Page 270 of The Black Trilogy

“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.

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