Chapter 44
CHAPTER 44
THE PHONE RANG once, twice, then a crisp voice came through.
“Control room.”
I recognised Matt, one of the shift supervisors in our Richmond headquarters, although he sounded tired. Overtime or too much partying?
“Hi, it’s me. Is Nate or Nick there?”
“Nick’s not available, but Nate’s here. Who is this?”
“Come on, Matt. You’ve been working at Blackwood for, what, six years, and you don’t know what my sweet, dulcet tones sound like yet?”
“Emmy?”
Well, duh. “Who else?”
“B-b-but we all thought you were dead.”
“Do I sound dead to you? No. Anyway, when have I ever died before? That’s right. Never. Can you pass me over to Nate now?”
A few moments of silence passed before Nate came on the line. “Emmy, is that really you?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, not you as well. No, it’s a ghost. A ghost who’s learned how to use the telephone. Did Jed and Logan get out?”
“Jed’s here, but Logan’s on his way back to Syria.”
“Why’s he going there? Does he not think we stirred up enough of a hornet’s nest already?”
“He’s on his way to rescue you. And don’t worry, the hornets are well and truly furious. Congratulations.”
“Well, for goodness’ sake, call him back. And Nick, who I take it is with him? Why did you let Nick go? I already said no when he offered the first time.”
“Nick’s about as easy to stop as you when he decides he’s doing something. Hang on, let me contact everyone.”
Nate put my line on speaker, and I listened as he recalled two teams—one from Syria and one from Jordan. Smart cookies—at least they’d found the plane. I felt bad about trashing the MiG, really. I’d liked it. How much did a second-hand model cost? The running costs would be killer but the fun factor might make it worth it, plus I could seriously reduce my commuting time.
Nate interrupted my mental calculations. “Where on earth are you?”
“Welcome back, Emmy. Nice to hear from you, Emmy. How are you, Emmy?”
“It’s been nine days. The time for pleasantries ran out a week ago. Just answer the question, will you?”
“Dahab. And I would have called sooner if I’d had access to a phone that worked. But I had more important things on my mind, like not dying.”
He ignored the last part. Typical Nate. “How on earth did you get there?”
“A rough summary would be fly, walk, camel, more camel, truck, climb, boat, swim, walk. If you want more details, you’ll have to wait until I’m on a secure line.”
“Fine. When will that be?”
“Gimme twenty minutes. I need to collect my house key and put some clothes on. I’m standing outside in my underwear, and the hotel guests are gonna start waking up soon.”
“We’ll be waiting with bated breath,” Nate replied, before softening his tone a little. “Emmy, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.”
Captain Bob came back with my key, and after promising to have breakfast with him at a slightly more sensible hour, I walked to the villa next to his. It wasn’t a massive place, just three bedrooms each with an en-suite, a kitchen, and a combined living and dining area, but it did have a decent-sized terrace out the front with a magnificent sea view.
Although clean, the place smelled musty. Hardly surprising when it hadn’t been used in almost a year. I’d always remember that scuba diving break as the last proper holiday Black and I took together. Five days, just the two of us and a bunch of fish. Oh, and he spent most of the time with his shirt off. Happy days.
But no more.
My closet was exactly as I left it, and I rummaged around for a pair of shorts with a drawstring. I’d lost so much weight in the last week anything else would have slipped down low enough to become indecent. I caught sight of my ribs in the mirror as I pulled a tank top on. Thin, far too thin. My donut diet started now.
I gazed longingly at the shower as I left the room. Gritty salt crystals covered me, leaving my skin dry and cracked in places. And my hair? Ugh. I tried to think positive. At least I’d washed the sweat and dirt off on my swim over.
Beyond exhausted, I hesitated on the threshold to Black’s bedroom. Had he left it tidy? I couldn’t stand to see his personal belongings. Not today, when I’d already faced my own mortality. What if he’d left clothes out? What if…? Oh, just get on with it. I stepped inside, letting out the breath I’d been holding when I saw it devoid of reminders. Now I needed to get what I came for.
I rolled back the rug next to the bed, revealing a small vault set into the floor. A ten-digit combination got me into it, and I pulled out a secure phone and a laptop. Months without use had left the batteries dead, so I plugged both in before powering them up.
The computer whirred to life, and I logged into the Blackwood intranet. Within a couple of minutes, the control room in Richmond appeared on the screen, bustling with quiet activity as always. Nate was there in his usual seat, looking more haggard than I’d ever seen him. Was that all because of me? We’d had our ups and downs over the years, so I guess I was a bit surprised to find he’d been so worried. I’d have to wind him up about that when I got home.
Beyond Nate, I got my first glimpse of Jed, sitting at Black’s old desk with a heavy-duty cast propped up on a wheelie chair. As I watched, one of the interns brought him over a slice of cake and a cup of coffee, served with a smile. Now, that didn’t surprise me at all.
“Hey, Jed.” My voice came out as a croak, and I sounded like a frog. “What did the doc say about your leg?”
“Broken tibia and ligament damage in my knee.”
“Hang on a sec.” I found a leftover bottle of water in the kitchen and sipped from it before I sat back down. “The bone will heal quick enough. What’s the verdict on the ligaments?”
“Six weeks of rest, then they’ll reassess and see whether I need surgery.”
“Six weeks stuck behind a desk. If you’re lucky, I might give you a break from that. You owe me a very expensive dinner.”
“Darlin’, I’ll buy you the whole restaurant.”
I laughed. “Just dinner will be fine. And maybe a decent bottle of wine.”
“Deal.”
Nate huffed and broke in. “If you two are quite finished arranging your date, can we talk about work?”
“Shoot.”
“No more shooting. You’ve already done enough of that. We’ve heard what happened up until you crawled away from Logan and Jed through that pipe, but can you fill us in on the rest?”
I briefly explained the events of the evening and the following days, starting with the missile and finishing with my swim into Dahab. Nobody bothered taking notes—Nate recorded everything.
“Jed, can you set me up a debrief meeting with the CIA?” I asked once I’d finished. They’d have a million questions, no matter how thorough my report might be.
“Sure.”
“Sloane?”
She beamed at me from her spot beside Jed. “Yes?”
“I need you to send a new satellite phone out to Salah. He’ll pick it up from the local post office again.” Well, local-ish. A hundred and twenty kilometres counted as close by in that desolate wasteland.
A quick nod, and she made a note on her iPad.
“Mack, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
A picture feed from the control room at Albany House popped up. Normally, Mack got the most stressed out of all of us, and after seeing how rough Nate looked, I’d been a bit worried about her. Thankfully, she didn’t look as bad as I’d feared, although I did note the plateful of pastries beside her. She’d been using sugar as a crutch again.
“I’m going to send some photos over. The ones of the weapons need to go to the CIA, and they can clean those up themselves. Just make sure they know about the Stinger right away. I got photos of the serial number, and someone needs to find out where that missile was supposed to be because I’m fairly certain that place was not on a Syrian military base.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“The photos of Philip aren’t for general consumption. Believe me when I say they’re nasty. There’s a tattoo you can blow up for identification, and if that’s not enough, I’ll bring back a DNA sample.” On my knife blade, which I’d managed to keep dry on my trek.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Mack, are you okay?” She’d squirmed in her seat again, the second time I’d seen her do it.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Look, if it’s about the photos of Philip, I’m sure Nate could deal with them instead.”
“No, really, it’s okay. I just need a bathroom break.”
Come to think of it, I could do with one myself. “Right, I’ll leave you alone then.” I switched back to Richmond. “What does my schedule look like for the next few days?”
Sloane hesitated for several awkward seconds. “Uh, I cleared it, so it’s empty.”
“For Pete’s sake, not another person who thought I was dead?”
Okay, so I’d come close enough to touch the reaper, but that wasn’t the point. I’d been used to Black’s unwavering belief that I could do anything, and it hurt when others doubted me. It had been Black’s confidence that gave me confidence in myself, and if people started thinking I’d fail, I’d need to be very careful that negativity didn’t transfer to me.
“We were just worried, Emmy. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it. Anyway, if I don’t need to rush back, I’ll stay out here for a bit. It’s been months since I did any diving.”
“Shall I schedule a flight to Virginia for you in a few days? A week?
“Let’s go for five days. Is Bradley back yet?”
Before I left, I’d told him he might as well take a break while I was away. He’d borrowed my plane and flown to Italy. Miles, his boyfriend, was on another archaeological dig out there, but Bradley had convinced him to take a week off and spend some time at my Italian villa.
“No, and we didn’t tell him you were missing, either. We didn’t want to worry him.”
“Good. He’d probably end up on medication if your optimistic attitude rubbed off on him. Can you let him know when my flight is?”
“Will do. See you soon.”
Now, what should I do with myself? A few days without meetings or missions or Alex hounding me promised bliss. Although I’d had plenty of downtime with Luke, that hadn’t been a holiday. In England… Well, if I hadn’t lost my marbles, there was certainly a hole in the bag. I hadn’t been able to relax.
Today, I’d start with a long, hot shower, and by the time I’d got dressed, the hotel would be serving breakfast. The thought of waffles with maple syrup made my mouth water. After that, the sun lounger on my terrace seemed like a good place to rest my aching limbs. My muscles needed a couple of days to repair themselves after what I’d put them through, or I’d risk further injury. Maybe afterwards, I’d go diving. Or wakeboarding. Or windsurfing.
Or maybe I’d simply sleep.