of middle Eastern descent, aged between twenty-five to thirty—one male, one female. Intel indicates they’ve spent time in Afghanistan, probably receiving training; the usual hand to hand combat, weapons operation, bomb making, deployment and execution. He’s been linked to the bombing incident in Bali, resulting in the death of twelve civilians. She’s also a nasty piece of work. They are wanted by Interpol in connection with the kidnapping of a diplomat’s daughter in France. The remains of Marie Claire Reynard were discovered three months ago in a shallow grave. She had been tortured and suffocated—she was nineteen…”
She continues and I sit down, hoping the sheer terror I’m feeling is not showing on my face. I had no idea just how dangerous our adversaries are.
All eyes remain on her, including mine.
Our Captain raises his hand. “Mrs. Stone, I wonder if you’ve really considered the implications of taking these two on. You could be putting yourself in a very dangerous position. The minute your head become visible above the parapet, you become a legitimate target. Their M.O. is not something you should take lightly.”
I raise my chin defiantly. “Christian, I have thought long and hard about it. I’m prepared to take the risk.” I’m adamant.
He lowers his eyes to my stomach. “And what about them? Are you willing to end their lives too? Because it may come to that.”
As if to shut out the thought, I close my eyes. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to protect my family. But we have to do it before my husband does something foolish, making all this hiding away a futile exercise.” The determination in my voice and my unflinching expression leave them under no illusions as to my decisiveness. “My selfless husband is about to become a sitting duck. I can’t allow that to happen. This way, we take control. We orchestrate everything and execute the mission with precision. I believe we’ve come together for a reason. If there is one group of people who can work with stealth, bringing together the perfect combination of experience and know-how, it’s you. We also have the element of surprise on our side. They’ll assume my marriage is in disarray. After the break-up, I’ve been nursing a broken heart, but now I’m back and a viable target.”
“What makes you think they’ll abandon your husband and focus their attention on you, Beth?” Luke asks. “They might already have something in place.”
I shrug my shoulders resignedly. “They might, but he’s a hard target at the moment. He has the protection of a bodyguard, and the British Secret Service are looking out for him and following up leads…”
There’s a group snigger.
“Is that amusing?” I ask, not bothering to disguise my irritation.
I’m met with a collective “No.”
“There’s nothing amusing about being on a hit list, Beth,” Christian says with a serious frown. “It’s the fact that MI5 are involved. When it comes to this kind of thing, they’re too busy checking rule-books and straightening ties to act decisively. Most of them are pen-pushers, they rarely go out into the field and, frankly, they couldn’t catch a cold.”
The room erupts into laughter. I’m too invested to laugh—this is my husband’s life we are talking about. “Well then, more reason to make this work—to show them how it’s done.”
There’s silent contemplation.
I conclude our discussion. “Of course you’re under no obligation to help. This is a deviation from your baby-sitting role, and you’ll be generously rewarded for your time and effort. I wouldn’t expect you to put your life on the line for me, for free.” I manufacture a smile. “You have families and loved ones back home I know you’ll want to get back to.”
I can’t make it any plainer. I have laid everything out before them. All I can do now is wait and pray they sign up for this secret mission. I stand, wrapping my cardigan around me for warmth. “You have a detailed plan in front of you to read through. I’ll leave you to chat among yourselves and to come to a decision. One way or another, I’ll have to know tonight.” Individually, I meet their eyes, conveying not only my resolve but the level of respect I have for each of them.
The moment my feet hit the hallway, there is the sound of muffled voices.
I pass the time in my cabin sitting cross-legged on my bed, watching a slide show. Ayden mentioned these same photographs in his letter and how they stirred up memories and emotions he