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But first, you have to make it out of this.

“I sailed the yacht close to the drop-off point we’d agreed on, anchored it, and sent the man the coordinates by encrypted message. I hid the money in the inflatable dinghy and set off back to shore.” My heart is going hard, every moment of that terrifying night etched forever into my nervous system. “I was planning to take it to the marina, leave it somewhere you would find it. But when I came close to shore, the man was standing on the beach, waiting for me. He shot the dinghy. It started to sink. I knew he was going to shoot me, too.” My voice is barely a whisper, the fear just as paralyzing as it was then. “Except right before he could, a lineof cars came over the dunes, lit the beach up like a football stadium. I saw the man’s face, as clear as if it was daylight.” I shudder, the memory of the cold, hard features as vivid now as it was then. “I sank under the water, trying to hide. When I surfaced, he was gone. It turned out the cars were just a pack of kids who wanted to party on the beach. I grabbed the money before the dinghy sunk and swam down the coast to the next beach. I should have just run. But I still had your money. I planned to give it back to you, but I knew Nico would never let me, and he had my passport. So I hid the bag and went back to the hostel. By then, Nico was awake—and furious, as you can imagine.” I look directly at Rodrigo. “That was when you came. I was going to tell you about the money, but then I heard the commotion downstairs—you thought it was the police and ran. But I knew he’d come for us.”

I swallow, remembering.

“It was him.” I can barely get the words out. “I could hear him killing men downstairs. You’d already knocked Nico out, and I didn’t have time to run, so I hid in the closet. I was sure he’d find me.” My breath is coming short. “He shot Nico as soon as he came in. He was still searching for me when the police arrived. I don’t know how he escaped. I just know that I’ve never seen him again.” I meet Rodrigo’s eyes. “You know the rest. I went to prison, and that’s where I stayed, right up until your father came for me.” I take a deep breath. “I gave your father what he wanted, like I told you. But I never told him about the money,yourmoney. And after your father had me released, I went back for it.”

Rodrigo’s laugh is cold and completely without humor.

“You think you can bargain your way out of this with a few hundred thousand dollars? I spend money like that to fuel my yachts. It’s pocket change, nothing more.”

“Maybe.”Sell it, Abby.“But it isn’t the money that’s valuable. It’s what I hidwiththe money. The tablet your father gave me,the one with the photo of this man’s face. I printed off one copy of it in an internet café. That’s what I sent Juan, once I was safe. But the tablet with the original I hid with the money. It’s still there, as far as I know. That’s what I can offer you, Rodrigo.” I look around the penthouse. “And it’s also why we need to get out of here. As soon as possible. Because the minute that man knows I’ve escaped, and that we’re together, he won’t wait to ask questions. He’ll just have us killed.” I meet his eyes steadily. “And if you think I’m lying,” I say quietly, “then you haven’t been paying attention.”

He laughs again, but this time I hear it, the faint trace of uncertainty.

“I have a dozen men on this floor,” he says. “They’re all armed, and they’d all die to protect me. Nobody but them and the helicopter pilot know you’re here; we came in from the rooftop.”

“And that makes thirteen people who are supposed to keep your secret.” I shake my head. “That’s a lot of eyes, Rodrigo. I guarantee you he owns at least one pair of them. Probably the pilot, unless you brought him with you from Colombia.”

His eyes narrow as he stares at me.

I stare back.

Finally, his eyes shift uneasily. Then he takes out his phone. “Get in here,” he orders in Spanish. A moment later, he opens the door to let in one of his men. “We’re moving,” Rodrigo tells him in a low voice. “Find a car. You’ll be driving. I want a cheap hotel, somewhere nobody would think to look for us, and I need everyone, including the hotel staff and our own people, to believe I’m still in here with the girl. Got it?”

The man nods and disappears.

Rodrigo scowls at me. “This doesn’t mean I believe you,” he says curtly. “It just means I’m being cautious.”

I nod.

It will do, for now.

16

Dimitry

Bangkok, Thailand

“This is your grand plan?” I glare at Paddy. “Send Pete into bars night after night, showing photos of Abby around? It’s been three nights, and we’ve got nothing.”

“It’s what any dumb Australian tourist would do if they came looking for their kid.” He shrugs. “It might be slower than you’d like, but unless you fancy trying your luck with the local coppers, it’s the best we’ve got. Besides, it was always going to take a night or two before word spread and we drew attention. I guarantee you Pete will get a visit from the people you’re waiting on this evening.”

I shift impatiently. We’re sitting in a small hole-in-the-wall noodle joint. The owner is a contact of Paddy’s who also happens to have a basement full of some serious weaponry. I’ve dropped a significant amount to buy most of it.

I don’t like the edgy vibe in the street, but knowing I’m strapped to the hilt makes me breathe at least a little bit easier.

Since my bratva ink isn’t subtle, I’m also wearing one of the ridiculous Hawaiian shirts Paddy insisted we all buy. Mine is hot pink, with long sleeves that cover my arms. A white cotton singlet beneath it takes care of the more visible ink on my chest. Topped with a floppy canvas hat, very ugly dad shorts, and cheap sneakers, I look like an Ohio car salesman who got lost in transit.

At least the fucking clown outfit is baggy enough to hide the guns.

Luke sits beside me, watching the bar opposite. It’s the third one Pete has gone into. So far, going by the audio we’re picking up from his hidden mike, he’s been offered a variety of sexual services ranging from blow jobs to a threesome involving two very beautiful transgender women. Tame, compared to some of the offers he’s had over the last two nights. Nobody has recognized the photo he’s shown around yet, although one bar girl did offer to put on a wig and dress like Abby if that would get him going. I was a bit worried for a minute that encounter might end in violence, but so far, Pete has stuck to his gruff Australian character and politely declined.

“There.” Luke nudges me. “See those guys?” I follow where he’s pointing and see three Chinese men exiting a four-wheel drive with tinted windows.

“Triad.” I nod. Dressed in black silk, with dark glasses and visible weapons, they’re hardly subtle.

“Ha.” Paddy tilts his beer in my direction with a snide look. “Fucking told you so.”