Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei
August 25
Rather than take a taxi to London City Airport, the management of the Ritz insisted that Peter and Robert use the hotel’s chauffeured limousine. With no security screening lines to deal with, they simply walked onto the tarmac and climbed the stairs to board the Airbus.
Shortly after takeoff, the attendant served a light snack, including a bowl of water and a plate of diced chicken, peas, and rice for Diesel. The red pit bull consumed the food as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. “The Captain has informed me,” the attendant said, “that we will be cruising at 35,000 feet on a course to Dubai. We will land there to refuel before completing the final leg of the journey. Would you care for wine or a cocktail?”
Peter and Robert both declined.
“It’s going to be a long flight,” Robert said, his first words since boarding. “I suggest we both try to get some rest. I’m gonna try a bed in one of the guest rooms. You should do the same.”
Peter nodded, but did not rise from his seat on the leather sofa. Headline news was playing on the flat screen, but he wasn’t paying much attention. Although he felt fatigued, his mind wouldn’t shut down. He kept replaying the events of the previous evening—the attack and struggle, and finally the kidnapping of Jade. If only I’d had a weapon, something more than a steak knife.
He leaned back, allowing the soft-padded leather to embrace his still-aching body. Eventually, he closed his eyes, wondering why Eu-meh had insisted on a face-to-face meeting that required him to travel halfway around the world. What did she know? And why was she convinced the abduction was not motivated by greed? As his mind drifted into a semiconscious state, his thoughts returned to Jade. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they were sharing stories over dinner. He recalled in vivid detail her genuine smile, bright laughter, and cheerful eyes. And then images of the kidnapping played on a loop through his mind, tormenting him with a repeating nightmare.
Consumed in his thoughts and guilt, the hours ticked by too slowly. Finally, after a brief stop in Dubai followed by two light meals separated by short, restless naps, the flight attendant announced they were about to land and instructed his passengers to fasten their seat belts. Diesel hopped onto the seat next to Peter.
When the aircraft came to a stop and the engines shut down, Peter stepped through the open cabin door and descended the stairs to the tarmac. His first sensation was a blast of hot, humid air. Within thirty seconds, beads of sweat dappled his forehead. “I’ve been in hot weather before, but this is something else,” he said.
Robert smiled. “Eight-five percent humidity and ninety degrees. Unless you’re born here, I doubt a person ever gets used to it.”
A middle-aged Malaysian, skinny and about five foot six, was hustling to catch up with their luggage stacked haphazardly on a small trolley. Mercifully, they didn’t have far to walk in the oppressive heat; the waiting limousine was parked in the shade of a nearby hangar.
“Another Rolls. Should’ve guessed,” Peter said in mock surprise.
“Well, think what you will of the Sultan, but brand loyalty is not one of his shortcomings.”
The driver held the door open and Robert folded his bulk into the rear compartment while Peter walked to the opposite side, causing the driver to dash around the front of the car. He reached his hand to open the door just as Peter was about to grab the handle.
“Oh, sorry,” Peter said to ease the man’s worried expression.
“Always let the driver open the door for you,” Robert advised, his voice low.
“So I gather.”
Panting, Diesel jumped in and positioned his body directly in the cool air streaming from a central air vent located near the floor.
As they rode through city traffic, Peter lost count of the number of luxury automobiles he saw—Mercedes, Jaguar, BMW, Audi, and top-of-the-line limousines from Germany and the U.K. It was not long before they stopped in front of a glass-encased modern structure on the bank of the Brunei River.
Robert led the way—clearly he’d been here before. In the lobby, a sign directly opposite the entrance indicated the building’s occupant, Hua Ho Holdings. The floor and walls were surfaced in light-tan marble, and recessed lighting in the high ceiling supplemented the natural light flooding in through the front glass wall.
They signed in at the reception desk and then passed a uniformed guard to enter the glistening chrome elevator. The guard inserted a key in the panel, turned it, and then pressed the top button—tenth floor.
“Looks like we are expected,” Peter said.
Robert nodded. “Mrs. Lim is a very important executive within the company, plus a member of the royal family. Her security is taken seriously.”
The elevator opened onto another reception room. They signed in at the desk and then were led through a frosted glass wall into a large office. Peter tried to take it all in, discretely of course, but he was having to turn his head far to one side and then the other, and he still wasn’t capturing the entire office. He estimated the area to be at least 3,000 square feet.
“Welcome to Brunei,” a feminine voice called from across the office, drawing Peter’s attention.
An attractive woman with a slim figure rose from behind a massive desk. Her shoulder-length black hair showed just a hint of copper highlights. She approached with her hand outstretched, cloaked in a long, high-collared dress that extended to her ankles. Even her arms were covered to the wrists. The fabric shimmered like silk and was adorned with an intricate floral pattern. A long string of perfect white pearls was wrapped in a double loop around her neck. She shook first Peter’s hand and then Robert’s. If Peter hadn’t already known she was Jade’s mother, he would have guessed her age to be late-thirties.
“Thank you, Robert, for coming quickly. You must be exhausted, but I need you here. I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” he replied with a slight bow of his head.
She faced Peter. “My name is Lim Eu-meh. But please, call me Eu-meh. Formalities should be reserved for state functions. And this must be Diesel. Jade spoke at length about how your dog saved you from a vicious bear.” She lowered her hand and patted the dog on the head.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Eu-meh. Your daughter has told me much about you.” She looked deeply into Peter’s eyes, and at that moment he felt as if she might read his thoughts. “I’m very sorry about what happened.”
“My daughter told me you are a nice man, a good man. She calls you her guardian. You saved her from harm in Oregon, is that right?”
Peter nodded.
“And Robert tells me you fought the kidnappers in London, placing yourself at great risk.”
Eu-meh turned her head to Robert, noticing the bruise on his forehead. She added, “You both did.”
She motioned to a grouping of plush chairs arranged around a small table. As Robert and Peter were seated, Eu-meh opened her office door and issued quick instructions in Malay, then sat opposite her guests.
“I’ve read the preliminary report from the London police.” She read the confusion in Peter’s face. “The government of Brunei shares a close cooperation with the United Kingdom—one of the advantages, I suppose, of being a former British colony.” Eu-meh paused while a woman dressed conservatively and wearing a Hijab placed a silver tray on the table. She poured coffee from a silver carafe into porcelain cups decorated with gold filigree, and then silently departed the office.
“Of course, the report included both your statements. Those men had guns—they could have killed both of you.”
“We’ll find Miss Jade,” Robert said, “and bring her home.”
Eu-meh’s eyes glistened with moisture, but she refused to allow tears to fall. “Robert, you have been a loyal employee for so many years. You have watched over my daughter since she was a young girl. I have no doubt you speak with sincerity. But you do not fully understand who we are dealing with.”
“Excuse me,” Peter cleared his throat. “You sound as if you know who kidnapped your daughter. If you’ll forgive me, why not just go to the police with your information?”
She looked hard at Peter, worry shadowing her features. “Do you know what it feels like to lose someone you love more than life itself?”
Peter felt his emotions stirring, old and painful memories resurrected again by her directness. Memories of a shootout with Janjaweed rebels in Darfur to rescue his son, Ethan. Memories of his wife dying on a hospital bed following a winter automobile accident. Vivid images, sounds, scents—all still real and far from forgotten. He quelled his feelings before replying. “I’ve suffered the loss of a loved one.” He worked his jaw, choosing his words carefully. “And I know that sometimes the best we can do is not sufficient. I didn’t always think that way. At one time, I believed that anything was possible; that I could protect those I held most dear, shield them from harm.” He shook his head, and held Eu-meh’s eyes. “But it’s not true.”
“Your wife.”
Peter’s eyes widened and his lips moved to voice the question, but she cut him off. “Jade told me,” she explained. “My daughter is a good judge of character. She told me much about you. Many men would have tried to take advantage of a young, rich woman, but you didn’t.”
“My daughter is about the same age as Jade.”
Eu-meh nodded. “Then I know you understand. Your paternal instinct is strong, and I’m asking for your help.”
“And I will do all I can, but I still think this is best handled by the police. If you know who abducted—”
“What I know to be true, and what I can prove, are two entirely different matters.”
“I see.”
“But to be clear Mr. Savage—”
“Please, call me Peter.”
Eu-meh smiled politely. “Peter. The night my daughter was kidnapped, I spoke over the phone to Robert. I told him that I know why Jade was taken.”
“That’s a good start. If we know why, then maybe we can figure out who is behind it.”
“Please, go on,” Robert said.
She rubbed the pearls between her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “Do you understand, Mr. Savage—Peter—what my job is with Hua Ho Holdings?”
“Jade mentioned you’re in charge of logistics for the company. Beyond that, I really don’t know.”
“That is partly true. You see, I am the chairperson of the company. Rather unusual for a woman, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“One of the benefits of being the sister to the Sultan.” She lifted the porcelain cup by the handle to her lips.
“In any case,” Eu-meh continued, “I oversee the activities of Hua Ho Holdings. One of my responsibilities is to see that the company’s long-term strategy is executed. I have many executives who report to me, including logistics. Naturally, I receive regular reports of where our ships are deployed, what maintenance and upgrades are being carried out, and so on. I’m sure you understand.”
“The company is engaged in off-shore oil exploration,” Robert added.
“That’s right. Revenue from oil and gas production has made my country quite wealthy, allowing the citizens of Brunei to enjoy a very comfortable standard of living. In fact, per capita income is relatively high by any measure, and combined with free health care and subsidized food and housing, Bruneians have long life expectancy and are well educated.”
“Not to mention many have excellent taste in automobiles,” Peter quipped.
“We have a fleet of seventeen ships. Nine are purposed for exploration, including drilling test wells. The other eight are supply ships.”
“You mean they transport cargo?”
“Yes. Not only to support the exploration vessels, but they also ferry equipment and other materials and supplies to off-shore wells. It is a lucrative business, although not as glamorous as exploration.
“The South China Sea is rich in oil and gas. My company generates steady revenue, and as long as expenses are managed, the profit margin is attractive and predictable.”
“Has a ransom demand been delivered yet?” Peter asked.
“No, and I am certain there will be no ransom demand. As I explained to Robert already, Jade was not kidnapped for money.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Three months ago, I noticed an anomaly in our maintenance records. One of our exploration ships, the Royal Seeker, was in dry dock being fitted with new engines and props.”
“Go on,” Peter said.
“I did not recall authorization for such expensive upgrades. That should have come from the Board of Directors. So, I inquired with the engineering manager. He checked his records, and said that I must be mistaken; the Royal Seeker was scheduled for a routine overhaul of its engines, not replacement.”
Peter sipped the strong coffee and then placed the cup on the table. “Perhaps the engines were too old and damaged, and replacing them was the most cost-effective solution? Maybe the propellers were also worn and in need of replacement?”
“Yes, I had the same thought. But the engineering department would have had a record of that.”
“And no such record exists,” Peter said.
“No.”
“Have you spoken with the vessel’s captain?” Robert asked.
Eu-meh nodded. “He denies that these upgrades were done and claims that his ship was in port for routine maintenance only, before putting to sea again.”
“Are you certain this isn’t a simple case of fraud?” Peter said.
“I am not naïve. Naturally, that thought has occurred to me as well. I have instructed one of my trusted accountants to look into this—discretely, of course. So far, the question remains unresolved.”
“I don’t see the connection with your daughter’s kidnapping.”
“Hua Ho Holdings equips all of its ships with locating beacons. The device is similar to those on commercial aircraft. It sends a signal that is relayed by satellite, indicating the location of the ship. This way, we track our vessels all the time. You see, the South China Sea is still dangerous, and piracy is a very real threat.
“I requested the log record for the Royal Seeker from the date it left dry dock until a week ago. The log indicated everything was normal and showed the ship followed its scheduled route. Except it didn’t.”
“How can you be certain?” Peter asked.
“According to the tracking log, one week ago the Royal Seeker was within helicopter range. I had my pilot fly me to the location where the ship was supposed to be—”
“Only it wasn’t there.”
“You are perceptive, Peter. The Royal Seeker was not anywhere within sight of the location indicated by the tracking log.”
“Where is the ship?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know. But late that night, a message was delivered to my apartment.” Eu-meh walked to her desk and retrieved a slip of paper. She presented it to Robert. He read it and then passed it to Peter.
The note was printed on common paper and consisted of only two sentences. It was not dated or signed. There were no identifying markings at all—it could have been printed by anyone. Peter frowned, and handed it back to Eu-meh.
“Now, do you see? If I do not stop my investigation and remain silent, they will kill my daughter.”