Page 52 of Savage Obsession

“UK. England,” I reply. “We land in five minutes.”

She frowns at me as though trying to decipher my words. Seemingly satisfied, she relaxes somewhat to gaze out of the windows at the scenery below.

Kittyhawk is every bit as discreet at the pilot suggested. Although smart enough and clearly well-cared for, the place appears deserted right now. No vehicles are in the parking area as we descend, and only one other aircraft is on the tarmac. I recognise the Caraksay helicopter, rotors spinning slowly, idling until we arrive. Two figures leap out when we approach.

Lily is watching. She recognises them, or at least one of them. “Mama,” she cries, almost in disbelief, her palms and nose up against the windowpane.

I wait until the rotors above us have slowed sufficiently before flinging open the door from the cabin and dropping to the ground. I turn and beckon to Lily.

This time she has no hesitation. She plunges forward into my arms, and I help her down, then stand back when she darts forward to fling her arms around the slender woman weeping beside the other chopper.

A job well done. Now, back to Geneva to grapple with the intricacies of international diplomacy.

CHAPTER 13

Baz

I hang back. This reunion is between Julia and Lily, so I let them have the space.

Julia is weeping, making no attempt to stem the flow of tears when she first catches sight of our prodigal daughter. She lurches forward the moment Lily’s feet hit the ground and enfolds her in her arms.

If I ever nurtured any lingering uncertainties regarding where my wife’s maternal loyalties lie, they are dispelled in this instant. She’s devoted to Lily, and it would seem the feeling is mutual.

“Mama, Mama. Bylem przerazony. Ten mezczyzna…”

I was scared. That man…

I stroll over to Gabriel Sawyer, waiting beside the other helicopter. “How did it go?” Snatching a twelve-year-old from a crowded transport hub without creating a fuss is easier said than done.

“She came quietly. Your wife helped.”

“I owe you.”

“I’d say we’re even, though there is the matter of the cost of helicopter fuel, port documentation, and egg sandwiches.”

I slap him on the back. “I’ll sort out the money. As for the rest…”

“I know. Kids, eh?” He clambers back into his chopper. “Say my goodbyes to Lily, will you? And to your wife.”

I shade my eyes as the aircraft circles once then heads back south across the English Channel. I shift my attention to the weeping females beside me.

“Ready to go?” I ask.

Julia nods, hugging Lily to her.

My daughter seems to register my presence for the first time. She regards me shyly, then, “Are you… Baz?”

Not ‘my father’. Or ‘dad’.

Naturally, she speaks in Polish. I reply in the same language.

“Yes.” I summon up what will have to pass for a smile. “It’s good to meet you properly, at last.”

“You met me when I was baby. Before you left.” Her tone is accusatory, demanding of an explanation.

I don’t have one, not really. Or, rather, it’s not really a suitable conversation between virtual strangers on a windswept foreign runway. I stick to practicalities.

“We need to get moving.” Not entirely untrue, our authority to use this airfield is tenuous at best. I gesture to the helicopter where Magda is waiting for us. “Let’s go.”

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