He led her over to the stairs of the plane, determined to figure out who had kidnapped them. He vowed to put the perpetrators into prison for the rest of their miserable lives, and then figure out how to once again break through the cold, emotionless demeanor of Calista.
The cold, ice princess was back, and he didn’t like it! Not one damn bit!
He looked over at his guards. The lead guard nodded and Goran acknowledged the silent signal, letting him know that the trap was in place. He and his guards, along with several of Astir’s intelligence agents, had worked out a plan. They would lure the culprits out of hiding, one way or another.
Now he just had to put the plan into motion.
Ned muttered a string of expletives as he watched the television screen. The same clip had played over and over again on the news. Sheik Goran el Istra and Princess Calista del Taran had reappeared looking happy and healthy, without a care in the world. The news was talking about how the couple had escaped the public for a few days to get to know one another. There had been no mention of a kidnapping or assassination plot.
Was this good or bad news? Ned was pretty sure that he was screwed. It was only a matter of time before his participation in the plot to kidnap the leader of Skyla was discovered. Since Ned wasn’t simply a participant, he was the mastermind, the punishment would be even more severe.
“Are you gonna make a run for it?”
Ned spun around, startled by the presence of Petro. Again. How the hell did the man move so silently? It was like the man was a freaking ghost!
“Why the hell would I get out of here?” Ned demanded, even though that had been his plan. He wasn’t going to announce that to anyone though. Ned was very aware of what had happened to Jeffrey What’s-His-Name, the guy who had failed before in Skyla! No way was Ned setting himself up for that kind of retribution for failure!
Petro shrugged. “Whatever.” Ned watched the man, wanting to punch his smug face. But Ned wasn’t suicidal. Punching a man like Petro was like asking to be stabbed in his sleep. Petro wouldn’t put a knife to one’s heart though. Nope, a man like Petro Zinhaden would stab a man in the stomach and leave him to die a long, slow, painful death. Even if a person survived one of Petro’s stabbings, their body would be so damaged, life wouldn’t be worth living.
“Your funeral,” Petro admonished, then turned and walked out.
“Hey!” Ned called out. “Why did you come to see me?”
Petro stopped at the flap to the “door”. He turned, his hands still in his pockets as he said, “I can’t remember.”
Ned knew that answer was bullshit! Whatever it was, Ned suspected that it had been important.
Unfortunately, Ned didn’t have time to figure out what the other man was hiding. None of the men Ned had hired to kidnap Sheik el Istara were answering his calls. That alone was terrifying news. But the team of mercenaries that Ned had more recently hired to infiltrate one of the resorts they suspected the sheik was hiding out in had gone silent as well.
He glanced at the news video on his laptop, muttering several more curses. Now the bastard was walking down the stairs at the airport, looking better than ever?
Yeah, Ned’s life was done.
Unless he was very smart and very fast, he thought. Rubbing a hand over the rough stubble on his jawline, Ned considered his options. He had a backup plan. He’d learned from Jeffrey’s mistakes!