Walter Nash was jolted awake. The jet he was on en route to Hong Kong had encountered some rough air. He turned to see his employer, Rhett Temple, sitting next to him.
Nash’s now alert gaze then moved to Lynn Ryder, who was asleep in a forward seat on the privately owned plane soaring westward toward Asia. Ryder was in her thirties with long white hair that was either colored or natural, he didn’t know which. She was also an emissary for Victoria Steers, one of the most ruthless criminals in the world. They were currently aboard Steers’s jet and were traveling to see the woman, at her behest.
He next glanced out the window, and reflected back was his image. That spurred Nash to reflect on his life over the last year and a half. He used to be a mild-mannered, law-abiding business execu- tive, tall and skinny, with no discernible muscle, a full head of hair, and nary a tattoo within a mile of him. Out of necessity Nash had shaved his head, grown facial hair, and transformed himself into a muscled, tatted, fighting machine, complete with a new identity: Dillon Hope, personal security expert. No one—not even his wife, Judith—now recognized him.
He had gone from reviewing business plans and acquiring com- panies and flying on corporate jets, with not a whiff of intrigue or danger in his life, to playing a deadly game of cat and mouse and having to fool everyone around him into believing he really was Dillon Hope. Because he knew that Lynn Ryder and Victoria Steers wanted nothing more than to kill Walter Nash.
I truly am living in the upside down world. And I seriously doubt I will ever get back to my world. But I have got to see this through.
He turned to Temple, the CEO of Sybaritic Investments, Nash’s former employer. The man had been across the aisle when Nash first shut his eyes, and Nash wondered why he had changed seats. It was a small detail, but Nash sensed that seemingly trivial acts clearly mattered right now.
As Dillon Hope, Nash had dexterously placed himself in a posi- tion to be employed as his old boss’s personal bodyguard. The ruse had worked, and Nash’s life had changed to an even greater extent, as he was now firmly residing in the enemy’s camp.
Speaking in the slow, deliberate tone he had adopted as Hope’s voice, Nash said, “Is there a problem?”
Temple replied quietly, “Look, Dillon, it’s delicate, but Victoria Steers is not, well, completely on the up-and-up.”
“Okay,” said Nash cautiously. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“She’s…well, dangerous. And I don’t want you to slip up and getyourself in trouble when you meet her.”
Nash thought it far more likely that Temple didn’t want Nash to slip up and get him in trouble with the villainous Steers.
Though he well knew the answer, Nash asked, “Exactly how is she not on the up-and-up and dangerous?”
“She’s into drug distribution on a global scale. And she has peo- ple killed.”
Nash stared back in feigned astonishment at his boss. Then, in keeping up the subterfuge that he had no idea who Steers was, he asked, “What the hell, Mr. Temple? Why is a rich guy like you involved with her?”
“It’s a long story, Dillon. My father…he was working with her to recoup his fortune and he got me involved. I wish I had an out, but I don’t. I really don’t. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“So she wants to meet? Why?”
Temple leaned in closer and said in a near whisper, “The FBI has, well, tried to make some inroads at my company, finding a mole—a spy there, so to speak.”
Nash let his jaw go slack. “The FBI! Jesus, Mr. Temple, I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come,” said a voice.
Both men looked up to see Ryder awake and staring at them from her seat. She had obviously overheard at least part of their conversation.
She walked down the aisle until she was standing in front of them. “In fact, as I made very clear, I did not want you to come.”
Nash glanced at Temple before saying, “As his personal security guard, I insisted on coming because I was concerned with Mr. Temple’s safety. But, frankly, I might have declined if I had known all the facts.”
Ryder gave Temple a withering look as she said to Nash, “And now that you have been provided some facts, we will see what hap- pens when we arrive in Hong Kong.”
She walked back to her seat.
Temple glanced at Nash. “Dillon, I’m sorry you got caught up in all this. I really am.”
He returned to his seat, where he closed his eyes and started tak- ing deep, calming breaths.
Nash looked out the window, his thoughts as black as the darkness outside.
Well, Nash, this might be the end of you. But if I go down, I’m taking others with me. Starting with Victoria Steers.
