Chapters (37)
- Cover
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Chris Ryan Readers’ Club?
- Letter from Author
- About the Author
They sheared off to the left and approached a Gulfstream business jet resting on the pan. The airstairs were in the lowered position. A long-legged woman in a bright pink flight attendant’s uniform and black pumps stood at the bottom of the steps, a pink scarf wrapped like a collar around her neck.
‘Remember the story,’ said Mallet. ‘Six rented this jet through a private company. The one we’re supposed to be working for. As far as this lot is concerned, we’re five high-powered execs going on a luxury trip to the French Riviera to enjoy some fine dining.’
Bowman nodded his understanding. He’d flown on deniable ops before with the Wing. The security services didn’t own private planes. They were too expensive to operate and spent too much time idle on the ground to justify the taxpayer expense. Far cheaper, and more convenient, to lease them privately through one of the dozens of front businesses MI6 operated. The companies themselves were untraceable, their ownership structures hidden behind a web of offshore shell companies.
The Caravelle pulled up alongside the Gulfstream, the side door flew open and the team snatched their bags and scrambled out. The attendant stepped forward from the stairs and flashed a pearly white smile at the team as she greeted them. She had the enthusiasm of a make-up counter assistant and the perfumed scent to match.
‘My name is Calypso,’ she said. ‘I’ll be looking after you today.’
Loader winked at her. ‘You can look after me any time you want, sweetheart.’
She smiled politely. ‘Do you have any special requests for your flight?’
‘Not today,’ Mallet said brusquely.
‘This way, sir.’
They ascended the steps, passed the galley and entered a main cabin divided into three salons. There was a lot of soft leather on display, a lot of polished wood and luxury furnishings. Enough seating to accommodate a dozen passengers. A flat-screen TV mounted on a credenza in the middle section of the cabin. A conference table, a minibar stocked with bottled water and soft drinks. There was a separate office at the front of the cabin equipped with a printer, fax machine, shredder and ultra-fast Wi-Fi, the attendant said. Everything a business executive needed.
If this op does go pear-shaped, thought Bowman, at least Six is sending us off in style.