“Our jet?” Madison turned to him with a worried frown. “So the big macho men are heading into the storm, and we're relegated to the sidelines?”
Et tu, Paco? Et tu?
Looking back at Alex, she asked, “And where exactly are we going?”
Her fiancé released a frustrated huff as he gently stroked the pout of her lower lip with his thumb. “Look, this wasn’t my idea. Begrudgingly, I support Paco’s wishes. Besides, it gives the team time to get everything set up before you all join us. And I’m sure as hell not forcing this on you. I know Jess wants time with Mark, and we all know that Richard and Jaclyn would like a few days to get, uh, reacquainted. So I’ll leave it up to you. You’re all welcome to join us as we head to Singapore. Or . . .”
“Or . . .” Paco drew out the word for effect, aiming his enthusiastic charm at Madison. “We can head to Paris where a dozen of your girlfriends are already waiting to kick off your bachelorette party.”
Wide-eyed and squealing, Madison looked at the ladies who were now as excited as she was.
“I’m always down for a chocolate croissant,” Jaclyn said.
Jess grinned. “Being constantly surrounded by Mark and all my brothers, I’ll never turn down a girls’ getaway.”
Inwardly delighted, Madison conceded. “I guess the big macho men are leaving without us.”
Without another word, Jess and Jaclyn hurried across the tarmac to the luxurious France-bound jet, chattering excitedly about what they wanted to do first when they arrived.
Madison would have bolted too, but Alex wrapped a tight arm around her as he walked her to the jet at a leisurely stroll.
“Hey now,” he said, “let’s get a few things straight. This is going to be a very calm, sophisticated, sedate girls’ getaway. Maybe some spa time and pampering. A glass or two of wine.” As they stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the jet, he kissed her hard and ended with a stern warning. “And no exotic dancers.”
Smiling, Alex released her, swatting her playfully on the butt as she booked it up the stairs.
Paco joined her at the cabin doorway and called out to Alex with a big grin. “Spa time. Overflowing booze. Strippers galore. Got it!” He saluted sharply.
Narrowing his eyes, Alex shouted back over the roar of the engines. “It’s mighty convenient that you’re one of the girls when we could really use you.”
Madison and Paco exchanged a devilish look before he shouted back.
“The lines have been drawn. Queens rule!”
With that, they ducked inside and the stairs closed behind them. The jet bound for fun and excitement in the City of Light taxied, and from her buttery-soft leather seat, Madison watched Alex through the small window until the plane took off.
Two
Drake Global Industries
Singapore Headquarters
Despite the oversized conference table, Alex sat just one chair from Mr. Chang, whose first name was nearly impossible for most Westerners to pronounce, a consequence of one too many x’s in the mix. So for most, he went by the easier moniker Jeff.
Unchallenged by Mandarin, Alex never had an issue with Chang’s first name, but both men naturally gravitated to calling each other by their last names. They shared an easy camaraderie, two men who’d separately climbed the ranks of wealth and status through the valley of corporate warfare, one low crawl at a time.
Their respect was instant, and to this day, was very much shared. Which made an adversarial spin on their relationship impossible. But it was fun to try.
Alex tapped a finger to the polished mahogany table. “You’ve been keeping secrets, Chang.”
Chang’s humble grin was always endearing, but he didn’t disagree. “We all do, Drake.”
Casually, Chang poured the tea into traditional undersized cups. They each admired the swirl of steam lifting from their oolong before taking a sip.
Giving Alex an inscrutable look, Chang said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Smiling, Alex enjoyed this. Mirroring his expression, so did Chang. The game was well understood. Love was love, but business was business. Chang nailed it. Their livelihood and security were only as good as the secrets they locked away.
From his inside breast pocket, Alex extracted a small plastic card. The crest on the bottom made the random, ordinary keycard distinctive and specific—a golden Merlion, the symbol of Singapore.
With an indifferent glance, Chang shrugged. Undeterred, Alex slid it closer to his counterpart.
Picking it up, Chang flipped it back and forth. “It’s an access card. The design is still widely used today across a vast range of companies. Corporate empires. Hotels. We've even used it, I don’t know, ten . . . twelve years ago, perhaps.”
“That’s the right time frame,” Alex said under his breath.
Chang’s company, now known as DGI Singapore, wasn't new when it entered the DGI fold. It was an acquisition, the first of many that had grown Alex’s corporation worldwide.
Grasping at straws, Alex asked, “Back then, was it connected with any special project? Military, or something covert? Dangerous?”
The uncertain fog in Chang’s eyes lifted, replaced with a glint of recollection. “Ah.” Clasping his hands, he leaned in. “Do you believe in ghost stories, Drake?”
Assuming Chang was referring to the mystery surrounding Jack’s mission-related murder a decade ago, Alex schooled his features and relaxed in his chair, crossing an ankle over his other knee.
Jack being Madison’s brother wasn't the only reason Alex was deeply invested in this conversation. The attack had nearly cost him and Paco their lives, and devastated the Taylor family in the aftermath. They all needed answers, and he prayed that Chang had something of substance to offer.
“Well, my life’s been haunted by this mystery for a decade, so let’s go with yes.”
Nodding, Chang lowered his voice, unusually careful with it being just the two of them in the room. “I think you’re looking for Yōulíng Láng.”
“Yōulíng Láng.” Alex repeated Chang’s pronunciation perfectly. The phrase barely challenged his repertoire. Aloud, he translated the meaning of the two words. “Ghost wolf?”
With a somber nod, Chang looked on with regret. “I don’t know much. We don’t keep records . . . intentionally. My first encounter was as a soldier. My team was deployed to find an operative that had gone missing.” His head dropped. “And we did. We found our man.”
Alex poured him more tea, empathizing with the pain his friend was dredging up. “You don’t have to—”
“You need to know what lies ahead.” Taking a breath, Chang continued. “The torture our man went through was extensive. Unnecessarily so. This wasn’t a matter of mere information extraction.” Chang’s eyes locked with Alex’s in somber understanding. “And it was only a few miles outside the city. How do you say it? The bastard had balls.”
Retrieving the card and tapping it on the table, Alex asked, “Why does this card make you think it was the Ghost Wolf?”
“Over the years, I’ve seen his handiwork. I’ve chased him the way people chase Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, in my spare time, and very careful about the resources I throw at the search. Because . . .”