‘Get down and stay down!’ the man barked a moment before there was a thump right next to her. Leia’s eyes sprang open, wrenching her from an unlikely sleep, and she jolted and shuffled back, even further into the corner.
She looked at the groaning lump next to her and her eyes widened. Even without seeing his face, without him saying a word, she knew who it was.
The sound of him breathing. His smell. Both so familiar and comforting.
‘Daddy!’
‘Leia?’
She clambered over to him. Sank down next to him as he lay in a heap on the floor, on his side. His wrists and ankles were zip-tied together. His head covered by a sack, like hers had been.
‘Daddy.’
She nestled into him and sobbed.
* * *
Dubai felt surreal to Devereaux. A fantasy land with no real soul. The image of a metropolis thought up by a thirteen-year-old, with skyscrapers in every direction, as far as the eye could see, some as tall as the sky itself, but most with no real purpose. There was no true center here, there was no warmth or feel that Devereaux could grasp. There was a lot of money though.
She sat in her rented BMW a hundred yards from the school gates. The Faisal Ahmed International School of Dubai. Devereaux had no idea who Faisal Ahmed was, or had been, but his school was clearly decent enough given the vast array of expensive cars that were here for the end-of-day pickup. Mostly big cars. Diesel-guzzling 4x4s, driven by the home help because Mommy and Daddy were too busy working or too busy not working.
Despite the obvious wealth of the families who could afford to send their children here, the school itself was a nondescript affair. A sprawling, three-story, sandy-colored stone structure that looked like it had one day simply risen up from the desert that surrounded this city. A far cry – and almost refreshingly so – from the usual glass-rich sleekness that dominated much of the inner city and felt so out of place.
Devereaux checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until home time. Her eyes flicked from her watch to her hand. Her still bandaged hand. Two days later and the stump where her finger had been sliced off remained painful and swollen and bloody, despite her best efforts to cauterize the wound with a glowing red spoon she’d heated on the gas stove in the bloodbath house in Cyprus.
At least there was no sign of infection yet. She’d re-dressed the wound every few hours to keep it clean, and she’d give it a few more days like this. If it wasn’t looking any better by then, she’d have to seek a doctor. A last resort, really, and she didn’t know any that she could trust in this part of the world from previous experience.
She pushed the thoughts away. She wouldn’t dwell on what had happened in Cyprus right now. Wouldn’t dwell on the man who’d called himself Kyri, who she’d been able to find so little about, but who reminded her so much of another man, from a long time ago. For now, she’d go along with his game. She liked games. She’d do what he’d asked.
Eventually, she’d figure out a way to play by her rules.
Another glance at her watch, then she pushed open her door and stepped out into the sunshine. Even in winter, the weather here was hot and sunny – at least it was hot to Devereaux – though she still had on a smart jacket. Not just to hide a holstered gun and a sheathed hunting knife, but to give her pockets to hide her bandaged hand. No point in inviting questions or arousing suspicions.
She headed up to the school gates where there was already a gathering of adults standing in wait – mostly carers, rather than parents. Mostly female, mostly from the Indian sub-continent or the Philippines. Many wore uniforms – simple cotton dresses that were blue or red or green – that showed their lowly status as general lackeys. There were a few men too, though they were quite different. Black suit trousers, white shirts, designer sunglasses in the main. Chauffeurs-cum-security guards, for the kids whose parents felt that was necessary.
She carefully looked around. No, he wasn’t here.
A few minutes later the caretaker came out of the front entrance, down the steps, across the path to the entrance. He unlocked the gates and the bell rang moments later. Teachers and their pupils emerged, though there was no mad rush. The kids waited patiently with their tutors at the steps until there was a nod and a wave and the little ones scurried over to their adults.
One by one the number of kids in wait dwindled. Car engines fired and the street slowly emptied. Devereaux spotted her. A tiny little thing. Five years old, in a red-and-white uniform dress. She was slight and skinny. A bag of bones and must have been as light as a feather. Her silky black hair reached down to her waist. The teacher had her hand on the girl’s shoulder and the two of them were searching. No luck, so the teacher moved on to the next child. Kept going until the girl was the only one remaining. Devereaux shimmied past the last few straggling adults and kids and headed over to the teacher.
‘Mrs Vallance, I’m so sorry, but Mahmoud got held up.’
The teacher looked at her with a hint of suspicion, but despite the protocols here this wasn’t Fort Knox, and as she looked around there was obviously no one else to pick little Tanya up. Why would she suspect anything untoward?
‘Sorry, I haven’t seen you here before. You are?’
‘I’m Leia. I’m pretty sure I was added to the list recently. You can call Mrs Wilkins to check if you like? I’m happy to wait.’ Devereaux checked her watch. ‘Though we’re quite late already.’
Next, she proffered her phone but the teacher shook her head then looked out across the entrance again where it was clear there was no one else for the little girl.
‘No, it’s fine,’ she said. ‘Off you go, Tanya.’
Devereaux smiled then held out her hand to the girl who seemed unsure but took it nonetheless.
‘Did you have a good day?’ Devereaux asked as they walked out through the gates and toward the BMW.
Tanya nodded. ‘I haven’t seen you before.’
‘I’m new here,’ Devereaux said.
‘Here?’
‘At the school.’
‘You’re a teacher? But I thought you said…’
The girl trailed off like she couldn’t quite remember.
‘I just started. I’ll be taking your class next term.’
‘Are you taking me home? Where’s Mahmoud?’
‘He’s running late, that’s all. You’ll see him at home.’
The child looked a little puzzled but didn’t question it anymore and was soon tucking into the hard candies Devereaux had brought with her. Were all kids this easy to confuse and manipulate? Or was it more that people were so unsuspecting of Devereaux’s bright and breezy appearance?
They reached the car. Devereaux looked over her shoulder. The teachers had all headed back inside. One or two adults remained chatting by the gates.
A gleaming black Mercedes raced down the street.
Devereaux sighed inwardly. Change of plan.
‘It looks like he made it after all,’ Devereaux said, tugging lightly on Tanya’s hand to pull her back toward the school.
Once again, the girl didn’t question her as she chomped away. They reached the gates just as the car screeched to a halt and a man jumped out of the driver’s seat. He took one look at Tanya and darted over, the expression on his face somewhere between worry and anger.
‘Tanya,’ he said, ‘I’m so sorry, I had a problem with the car.’
Devereaux would have asked ‘What problem?’, except she already knew.
Mahmoud took the girl’s hand and she edged into his side. They both looked at Devereaux.
‘Not to worry,’ Devereaux said. ‘I was just about to drop her back at home myself.’
He didn’t seem too pleased about that idea.
‘Oh, how rude of me,’ she said, before holding her hand out to him. ‘I’m Mrs Devereaux. I just started working here.’
‘She’s going to be my teacher.’
He didn’t look impressed but he took her hand anyway and she gave him a sultry smile as she gently held his hand.
‘I’m Mahmoud. I work for—’
‘I know. Tanya explained. It’s really nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be seeing a bit more of each other soon.’
He smiled back at her now. He’d read the signals just fine. And he was confident. She liked that.
‘I guess we will,’ he said.
She finally released his hand.
‘What was your name again?’ he asked.
‘Leia. Perhaps…’ She laughed coyly. ‘If I had your number, you could call me next time you’re going to be late.’
He seemed to weigh that one up for a moment. Devereaux took her phone out, only too happy to be eager. As she opened up the screen she discreetly took a photo of both Tanya and her chaperone.
‘We can do that,’ Mahmoud said. He read out his number. Devereaux typed it in and rang. His phone buzzed.
‘Just testing,’ she said with a cheeky chuckle.
He smiled again. She put her phone away.
‘It was nice to meet you, Leia,’ he said. ‘And thanks for helping with Tanya.’
‘My pleasure.’
He held her eye a moment longer before he turned and took Tanya back to his car. Seconds later they were in the Mercedes and driving away.
Devereaux moved back to her car.
Then set off after them.