Blue Moon #3 (Story of Us Series - Into the Blue) - Sydney Jamesson Page 0,62

so bad. It looks worse than it is. It was a controlled explosion.” Realising her state of undress, she reassembles her blouse. “The main thing is, we got them. They fell right into our trap.”

I manage a smile. “Well done, Bernie. You should all feel very proud of yourselves, even if you did keep us in the dark.” I tip my head toward Lester standing a couple of yards behind her.

“Sorry about that.” She looks crestfallen.

“You might have to do some explaining to your father.”

She squeezes my arm. “I will.” But her attention is drawn to the sound of loud voices behind her.

Lester is in conversation with the crew, still clad in combat gear. I assume he’s venting his anger at not being consulted, but the outcome is good, isn’t it? Even so, I have to wonder … if that’s the case, why are they looking so worried?

“I’ll see you later when you’ve cleaned up.” I leave Bernie with two paramedics and head toward the fracas. When they’re within earshot they stop speaking, tipped off by Lester who has spotted me approaching.

“I just wanted to say well done, gentlemen. You’ve certainly outdone yourself.” I reach out to shake their hands, each one of them in turn. They don’t respond. Even though they are camouflaged and their faces are streaked in black and green, I see their eyes darting across to each other before finding their resting place on Lester once more,

“We have a problem, Mr. Stone,” Lester says. “Please come with me.”

I follow him, trying to predict what could have gone wrong…

Has someone been injured?

Is it the damage sustained to the property?

Standing by the passenger side of the black limousine, he taps on the glass. The window lowers and I have to tip my head to see who the passenger is.

Fuck! It’s Pendleton.

“Please tell Mr. Stone what you just told Captain Bell, Mr. Pendleton.” Lester folds his arms and raises his chin, looking defiant and imposing.

“We have two people in custody, Mr. Stone.” He tips his head in the direction of the black van parked in front of his car. “One of them we have identified as having connections to yourself and your wife. The other is not known to us… In fact I would go so far as to say they’re hired help—French, local, with no connection to you, your company or your wife.”

I’m listening but missing the full picture. “So, you’re telling me that one of them is still at large? Is that it?”

“I’m afraid so.” He tucks a folder into a suitcase placed by his feet.

I can only shake my head. “Let me get this straight. You use my wife as bait and get these guys to do your dirty work for you, and even then you fuck it up?”

“We had no way of—“

“No way of what? No way of knowing that they would out-smart the lot of you?” I look away from him back at the villa; windows have been blown out, there are fragments of wood floating in the pool, the gendarmerie are holding back bystanders and the press; the entire scene looks like something out of a disaster movie. If it wasn’t so fucking tragic, it would be laughable.

Lester leads me away, Pendleton raises his window and there’s little more to be said on the matter—for now. One of the crew, I recognise him as the Captain in question, is holding up a satellite phone and looks as though he’s just received bad news.

Once again my heartbeat quickens.

“Wait here please, Mr. Stone. I won’t be a minute.” Lester advances with military precision over to the Captain and takes hold of the satellite phone. There’s pointing and the shaking of heads. It doesn’t look good.

En mass, they move towards the van where the two insurgents are being held, guarded by two suited agents. I do the same.

What’s happening?

I arrive mid-conversation. Lester is talking. “We have to ask him a few questions. This is a life and death situation. He knows where she is.”

Where who is? Does he mean Beth?

Pendleton dashes over, forcing his way through the bodies to get to Lester. “He’s in custody now. International Law dictates that—“

“Fuck International Law! We need to ask him a few questions. We’ve lost communication with the boat. We suspect—”

Petulant and impatient, I interrupt. “You’ve lost communication with the boat?” I push forward until Lester and I are face to face. “What does that mean?”

Feeling the force of my stare, Lester explains, “It could mean nothing, or it