d left the burden of his work behind, but the media mogul’s eyes still maintained their steely intensity.

“Good to see you both again,” he said, nodding at Connor and Ling. “Brad, everything in order?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Brad. “And may I welcome you to the Seychelles, Ms. Ryder.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied, her voice smooth as honey. She squeezed Mr. Sterling’s arm affectionately. “But I hope I won’t be using that name much longer.”

In response, Mr. Sterling smiled and kissed her warmly on the cheek.

A respectful distance behind the couple stood Mr. Sterling’s personal bodyguard, one of the few men in the terminal not to be admiring Ms. Ryder. Instead he focused on his new surroundings, offering a professional nod of courtesy to Brad in the process. Dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and chinos, he looked like any other tourist. And since he was wearing sunglasses, Connor couldn’t read his expression when he also gave a barely perceptible acknowledgment to him and Ling. Recalling his briefing notes, Connor knew the man’s name was Dan and that he’d been Mr. Sterling’s close-protection officer ever since the last one was fired after Emily’s kidnapping.

“And when will your daughters be joining us, sir?” Brad asked Mr. Sterling.

Just at that moment, the gate opened again and the girls entered, dressed in flowery summer tops and white shorts.

Brad gestured to Connor, who stepped forward to greet them. “Hi, Emily! Welcome to—”

“I’m Chloe,” said the sister he was addressing. She flicked back a lock of straw-blond hair to reveal her ear. “I have a mole on my right earlobe; Emily doesn’t, if that helps.”

“Sorry,” said Connor, unable to believe he’d made such a faux pas.

“So how was your flight?” asked Ling, swiftly moving on from Connor’s mistake as Mr. Sterling informed Brad of his plans for the vacation.

“Fine, although I never can sleep on planes,” replied Emily. She offered them both an awkward smile. “Look, I want to apologize for my behavior the first time we met.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” said Connor diplomatically.

“No, I was rude and ill-mannered.” She glanced in the direction of her father, who was being escorted by Brad toward the exit. Still she lowered her voice. “I was angry at my father, not you. But you proved your worth in Sydney. So I hope . . . we can make a fresh start.”

“Of course,” said Connor, shaking the hand she offered. “Forget it ever happened.”

“Thanks.” Emily tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. “Sorry, long trip.”

“Shall we make a move to the yacht, then?” he suggested. “You can rest and freshen up.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

Chloe was already skipping off toward the exit. “Absolutely. We’re missing out on valuable sunbathing time.”

Ling called after her Principal. “You’ve forgotten your bag,” she said, pointing to a small wheeled carry-on case.

Chloe barely glanced over her shoulder. “No, I think you’ve forgotten my bag.”

Ling frowned and shot Connor a questioning look. Their instructor Jody had taught them that a bodyguard always needed to keep their hands free so they could react quickly to a sudden threat. Carrying the bags or belongings of a Principal immediately limited a bodyguard’s response time.

Connor shrugged in response. Ling was left with little other choice than to do as she was told. By now Chloe was almost at the exit and would soon be out of sight. That was an even more risky situation for a bodyguard. Huffing to herself, Ling snatched the bag’s handle and hurried after her Principal.