by Sofia Grey
I wish things could have been different. But it’s best that you finally know the truth.
Rodney
Rodney didn’t hate Charlie, he hated Charlie’s mum and what she did.
When Charlie became best friend with AJ, it must have been like a knife slowly twisting in Rodney’s gut. Christ. Was it any wonder Rodney behaved like he did?
Charlie had a month to contact his solicitor, to stop this from going public. Thank fuck he read the letter. Imagine this being spread across the tabloids? The thought made him want to hurl.
Was Rodney right about Mum continuing her affair with Trevor Hamilton? Charlie could never ask about that. He didn’t know if he wanted to see her again.
His whole life had been a lie. Everything he knew and believed in had been fake.
His best friend was also his half-brother, and their shared father was a lying, deceitful bastard.
What about Rodney’s assertion that Charlie had figured out how women couldn’t be trusted? Did he pick that up as a fundamental truth? How had it shaped his outlook on life?
He’d told Daisy that he’d turn into his father and it wouldn’t be good. Whichever way Charlie looked at it, Rodney and Trevor sucked as parents. If they were his role models, his glib words to Daisy were truer than he’d thought.
*
The rendezvous point was sent in a text to Jack. Frank Kitts Park, near the Yellow Bus Noodle stall. Jack checked the map for the park. It was only a ten-minute walk from his current location.
“He’s at the night noodle market,” said one of the Kiwi agents. “There are over forty food trucks set up in Frank Kitts Park. Surveillance will be impossible.”
“Night noodle market?” Jack queried.
“Yeah. It’s an Asian food festival. Very popular. The whole waterfront area is heaving up with people.”
“Great.”
“We’ll still have eyes on you,” said Aiden. “We’ll do our best to trail you.”
It was time to go. He slung his bag over his shoulder and set out for the popular waterfront area, always a magnet for people seeking Wellington’s night life. Some distance behind, Aiden, Tanner, and Casey’s team would be watching over him.
It was ten minutes until the meet, and more crowded than he expected. Jack cursed under his breath. Even Tanner would struggle to follow him. Yanni had picked a good spot.
The market area bustled with people. A mini stone amphitheatre featured a jazz band in the centre, with beer tents around the edge. It was a warm night, and it felt akin to a street party, with all the trailing fairy lights. Did Juli like Asian food? Would this be somewhere she’d like to visit? He wrenched his mind back, stepped forward, and searched for a yellow bus. Vendors shouted their offerings. Slow-roast brisket burgers. Fried noodles. Malaysian curry. The smell of food teased his nostrils.
He sidestepped around a young couple, arm-in-arm, and checked his watch. Two minutes to go, and nothing that looked like a bus, let alone a yellow one. He quickened his pace, flashing his gaze left and right. The market was a sprawling affair, and with more stalls than he could check in the time allowed.
Fuck. Where was it?
Jack paused and spun around in a slow circle, searching the area. A man approached, wearing a yellow hi-viz vest and wheeling a garbage can.
“Hey,” said Jack. “Where can I find the Yellow Bus?”
“Up there, bro.” The cleaner pointed up a shallow rise, and Jack saw it—a converted ambulance with a fluorescent stripe painted along the side.
“Thanks.” Jack was already hurrying through the gathered people.
A line formed at the serving hatch, and a server called out food as it was prepared. Jack joined the queue and pretended to study the menu, but in reality he was checking for Yanni.
“Loaded fries are good here,” said a voice behind him. Yanni. Jack recognised the almost-Italian drawl. At the same time, something cold and hard dug into his kidneys.
Jack froze. “John Calder, I presume,” he said.
Yanni chuckled. “Correct. So tell me, Serenity—what are you doing here?”
“I have information for you, and something else. The word on the street is that your supply line is unsecure. Andrew Grant was selling you out to the highest bidder.”
“Any proof?” Yanni stood by his side, a plastic tray of fried noodles in one hand, his other free.
It was someone standing behind Jack who had a weapon pressed against him. In the darkness, nobody would notice. He was fairly safe, though. Nobody would be stupid enough to use a firearm here.
Jack held up his hands. “Back left pocket is your consignment. Also copies of printed emails.”
Someone tugged the iPod from his pocket, along with the printouts, and handed them to Yanni, who gave them a cursory glance. The pressure against Jack’s kidneys disappeared, and he let out a relieved breath.
“Let me guess,” said Yanni. “You’re available to hire.”
“For a couple weeks. What do you need?”
“I may have an opening. I need to check some details first, though. Come with me.” Yanni turned and headed up the incline, and Jack followed, flanked by two men.
Now where? If Yanni had a vehicle nearby, Tanner and the others might be able to tail it, assuming they saw them leave. This was the most crowded section of the market.
They started down a slope, and then a set of concrete steps, with Jack paying attention to their location. There were car parks all around. He couldn’t see any of the Kiwi agents, but that didn’t mean he was alone.
Instead of heading toward the streets and parking areas, Yanni turned left, toward the water, and a dozen little boats moored along the edge of a small lagoon. There were night-time pleasure trips around the harbour, and as Jack followed Yanni onto one of the crafts, two others set off ahead of them.
They were off, cruising across the harbour, where Yanni no doubt had a vehicle waiting on the other side.
There was no way Jack’s team would be able to follow.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack’s guess was right. Yanni’s boat cut across the harbour to a waiting SUV, parked next to a dark-coloured panel van. While Jack watched, Yanni hooked up the iPod to a laptop, and then ran some software, much as Aiden had done.
Yanni closed the laptop lid with a click and then slid the iPod into his jacket pocket. He turned to face Jack, who leaned against the SUV with two of Yanni’s men. “I need to sweep you before we go any further. And give me your phone.”
Jack straightened, handed over the burner, and stood with his legs apart and arms wide, as one of Yanni’s guys ran a scanner over him. He kept his face calm, his expression bored.
“He’s clean,” said the guy.
Yanni nodded. “Okay. Let’s go. Serenity, you sit in the back with Merlot.”
Merlot was the guy with the hand scanner. In the low light, he looked stocky and strong, with short salt-and-pepper hair. Yanni drove, with another guy riding shotgun and two more men riding in the van.
Paraparaumu airport was probably an hour north of here, maybe less—assuming that was where they were going and Aiden had translated the image correctly.
They were silent in the SUV. Jack spent the time watching the sleepy towns and villages flashing by. Plimmerton was quiet when they drove through it. Juli would be in bed, asleep. Naked? Maybe. She was safe, and that was what mattered.
One day in the future he might see her again. Take her for dinner someplace good. Sweep her away for a weekend in a classy hotel. Fuck her six ways to Sunday. Yeah. That’d be good.
He checked his watch when they approached Paraparaumu. It was only one-thirty. There was still an hour to kill before the drop at the airport.
Yanni pulled onto a deserted beachfront car park, killed the engine, and twisted in his seat to face Jack. “We have some time,” he said. “Tell me again how you came to be here.”
Jack launched into his cover story, carefully crafted with the help of Aiden and Casey. How
he was in Wellington doing some security work and he saw Yanni at the conference. How he tapped a contact in the intelligence service, a woman he was sleeping with, and learned about Rashwan’s planned defection. From there, he went to Wellington Airport to intercept the courier, witnessed the guy’s death, and managed to steal his belongings in the confusion. His story was flimsy and wouldn’t hold up to detailed scrutiny, but he covered the main points, and it was plausible.
“You know me,” Jack finished, with a smirk. “I’m fucking good at what I do.”
Yanni chuckled. “Indeed. You can stay for the moment. I’m a man down, as you know.”
“Sounds good.” It was on the tip of Jack’s tongue to ask what the fuck Yanni was doing here and why he was sniffing around Juli, but he held onto his questions. Everything in good time. He couldn’t appear too curious. That could be fatal.
They lurked in the vehicles a little longer, and then set off in convoy to the airport. It was tiny. A single short runway, with a blink-and-you-miss-it passenger terminal and a control tower in darkness. As the headlights swept around, Jack saw several light aircrafts parked along the perimeter. This matched Aiden’s description of the charter and private flights.
With all the lights out, Yanni guided the SUV along the edge of the runway, to a taxiway, where he parked, the van by his side. The tension inside the vehicle was thick. The men all seemed on edge. Were they waiting for the drop?
Lights appeared in the sky, growing closer and lower, as a small light aircraft landed. It stopped short, paused for a few moments, and then continued up to the control tower and the lines of parked planes.
The SUV cruised to the end of the runway. “Serenity, you can help load up,” said Yanni.
Jack climbed out with the others, following their lead. Two wooden crates sat on the runway, jettisoned by the aircraft. He helped carry them into the van. Three minutes later, he scrambled back into the car, and they were on the move, leaving the airport by a side gate.
The mood lightened visibly. One of the men cracked a lewd joke about female pilots, and off they drove again, heading God knew where.
It wasn’t a stretch to believe they just picked up two crates of MANPADS. What Yanni intended to do with them remained to be seen.
They travelled north for a few miles, then turned east at the small town of Waikanae and headed up into the hills. Jack knew from studying maps of the Wellington area that there was little of note around here. A rough road led over the mountain to the Hutt Valley, another suburb north of the city, and several logging trails crossed paths with walking tracks. Habitation was limited, and the terrain was wild and covered with native bush. If Yanni had a base up here, it would be nigh on invisible.
And it was.
The SUV pulled off the track onto an even narrower path, through a set of gates, and over yet another cattle grid. They’d arrived. A faded and peeling sign on the gatepost advised of a meteorological research station and warned that trespassers would be prosecuted.
A number of small outbuildings surrounded a central complex. The vibe was dirty and rundown, but when Merlot led Jack to one of the small buildings, the locks on the door were new and expensive.
“You can wait here.” The guy ushered Jack inside, flicking on the lights as he did so.
It was a bunkhouse, neat and clean, with no signs of habitation. Things were looking up, if Yanni was comfortable enough to take him to his base.
Merlot snapped the locks and walked away, leaving Jack alone.
Okay. Yanni didn’t trust him that far.
*
It had taken all Juli’s focus to complete the keynote speech. She didn’t allow herself to think about Jack, until the day was over and she was back at Jordan’s house. The conference was going well, and her boss declared that they’d have a fun night. The guys were playing poker for small change out on the deck, while Kate and the other women watched movies on the home entertainment centre.
Juli really needed a decent night’s sleep, as there was an early start planned for Wednesday. It was the meeting with LindenCore. Jordan hoped to build a good business relationship with the company, and giving the right first impression was vital. LindenCore’s office was in Nelson, a small town at the top of the South Island, so they’d be taking a short flight there from Wellington Airport in the morning. Under normal circumstances, she’d be excited, but she was too confused about Jack.
Juli excused herself and went to her room. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jack. Would she see him again? Why did he have to leave? Why not Tanner instead?
WEDNESDAY 17 JANUARY
Chapter Eighteen
After another restless night, Juli made herself an extra-strong coffee before she set out with Jordan and Jean-Luc for the airport. They’d meet Nick there and travel to LindenCore as a group of four. The weather was beautiful, warm and dry, with only a light breeze. Jean-Luc assured her that flying conditions were excellent.
Come on, Juli, she scolded herself. She could moon over the guy that got away when she was home again, and not let it spoil the rest of her trip. If only it was that easy.
Nick Anderson was as bouncy and bright eyed as usual, and met them with a tray of coffee. “I heard about the poker last night. My wife, Lara, is spending the day with Sylvie and Kate, and they were quick to tell her.” He turned to Jean-Luc. “Don’t tell me you played too? How much did you lose?”
Jean-Luc shrugged, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “More than I expected. Your boss is lethal with a deck of cards.”
Jordan chuckled. “You’ll have to join us next time we play, Nick.”
“Hell, no. I’ll be taking out a second mortgage if I do.”
Juli stood on the edge of the conversation and gazed out of the windows at the runway. Wellington wasn’t a big airport, and there were a lot of small aircraft dotted around. “What are we flying on?” she asked, more to be included in the conversation than anything.
“That one.” Nick pointed to a tiny plane. “It’s a Cessna Caravan. Seats eight people. It’ll take us three quarters of an hour to get there, and we’ll have some amazing views of the Cook Straits from the air. I can’t wait.”
“How do you know that’s our plane?” She asked.
“Rather than taking a scheduled flight, LindenCore have sent their own plane. That’s why it has their logo on the tail.”
That made sense. “I’ve never flown on something so small.”
“It’ll be fun. It’s a completely different experience to a commercial jet.” Nick cocked his head to the side. “They just called us to the gate. Let’s go.”
Juli eyed the plane with trepidation. She much preferred an Airbus. Something with lots of seats, big wings, and more than one engine. She had a feeling this ride was going to be bumpy as soon as it got over the Straits. She climbed the steps and sat where the attendant indicated.
It was luxurious inside though, with four white leather seats on each side. It smelled clean and freshly polished, and Vivaldi played quietly through hidden speakers.
The others took their seats, they all buckled up, and while the engine started, the attendant—call me Blaydon—took them through the usual safety procedures. “LindenCore have a strict security regime in place for all visitors,” he added. “I must insist that you all switch off your cell phones and tablets, and place them in this secure box.” He held up a sturdy plastic case. “You will get them back at the end of the visit.”
It was an unusual request. Juli would have expected to leave her cell phone at the reception of their building, but maybe LindenCore were paranoid about leaks. Juli did as he asked, and the others all followed suit. Blaydon snapped the box shut, and then placed it in one of the overhead bins, before strapping himself in.
Jean-Luc sat behind her, with Jordan and Nick opposite, all at the back of the plane. Juli tried to summon the enthusiasm to enjoy the flight.
The take-off was smoother than she expected, and soon they were in the air, climbing high
into the blue sky. She stared out of the window and watched Wellington get smaller and further away. The plane banked gently, and then levelled out again, and she saw a broad stripe of water. The Straits—the fierce channel of sea that separated the North and South islands of New Zealand.
The engine hummed, the sun poured through the windows, and she yawned. How tempting it was to take a nap... Her eyelids were heavy, but she refused to succumb to sleep.
“Uh oh,” muttered Jean-Luc.
Tiredness forgotten, Juli was instantly alert. “What? Are we okay?”
“We’re losing height. We’re lower than I’d expect.”
She looked out of the window. It was hard to tell, but the sea looked much closer.
Moments later, Blaydon unbuckled his seat beat, and stood. “Please pay attention. We’re experiencing some minor problems and need to divert to an alternative airfield. On behalf of LindenCore, I’d like to apologise for the disruption to your schedule. We’ll get you to Nelson as soon as we can. Please stay buckled into your seats and wait for further information.”
Holy shit. The minute any flight attendant so much as whispered the word problem, Juli was on a countdown to freaking out. She gazed at the sea, her heart in her mouth. The engine didn’t sound any different. Soft chamber music still filtered into the cabin, and Blaydon looked calm. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.
They were still descending. The sea looked way too close for comfort. Please God. They weren’t going to crash into the water? Her pulse beating a relentless tattoo in her ears, Juli yanked her lap belt as tight as it would go and clung to the seat. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She needed to focus on something. In her head, she counted slowly to ten, and then twenty, and then started the count again.
Panic was a few breaths away when the plane banked. She opened her eyes. They were over land, then over water again. It took a moment before she realised they were flying low between two craggy hills, with the sea beneath them.
It was Queen Charlotte Sound. She recognised it from looking at the map in the airport. The cross-channel ferry sailed down here into Picton.
