‘What is it?’
‘I want Tawanda to come, too. She can be my new personal assistant.’
He let out a laugh and shook his head. ‘Tawanda is a great cook,’ Nathan said, ‘and she’s the best shot I know, apart from me, but let’s just say her IT skills aren’t quite up there with Mr Jobs.’
‘I don’t care. I mean, I can handle my own schedule. Well, I’ve never done it before, but how hard can it be? And it isn’t like it’s going to take that long to get kidnapped, is it? A few days? Less?’ Autumn gauged, her voice weakening as she reached the end of the sentence.
‘Maybe,’ he replied, his tone sober.
‘So, are we agreed?’
‘You inferred I didn’t have a choice.’
‘You don’t. Good, that’s settled. I’ll pack. Am I allowed to take some of these clothes?’ Autumn asked as she indicated one of the open wardrobes.
The outfits she had been wearing since she arrived in the US were so unlike anything she had at home, but she’d grown accustomed to the new style. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go straight back into the high-fashion, uber-styled clothes she used to wear. Things had changed. She had changed. Being out of the limelight, she’d discovered so much about herself, about what was important, about who she was and what she wanted to be. Art gallery openings didn’t matter, and bingeing on food and purging afterwards wasn’t normal. Grenades felt nothing like the new Blackberry, and you could wear an outfit more than once without it combusting. How shallow she was. How stuck-up and self-absorbed. Nathan had fought for his country, had put his life on the line, and now he was going to do it again, for her. She hadn’t deserved that a few days ago. Did she really deserve it now?
He nodded and stood up.
‘Make sure you take the turquoise dress,’ he added as he walked to the door.
She looked in the wardrobe for it, and then turned back to him.
A hint of a smile appeared on his mouth. ‘It’s in my room.’
Twenty-Eight
It had taken less than four hours for Teo and Jazz to arrange an aircraft for them from Charlevoix. That had been just long enough for Autumn to pack and have one last blazing row with her mother. Alison wasn’t onboard with the new plan, but whether that was because she thought it might make a hole in her carefully crafted cover or out of concern for Autumn, no one knew.
He had dropped the Foreign Secretary at the port on Beaver Island and assumed she would go back to her hotel to make her calls and regroup her minions. He still wasn’t sure of her motives, or whose side she was really on. But, seeing as Autumn had made up her mind over this, it had become irrelevant.
He looked at Autumn across the narrow aisle of the plane. She sat next to Tawanda with her head resting against the woman’s shoulder, helping her with a crossword book she had found in the house and brought with them. Despite the desperation of the scenario, she was smiling. What had that pop star life done to her that this could be better?
‘Mr Nathan, what is something carried, weighs upon you, 6 letters, something, something, “r”, “d”, something, something?’ Tawanda asked.
‘We don’t need that one yet. That one there is “Aniston”,’ Autumn said, pointing to the book.
‘The lady from Friends, yes?’ Tawanda said.
‘Yes.’
‘Burden,’ Nathan spoke up.
‘What?’ Autumn asked.
‘The clue you asked. The answer’s “burden”.’
‘Of course it is! How did I not see! Thank you, Mr Nathan.’
*
Autumn smiled across at him as Tawanda wrote in the answer. What he was doing for her was against all his instincts as a soldier. You didn’t have to know the ins and outs of battle to know that if you were surplus to requirements in a situation, things probably weren’t going to end well. He knew that, and he was going against his gut to save her. That wasn’t just his job. That was something else. But what? Was it because he cared for her? Or was it because he didn’t care about himself? She hoped the second one wasn’t true. She didn’t dare think about the first. She had trouble even looking at him without seeing a re-run of their night together.
‘Tawanda, do you know how to use an iPhone?’ she asked her.
‘iPhone is like a normal phone, just with more apps,’ Tawanda replied. ‘I’ve lived in the UK for almost twenty-five years, child. I can even work satellite television.’ Tawanda raised her eyebrows far up on her forehead. Almost made them disappear into the purple scarf tied around her head.
‘When we get home, I’m going to take you out to dinner. There’s this exclusive restaurant, a ten-minute cab ride from my apartment, that does the best chicken I’ve ever had,’ Autumn announced.
‘The best you’ve ever had, huh?’ Tawanda queried, her eyebrows unmoved.
‘Well, obviously it was, until I’d tasted yours. Listen, if you don’t think it’s good, we’ll complain to the chef and suggest he tries using your recipe.’
‘You would do that, child?’
‘I was very rude to you when we first met, I can remember how to do rude,’ Autumn answered with a smile.
*
Nathan’s phone rang, and both the women looked over at him. He took it from his pocket and looked at the display. He didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual. He hovered his thumb over the answer button, unsure whether to take the call or not.
‘Who is it?’ Autumn asked, noticing his hesitation.
‘It’s probably Section 7,’ he responded.
‘Then why aren’t you answering it?’
Why wasn’t he answering it? That was a good question. Because he would have to lie to them? Because he was concerned about their motives in this whole operation?
He pressed the button on screen with his thumb and put the phone to his ear. ‘Hello.’
He listened, all the while knowing, full well, that Autumn and
