by Sofia Grey
Alex switched his phone on as the plane taxied toward the concourse, and it beeped immediately. He sat right across the aisle from Daisy, and she saw his expression darken when he read it.
“It’s from Lou,” he said to Sylvie. He showed her the text, and she made a frustrated noise. “Daisy,” he said, “I’m sorry, but you need to read this too.”
What now? She took the phone and read the message.
Hi Alex. I’m at the airport to meet you all—along with a huge group of reporters!!! They have some pics of Charlie in a threesome? Some breaking news about the mayor’s daughters. Do you know about it? Watch out! I’ll waiting in Arrivals. Lou x
Alex tapped Charlie on the shoulder and handed over the phone. Charlie blanched when he read the text.
“You fucking arsehole.” Alex spoke slowly, grinding out the words. “Because of your colossal ego, we’ve got to face a pack of vultures, with Callum. You know I try to keep him out of the media.”
“Aww, man...” Charlie looked genuinely dismayed. “I’ll go through first, see if I can distract them. Fuck knows who tipped them off.”
“I don’t care. But if one picture of Cal ends up in the papers, I’ll break both your legs. Believe me, Charlie, you don’t want this to happen.”
Sylvie leaned across next. “Actually, Charlie, it’s me you have to be scared of. I’m capable of kicking your arse from here to Timbuctoo, as Alex will confirm. You go first, then Alex, and take Daisy with you. I’ll follow with Cal and try to slip past them. I need the loo when we land, so I’ll head straight for the bathrooms and meet you by the exit.”
Daisy heard the words and nodded when her name was mentioned, but her brain had gotten fixated on the message from Louisa. There were reporters waiting for Charlie. They knew about his antics at the stadium. Did they know how humiliated she was?
It was bad enough, having to see him with two naked chicks this afternoon. Now she had to walk past a bunch of reporters who wanted to talk about it.
Worst. Day. Ever.
*
Juli and the others spent the day working through the intricacies of the Byzantium design. If they ever got out, Nick and Jordan would know almost as much about it as she did. Although Yanni flitted in and out, they were never left completely alone. However, the guard stayed some distance from them, and they had the chance to talk covertly, in small bursts.
“I have to ask. What the hell’s going on with you and Yanni? What are you doing, Juli?” Jordan looked distinctly worried.
She took a deep breath. “I’m trying to get him to trust me. I’m flirting a little bit.” Her cheeks burned with shame.
“Jesus,” muttered Nick. “Don’t tell me you actually—”
“No. I’m terrified. I don’t know how long I can keep it up.” She shuffled some papers around and waited until she felt calmer before continuing. “I’m going to hit him over the head tonight, when he’s not expecting it. I’ll tie him up, and then make a run for it. I think I saw a key-safe upstairs. I’ll let you both out, we’ll take a car, and escape.”
Matching expressions of disbelief stared at her.
“What? Have you got a better plan?”
Jordan blew out a breath. “Maybe Jack has a plan?”
“Jack?” She had to pause. Rein in her fear and fury. “Are you crazy? You saw what he did,”
“I know Jack. It might not have been how it looked.” Jordan shrugged.
Juli thought back to that horrible moment when Jean-Luc collapsed in a bloody heap at her feet. Tears sprang to her eyes. “You saw him, as well as I did. He hit Jean-Luc with the gun. Then he shot him. I don’t know how you can even think of trusting him.”
The words died in her throat. Dear God. What did Yanni say about not trusting Jordan? That he was trying to set her up? Why would Jordan sell TM-Tech secrets? Could this be a way to get back at his father? Jordan worked for Thaddeus Merrill, and they had a terrible relationship. Everyone knew that.
That triggered another string of thoughts. Someone—she couldn’t remember who—said Jack worked for Jordan previously. So did Tanner. Yanni told her Jordan employed mercenaries, and she knew they were both ex-Marines.
No. This was circumstantial evidence, at best. Jumping to conclusions was not productive.
Nick looked at Jordan, then back at her. “As plans go, I’m sorry, Juli, but this one sucks. I’m with Jordan. Don’t do it, please. It’s way too dangerous.”
So was trusting Jack. She’d rather take her chances, getting away from Yanni.
She stared down at the desk. She was truly on her own now.
*
Charlie needed a drink, something to blot out the shitty day he was having, but if Louisa was to be believed, there was a swarm of journos to get through first.
He explained to the flight attendant that there was an unexpected reception awaiting them, and he’d like to disembark ahead of the other passengers. He braced himself for the rabble.
Did he expect it to be bad?
He didn’t expect it to be this bad.
The journos addressed him on all sides, flashes in his face, microphones under his nose, and a TV crew watching every move. Most of them brandished a series of photos of Charlie with the two blondes from the stadium. Did he know they were the daughters of the Mayor of Christchurch? They were big fish in a tiny pond, and thus, quite newsworthy.
As soon as Daisy appeared with AJ, the journos went crazy again. They had pictures of Daisy too, when she’d interrupted him. The press wanted to know if she was his girlfriend, and they mobbed her as well.
Mick was staying with friends in Christchurch and was the only one to escape the madness. Charlie wished he could have too.
Daisy walked tall, stuck her chin out with a touch of defiance, and replied sharply. “Charlie doesn’t have a girlfriend. He prefers to hang out with groupies.”
Yeah. Nice one, Daisy.
He winced at her words, and they couldn’t miss seeing it. He waited for someone to mention the drugs they’d shared, but the girls appeared to have enough sense to keep this quiet. Thank fuck for small mercies.
He was almost through the mob, when someone asked if he’d been having a three-way with the girls or if he’d been waiting for AJ to join them.
Up to this point, AJ had been pushing through the crowd, doing his best to ignore them. Charlie prayed to the god of shit days that he carried on and didn’t respond.
His prayers were going unanswered today.
“What did you say?” AJ turned and loomed over the kid that had asked that particular question.
The journo grinned. “I wanted to know if you and Charlie shared the girls this afternoon—”
“I’m happily married, you fuckwit. What Charlie does in the privacy of his dressing room is no business of mine or yours.” AJ roared at the hapless journo. “If you ever—and I mean ever—suggest I would take part in anything like that, or print anything that even hints at that, I’ll sue your stinking ass from now until Christmas next year. Got it?”
The kid stood his ground. Charlie managed to push a little further on. He heard the journo challenging AJ with another dumb question, and then AJ erupted. A bad situation turned to a clusterfuck in a matter of seconds.
Charlie looked over his shoulder. AJ grabbed the guy’s recorder and smashed it on the floor, then stamped it underfoot. A scuffle started, and AJ took a swing at someone. This was un-fucking-believable. And it was all Charlie’s stupid fault. If anyone was the fuckwit, it was him.
Daisy shoved past him, tears rolling down her face. That hurt more than if she’d been angry.
He had to stop AJ from making things even worse.
Charlie yanked AJ’s arm seconds before his friend punched a journo in the face. “AJ. Leave it,” he yelled over the noise.
The cameras were all poised and ready to capture the moment for posterity.
A stranger joined them and grabbed AJ’s other arm, and together they wrestled him back a few steps.
The journos would be baying for blood in a minute. “AJ. Come on.” He snapped his fingers in front of his friend’s face. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. We need to leave it clear for Sylvie to come through.”
Talking of Sylvie, where was she?
*
Jack slept for a few hours, before joining Scarab for a patrol of the compound perimeter. After checking all the approaches and confirming the area clear, they returned for dinner. Tish asked him to deliver a tray to the lab, and he readily agreed. He needed to warn the hostages of the plans for tonight.
Jordan and Nick were in there, with a bored-looking guard who looked longingly at the tray of food.
“Do you want to go eat?” Jack asked him. “I can wait here for you.”
“Thanks.”
As the man left, Jack placed the tray onto a clear space. There were papers everywhere—diagrams and what looked like blueprints. Jordan and Nick were silent. Where was Juli?
Knowing Yanni, there would be cameras in here, and Jack didn’t want to raise any suspicions. He pretended to bump into the tray and knock a dish of chopped fruit onto the floor.
“Damn.” He grabbed a handful of paper napkins and crouched, ready to clean up the mess. He spoke rapidly in a whisper to the two men.
“Where’s Yanni? And where’s Juli?”
Jordan rolled his chair closer, took a bottle of water from the tray. “Juli’s having dinner upstairs with him. She has some crazy idea about hitting him over the head and making a run for it.”
Fuck. That sounded like something she’d do. It was way too risky. He had to stop her. She needed to sit tight and wait for the cavalry to arrive, only she didn’t know that. How could he warn her?
Jordan glanced sideways at him. “Do you have a plan, Jack?”
“Yep. Tanner’s organising a squad to come and get you tonight, sometime after midnight. Stay awake and alert, and be ready to move as soon as you get the signal. Tell Juli, if you get the chance.”
Jack finished clearing the spilled food, before moving to the chair by the door. Jordan and Nick picked at the food while he stared into space. What the hell was Juli thinking of? She was going to get herself killed.
*
Charlie and AJ finally made it to the exit and met up with Louisa. “Where are Sylvie and Callum?” she asked.
“They’re following us,” said AJ. He scowled at Charlie. “We tried to draw the journos away, so she could bring Cal through without getting nailed.”
Where was Daisy? He looked past Louisa and saw her climbing into the limo. Now they just needed Sylvie and Callum, and then they could escape.
“She’s taking a while,” said Louisa. “Maybe I should go find her.”
AJ cast another fierce glare in Charlie’s direction. “She was going to the bathroom first. She might be waiting for the pack to disperse. Let’s get in the car and out of sight of these piranhas.”
Daisy sat in the front, next to the driver. She refused to look at Charlie. No wonder. He’d wanted to make her see what he was really like, but the reality of how upset she was dug at him.
Lou chattered away. He didn’t pay much attention.
“You’re not listening,” she accused with a tiny smile. “Either of you.”
AJ scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry, Lou. Is there any news?”
“No. I would have told you.”
“My security team are good, and they’re working with government agents. If anyone can get Jordan and the others back, they can.”
AJ tapped the seat in a jerky rhythm, his gaze scanning through the windows. “C’mon, Syl,” he muttered.
Lou spoke up again. “If I didn’t know Marianne was thousands of miles away, I’d swear I saw her today.”
“She’s still in Houston?” AJ asked.
“Yes. Marcus talked to her earlier.”
Lou’s words filtered into Charlie’s brain. “You thought you saw Marianne? Here?”
“Someone the dead image of her.”
Joni had long, straight blonde hair, while Marianne had a dark pixie crop, but their features were similar. With a change of hairstyle, they’d look alike.
Fuck. Fear chilled Charlie to the bones. He scrambled out of the car and searched the crowds for Sylvie. There was no sign of her.
AJ joined him. “Are you thinking what I am?”
“That she saw Joni?”
The car door was open. While AJ continued to look for Sylvie, Charlie leaned in and spoke urgently to Louisa. “What did she look like? And where did you see her?” Fuck. He’d bet nobody had told Louisa about Joni’s threatening messages.
Louisa looked puzzled. “Umm... five minutes ago? She walked out of the main exit with a cute little girl.”
Daisy turned around in her seat, and AJ rejoined them. “A little girl?” Fear flashed across his face. “What did the girl look like? I mean, how do you know it was a girl?”
“Umm, dark curly hair. A toddler. She wore a pink T-shirt with kittens on it.”
Cal had been wearing an orange shirt with diggers on it, but if you wanted to disguise a small child—one that didn’t speak much yet—changing clothes would be a simple way.
“Oh my God. You think it’s her, don’t you?” Daisy’s eyes were wide. She looked terrified.
AJ ran his hands over his face. “It’s probably not. But... Fuck it. Let’s be sure. Lou, you and Daisy go search all the toilets. Charlie, we’ll check the main concourse.”
Charlie hoped he was wrong. He’d pray he was wrong, but any prayers of his were going unheeded.
AJ had reassured Sylvie she was in no danger from Joni, but Charlie wasn’t so sure. If his stupidity meant Joni had access to Callum, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
*
Daisy and Louisa split up to check the different bathrooms.
Daisy headed for the ones nearest to Arrivals. She stuck her head around the door and scanned the small room. Three cubicles, one door shut. No sign of Sylvie or Callum.
Something caught her eye. A scrap of brightly coloured fabric on the floor next to the hand basins looked familiar. At the same time as her brain said it can’t be, she knew what it was—Callum’s T-shirt. The orange shirt with yellow diggers on it. The shirt he was wearing half an hour ago. She scooped it from the floor. It was wet.
Was Sylvie in the cubicle with him? Changing his clothes? “Sylvie,” she called.
There was no reply.
If Sylvie had been in here, she might have dropped his shirt. There could still be a rational explanation. Daisy raised her voice and made it sound bossy. “Who’s in that end cubicle? I need to speak to you urgently.”
Still no response.
There was only one thing to do. Daisy crouched and peered under the door. Jesus Christ. Sylvie was sprawled on the floor. Panic beating like wings flapping in her chest, Daisy pushed at the door, and it swung open. Sylvie lay on her side, hands behind her back, an ugly bruise on her forehead and a trickle of blood down her face.
Oh no. No. No. No.
“Sylvie? Oh my God. Sylvie.” Daisy’d done first-aid training, and she knew logically what to do, but she was still afraid. Sylvie was pale. Too pale.
With trembling fingers, Daisy reached for the pulse in Sylvie’s neck. “Please be there,” she whispered to herself. And there it was. A steady thub-thub under her fingertips. “Sylvie,” she said again. “Wake up.”
She brought out her phone and called Alex. He answered immediately.
“I’ve found her. She’s hurt.” She had to stop, to take a breath and force the giant knot of panic from her lungs.
“Where are you?” Alex shouted down the line.
“The bathroom nearest the Gate. I don’t know the number for the ambulance.” Her words ran together. “Is it nine-nine-nine? The same as at home?”
“Fuck knows. Try it. And nine-one-on
e. I’ll be there in one minute.” The line cut out, but not before she heard the pounding of his feet.
She redialled, using nine-nine-nine, the emergency number in the UK. An automated message told her to redial, using one-one-one, and she did so. By that time, Alex was here, on his knees beside Sylvie.
He made a choked sound. “Her hands are tied.”
Daisy connected to the emergency operator and stammered out the reason for the call. She needed an ambulance and the police. Right away.
“Is she unconscious?” The operator asked.
“Yes, but she’s breathing.”
Sylvie groaned, opening her eyes.
“She’s just woken. Her head’s bleeding. And she’s pregnant. We still need the ambulance. And the police. A child is missing.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Charlie took the terse call from AJ. “Bathroom by the Gate.” He wasn’t far away, and he ran there, to arrive at the same time as Louisa.
Sylvie sat on the floor, leaning against AJ. Blood trickled down her cheek, and her eyes were unfocused. “She took Cal,” she said. “He’s gone. I couldn’t stop her.”
AJ held a bundle of wet paper towels to her head. “It’s not your fault. What happened, babe?”
No, this was Charlie’s fault. Every last stinking part of it.
“There was a woman on the plane. Lent me her scarf, to disguise me from the press. Looked familiar.” She halted, tears welling in her eyes. “She tripped and spilled water over Cal, so she came in here with me. She had a pink T-shirt in her bag. And I wondered why. And then she hit me over the head with something. I was on the floor. I saw her changing Cal’s shirt before I blacked out. She’s got Cal, Alex. She’s got our little boy.”
Her sobs shredded Charlie’s insides. He wanted to punch something. Hard. He felt sick to the stomach at the string of events he’d put in motion. Sylvie, bleeding and broken hearted. Callum gone.
He’d beat himself up later, but right now he needed to do something. Anything.
“I promise you, Sylvie,” he said, his voice stilted, “I’ll find Cal. I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for this.” He turned to Louisa. “If that was Joni, you were the last person to see her. It was only minutes ago. We need to get the concourse locked down.”
