Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty
Bexley

If Susan Wolfe thought I was going to walk into an ambush without a plan of action, then she was gravely mistaken. My husbands helped me to stash a few tricks up my sleeve. It would by us more time to grab Caz, then get us the hell out of there. We just had to get back to the UK without being captured by the British military. It would take days for Dad’s ship, the Triumph, to get there. And even then, agents would catch us before we crossed over onto British waters. The only option we had was to take Ulrich’s jet and land it onto a private airstrip because the Civil Aviation Authority would never grant us the permission to land. Even then, we would risk the Airforce shooting us out of the sky, or tailing us to our destination. Ulrich could only scramble the signals for so long, and then we would appear on their radar. We had twenty-four hours, and time was running out. I hardly said a word as we flew across Saudi Arabia, then Italy, and France. The guys went over all the things that could happen when the landing gear touches down on the tarmac.

“We go home,” Asher suggested, stunning everyone in the cabin.

“Home?” Braxton repeated. He paused as if he was expecting Asher to tell him he was joking. “As in home—home? What about one of the disused airfields closest to Bexley's house?”

Dominic side-eyed Cruz, seeking his twin’s reassurance. I was waiting for Dad or Zane to jump all over his suggestion, but they seemed keen to listen to whatever he had to say.

“Yes . . . home,” Asher confirmed. “There’s no way we can risk landing anywhere else. The agency will corner us with no means of escape. I know Sandbanks is a long way from Cheshire, but we can buy Bexley some time.”

“How?” Braxton asked, unconvinced. “They’ll expect that, and they’ll be waiting for us to trip the alarm.”

“That’s what we want,” Asher replied confidently.

“It is?” Braxton stammered, still not convinced.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ash,” Cruz spoke out. “And it’s exactly what we want. We can create a diversion and that will give Bexley the chance to get to Cheshire before the deadline.”

Dominic scrunched his face with disapproval. “And how are we supposed to go with her if we’re carted off to jail in handcuffs?”

“We’re giving her a head start,” Asher explained. “We have the evidence that will vindicate us all. If they capture Bexley, we can kiss goodbye to everything. Susan will get her hands on the files, and it would have all been for nothing.”

“How are we going to get the Ministry to listen to us? We’re wanted fugitives. They will shoot us where we stand,” Braxton muttered exasperatedly.

Dominic pulled out his laptop and fired it up, the light illuminating the cabin. “I know how we can get their attention,” he uttered, tapping away on his keyboard. “I’ve just contacted Interpol, our contact at Buckingham Palace, and our old team at MI6, telling them that I have concrete proof that the Chameleon is behind this. I’ve sent the recording I made of Susan’s transmission, and a list of all the people who are affiliated with her. If they want the proof, we have it. They will have to listen to us now and discard everything that Malcolm said.”

“But that won’t stop them from getting heavy with us when we touch down at Sandbanks,” Braxton commented. “How will Bexley get away?”

“We’ll improvise,” Asher reinforced. “I checked the CCTV on my phone app, and the chopper is still there on the helipad.” He pulled out a T-shaped tool from his jacket pocket and dangled it in front of him. “They can’t gain access to the chopper unless they force entry, but I do suspect they will have bugged it, but that’s a good thing. It’ll mean they can track it to Cheshire. Then they will find the Chameleon, and her accomplices.”

It snapped Emilio out of his misery and his eyes flared wide. “I already told you; I’ll get Bexley there. You deal with the authorities, and send the coroner over to Bexley’s place.”

Teddy gripped Emilio’s arm. “Don’t go in there all guns blazing or you’ll get yourself killed.”

Emilio sneered. “Don’t worry. It won’t be me leaving in a body bag.”

“It won’t our wife, either,” Cruz said, throwing me a wink.

I flashed Cruz a soft smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll get there as soon as we can,” Cruz reassured me, squeezing my hand. “It will take more than an army to stop us.”

Asher and Dominic checked the surveillance cameras in and around their beachside home and found that no one was there. We knew it was a trap to make us think that it was safe. They could be there within moments. The plan was not to throw them off the scent, we had to lead them to Susan.

“Bexley,” Dominic spoke my name, grabbing my attention. “Do you have that thing I gave to you?” He didn’t say what it was; he just flared his eyes in a silent signal.

I nodded, tapping my jacket pocket. “It’s right here.”

I put on the earrings that Dominic designed, and shoved some other items into my pockets. One was a vital necessity so we could pull off this plan. The items were small enough for me to conceal, and could be passed off as everyday essentials. It meant that if Susan forced me to surrender my gun, I still had the means to protect myself.

Ulrich’s jet made a slow descent over Northern France. The lights twinkled on the ground like the sky had been turned upside-down. We flew over Normandy Beach, then across the onyx waters of the English Channel.

“Here she is . . . home sweet home,” Dad muttered ominously.

We braced ourselves ready for a sudden attack. The beach, the land, and the sky seemed deserted. It was too quiet. We all agreed that this seemed too good to be true. Ulrich deployed the landing gear and we came to a skidding halt on the floodlit tarmac beside the house.

Asher thrust the T-shaped key into Emilio’s hand. “I take it you know how to fly a helicopter?” he asked.

Emilio snatched the metal tool with a confused frown on his face. “No, but I can fly a plane. I didn’t think you needed a key to start the engine,” he muttered sarcastically.

“You don’t,” Asher replied straight-faced. “You need it to secure the doors. If the key isn’t inserted and turned to the “on” position, the turbine igniters won’t fire up, and the engines won’t start.”

Emilio nodded, looking confident that he could do this. My men took turns to kiss me goodbye. And then Dad hugged me. Zane, Teddy, and Cruz got out of the cabin and checked around for any sign of a threat. Dominic, Ulrich, Braxton, and Asher covered us as we ran towards the copter.

Lights appeared across the waterfront, and the heavy thrum of copter blades sliced through the air like a giant wasp. The agency was coming, and we didn’t have much time. Emilio climbed into the cockpit, and Dad practically flung me in after him, then slid the door shut. My hands were violently shaking as I buckled my harness and pulled on my headset. Emilio shoved the key into the slot, securing the doors, then started the turbines. The propellors began to whirl, gathering speed. I couldn’t hear gunshots, but I could see the guys walking towards the agents, surrendering with their hands in the air. No one was shooting. That had to be a good thing, right? As Emilio lifted us off the ground, it gave us a better view. Jet skis littered the edge of the beach, and agents scurried across the sand like ants. The rival helicopter turned its spotlight onto us, dazzling us in the eyes. Emilio swung us around and headed north. They followed us, mimicking our movements as we meandered through the sky.

“What if they shoot us down?” I asked, craning my head around to see.

“They won’t,” Emilio replied, sounding sure about that. “You’re precious cargo. They need those files you’re carrying, and don’t forget you’re the key to unlocking them.”

“I hope everyone will be all right,” I expressed, worried for what lay in store for them.

Emilio didn’t answer. He glared dead-ahead with a frown as fierce as thunder.

“I’m sorry about Carlos and Tania,” I mentioned.

Emilio released a heavy sigh. “Yeah . . . me too.” A long moment passed between us before he spoke again. “I just can’t believe I let them play me like that. Fuck love. I’m done.”

I placed my hand over his. “Don’t say that,” I spoke affectionately. “You will find someone worthy of your heart. If polygamy has taught me anything, it’s that love knows no limits. You’ll meet someone else and you’ll fall just as hard. That’s life. Don’t let them take that away from you too.”

He hummed in agreement but didn’t say much else. I spared another glance behind us and saw we were still being followed.

“The agent’s helicopter is still there,” I told him. “It’s weird. I don’t think they’re chasing us. They’re too far behind.”

Emilio flashed me a reassuring smile. “Take that as a good sign,” he replied. “It means your men have persuaded them to trust us.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief and pulled my phone from my pocket. There was a message from Dominic, telling me that everything was going to be all right, and to stick to the original plan. As I clicked off the text, something weird happened. My phone reset, and my old home screen popped up, along with all my old contacts. The message from Dominic had disappeared, erasing all the evidence. I knew what I had to do. It was all part of the plan. I scrolled through the list of names and pressed to dial Caz’s number.

“Hello, Bexley,” Susan answered in a honeyed tone, just like I suspected she would. “What a coincidence, we were just talking about you.”

“Oh yeah?” My tone came out clipped. “Why don’t you just cut the bullshit and enlighten me?”

Susan cleared her throat. “I was just explaining the asphyxiation process to Caroline,” she answered in a threatening promise. “I told her for every minute that you run late, it will be a further minute I’ll deprive her of oxygen.” She chuckled, much to my outrage. “We brought a special breathing tank, just for the occasion. It’ll lasts for twenty-four hours, but after that, well . . . you’re an intelligent girl. You can do the math.”

“I’m almost there,” I forced out the words, choking down the bile in my throat. “If she dies, I will finish what my mother started. I’ll destroy you. Your life’s work will be for nothing.”

“Thanks to you, it already is,” she snapped.

Emilio flashed his eyes to me and I saw the panic within them. “Ten minutes and we’ll be there,” he assured me.

“I want a fair trade,” I reminded Susan. “Caz . . . in exchange for the files.”

“Just be here on time,” she seethed, then the line went dead.

From up here, I the ariel view of the landscape came into focus. I could make out exactly where we were, recognising the M6 motorway as we flew past Stoke-On-Trent, then circled over Nantwich. I could see the oil refinery all lit up at Stanlow; it was near the estuary at Ellesmere Port. It meant my stately home was just a stone’s throw away.

We’re coming, Caz. Just sit tight until we get there.