Sheikh Defence

Her father’s last words seemed to spin in an endless reel through her mind.

Faisal. She had to call Faisal.

It was her last thought before she passed out in a heap in the middle of the dinghy.

* * *

BEN WASN’T SURE how it had happened. But he’d gotten lucky and landed in the water. He’d just missed hitting his head on the way down. He’d seen Dan fall overboard. But then he’d fallen in himself. It didn’t matter, he’d planned to swim for shore anyway. He’d shot Dan first and he’d gone over a dead man. The yacht was on autopilot, its navigational system dead, heading somewhere out to sea. In other circumstances he might have laughed. It would keep the authorities occupied trying to find the boat.

There was only one threat left and that was the little witch of a daughter Dan had managed to dump in the life raft. There’d been nothing he could do to stop him. It had all happened so fast. He felt a twinge of regret. Now Dan was gone and the yacht was already too far away to be a consideration. He’d raised the anchor before the altercation began.

He swam toward shore. He’d locked in his mind in what direction and how far away they had drifted. Yet, the weather system was moving in faster than had been reported. It was a squall, and that and his aching shoulder had him gulping water and struggling as the weather worsened. Combine the weather with the fact that his clothes weighed him down, and it was rough going. He reached down, wrestling with the laces of his oxfords, finally managing to get them off and tie them to the belt loop of his pants. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He wished he hadn’t had to kill Dan, but once he’d made the decision, he’d accomplished what he’d meant to. He’d shot Dan and he’d fallen overboard. Now there was only one problem he had to resolve before he could become a rich man. The one fly in the ointment was Dan’s daughter. She wasn’t supposed to be on the yacht. Yet, there she’d been like it was her right. He hadn’t liked her the first and only other time he’d met her.

She’d heard too much and she’d injured him. Neither offense could be forgiven. A wave pushed him backward and had him swallowing water. He choked and flipped onto his back, resting, thinking. He had to get to shore and then he had to find Ava Adams, and when he did, the little witch had to die.

Chapter Two

Saturday, June 11

The United States Coast Guard received the first distress call shortly before 0100 hours from BASRA. The acronym stood for the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association. A volunteer association, their resources were stretched with other cases and they were more than willing to request help. Two hours after the information was in the hands of the United States Coast Guard, that information was relayed to the Wyoming branch of Nassar Security.

It had taken that long for the connection between the owner of the yacht, Dan Adams, and Sheik Faisal Al-Nassar to be made. The connection came from the yacht owner’s electronic log that had also provided their last location off the coast of Paradise Island. Dan Adams had included in the log his next destination and purpose. A meeting in Fort Lauderdale with Faisal Al-Nassar.

Faisal was told that the call for help was made on a cell phone. The call lasted exactly nine seconds and then had broken off and been too short to trace. It had been a male caller who had provided only two words, Mayday and Ava. Ava was Dan’s stepdaughter’s name and the other person aboard that yacht. There was no record of anyone else being on the yacht. The call had ended immediately after that.

Faisal couldn’t believe that the father and daughter were missing. He was reminded of how long it had been since he’d spoken to Ava. While her father had remained in contact, he and Ava had lost touch. Still, the father and daughter were considered friends of the family. Now if it had been possible, Faisal would have left to begin the search immediately. But not only did he have to get to the Jackson, Wyoming, airport where they kept the company jet, the pilot had to ready himself and the craft for takeoff. They followed the twenty-minute rule. That was how long it took the pilot to prepare for takeoff.

Faisal glanced at his snowboard with regret. He’d just hung it up after waxing it and preparing it for a trip to Mount Hood in Oregon where there was enough snow to board throughout the year. Now that would have to wait. The thoughts of snowboarding were only a way of grounding himself, by thinking of what he loved, before being immersed in a case that was much too personal.

He brought his attention to the immediate as he called his brother Emir. Emir, the oldest in their family and the head of Nassar Security, was located in their head office, which was situated in Marrakech, Morocco. He knew without question that he could count on Emir to relay the plight of their old friend to the rest of the Al-Nassar family.

“Dan and Ava are lost at sea. The US Coast Guard is deployed as is the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association. Of course, the latter is volunteer. I’m on wing to fly to Florida,” he said abruptly when Emir answered.

“What happened?” Emir asked. “They were on vacation. Last I heard they...” The words ended on an expletive.

“The yacht was last seen just off the coast of Paradise Island, Bahamas. It’s since disappeared off the radar. When I spoke to Dan, he said he was heading to Fort Lauderdale earlier than planned. We had a meeting set up. A change of plans and then they disappear. Is there a connection?” Faisal asked. There was a raw edge to his voice that he made no effort to mute. “Look, I’ve got a plane to catch, I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’ll let the rest of the family know. Dan stuck by us when everyone else thought expanding the business to the United States was a crazy idea. We’ll stick by him now.”

“Definitely,” Faisal said, remembering all Dan had done. The Al-Nassars were an old and revered family in Morocco and Nassar Security was an established business in Marrakech. His family had been anxious to expand and it was partially because of Dan, who had lived in Wyoming at the time, that they had chosen that state. The rest, he knew, had been his own doing. He’d pushed the envelope with his siblings. He loved Wyoming and the wide open spaces. It was where he’d finished his degree. Fresh out of university, he’d been eager to be part of the new venture, especially if he could convince his siblings to choose Wyoming...and he had. He’d loved the new branch from the beginning, particularly because of the challenge. He’d known that in Wyoming his name and status as Sheik Faisal Al-Nassar would not open doors like it did at home. The idea had challenged and excited him. And despite the obstacles, his brothers had agreed—they’d all welcomed the challenge. And so Nassar Security had expanded. Dan had been a mentor to him in the early years.

During that first year of getting a footing in a new country, Dan had been the father that Faisal had lost too young. He shook his head as if that would dislodge memories. He’d never forget how special Dan Adams was to their family. Nor, despite losing touch with her, did he forget how special his daughter had once been to him. In fact, he was reeling more from knowing that Ava too was now considered lost at sea. His mind kept going back to the dark-haired beauty. He’d spent his last year of university with her. He remembered the jokes, the teasing and the parties, and he remembered something else—how she had made him feel.

Three hours later, from one of the Nassar Gulfstream jets, Faisal looked out the window. It was dark and cloudy in the minutes before the sun began to rise. His mind went beyond what he could see to the Atlantic where two people he cared for were now missing.

According to the United States Coast Guard, there had been only one call for help. It was thought to have come from the Adamses’ yacht as that was the only vessel reported missing. They had heard a name but the call had disconnected. There hadn’t been enough to give them a location, nothing. All they had was the name Ava spoken in a male voice.

He pushed back a strand of hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. He should get it cut but there never seemed to be enough time. He’d tried it short but that hadn’t lasted. Ava had once told him that she loved his hair just over the tips of his earlobes and longer if he’d consider it. The latter wasn’t a consideration but the former had stuck in his mind. He’d met her during his senior year in university and they’d become friends. They’d both grown up since then and gone their own ways. That part of his life was long over. At least that’s what he told himself. Except today. He was again faced with the truth. He’d never forgotten her.

“We’ll find them,” he said in an undertone as if saying the words made them somehow more real. Maybe the words made his doubts of success smaller. While the Bahamas were close to the continental United States there was still a lot of ocean to cover. Without coordinates of any kind, they had only guesswork. Despite that and maybe because of it, he was not going to sit around waiting. Dan had planned to see him in Fort Lauderdale—it was up to him to make sure that meeting happened.

His thoughts went back to the last phone call.

Based on what they knew, the Adamses could be anywhere. They were no longer close to Paradise Island’s shoreline. A search by the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association had already exhausted that option. Wherever they were, whatever had happened, the answers were on that yacht.

* * *

AVA ADAMS OPENED her eyes. Her head ached and something deep inside her hurt. That hurt was overshadowing the thumping that seemed to want to break her skull. Yet it wasn’t pain. Not a physical pain but something more emotional. Fear. Anger. She didn’t know what. Instead, she shivered. She was alone and she wasn’t on the yacht. Where was she?

The yacht was gone. She had no idea what had happened to either it or her father. It had disappeared while she’d slipped out of consciousness. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. Nothing held any relevance, not time nor space—nor anything that had happened. All of it was a frightening blur.

The breeze ran light, cool fingers across her damp skin and she shivered. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, all she knew was that she was alone and there was no land in sight. Her head pounded and her vision was blurred. She couldn’t see clearly no matter how hard she tried. She was fighting to remain conscious so that she could make that promised call to get help. Her father was counting on her.

The thought made her prop herself up despite her shaking limbs. She tried not to look at the dark water. There was only a thin layer of rubber and canvas between her and it. She couldn’t think of it any more than she could contemplate the fate of her father. All she knew was that the yacht was gone and with it her father. She didn’t know when it had disappeared or if her father was on board or if he was even alive. She struggled to sit up and the world spun. She took a deep breath and passed out.

The next time she came to, she could see that the sun was higher in the sky. It was behind her and she guessed that she might be heading west. She had no idea what that might mean about where she would end up. Or if she would end up anywhere except maybe at the bottom of the ocean.

Fear threatened to overwhelm her even as her gut knotted along with her fists. Her head spun and she had to fight not to black out again. She needed to think and yet she was fighting not to lose consciousness again. She needed to get help not just for her but for her father. He needed her. He was alone.

That thought collided with another. Was her father alive? She’d heard the gunshot as the life raft had slipped away from the yacht, carried by the ocean current. There had been silence after that as she’d drifted farther away.

The gunshot had echoed long after the actual event. The haunting reminder was like an omen. She could die out here and her father could already be dead. Those scenarios were ones she couldn’t, wouldn’t consider. Not anymore. She refused to think of him as anything but alive—just as she was determined to reach land, one way or another.

She took a deep breath and again she fought to sit up. The life raft rocked, threatening what stability it had as water sloshed in the bottom. She wasn’t sure how it had taken on water unless it had been in those first moments as it had gone from the yacht to sea. The sea had been rough. It hadn’t calmed much since then. It was cloudy and the breeze was picking up, only a bit of sun peeked through the otherwise dreary sky.

She had nothing. She looked down. She was virtually naked. The skimpy sleeping outfit had been a bad choice. Fortunately, her father had thrown his jacket over her. Who would have known that a trip that had begun as a lark would end like this?

It wouldn’t end.

Determination shot through her chilled body. She had too much to do with her life. She had a new career that had yet to begin. Again she repeated that promise to herself and to her father. They would live. He would live. They had to.

Something cold pressed against her hip. She slipped her hand under the waistband of her panties and pulled out her father’s phone. She’d forgotten it was there.

Her heart stopped. She remembered that he’d handed it to her. It was a miracle that it had not dropped to the bottom of the dinghy, into the water that was gathering there.

She held it, the memory of her father handing it to her clear in her mind.

“Call Faisal.”

She knew, as did her father, that if anyone could help them, it was Faisal. He headed the powerhouse investigative company run by his family, Nassar Security. At least he was in charge of their Wyoming branch.

The phone slipped in her damp hands.

* * *

“SHEIK FAISAL,” SHE MURMURED. It was an odd thing to say, to even think. But in the chaos and panic of what had happened, she vaguely remembered what now seemed like so long ago. It had been her senior year of college when she’d first met Faisal. He’d transferred in for that last year. He’d been two years older but she’d been two years ahead of her grade. She’d skipped through grade school in six years instead of eight and skipped kindergarten altogether. Although, the latter didn’t count, she’d been the standard age when she’d entered first grade. Odd memories drifted through her mind. Just the mention of his name brought everything back. She couldn’t move, could only fight to remain conscious and all the while she remembered. She’d teased him about his title of Sheik, and he’d hated having it mentioned. It was strange the places her mind wanted to go when there was so little time. Consciousness could slip away as easily as it had returned.

She gripped the phone with the desperation of the survivor she now was. The phone and a man who had once been a friend, who she had once hoped would be more than just friend, were now her only hope.

The sun beamed down through a break in the clouds and instead of offering hope it only reminded her of the passage of time. It was a reminder that her and her father’s chances of survival decreased with every moment that passed.

She swallowed heavily—the world was graying and beginning to spin. She shut her eyes, focusing on one thing, on remaining conscious at least long enough to get help, to contact someone, to...

Everything blanked out.

She didn’t know for how long or what had happened in the time between awareness and when she opened her eyes again. Like before, all she could see was the ocean. She was in the middle of nowhere and drifting to who knew where. If she thought about it too much she might fall into the abyss and succumb to panic. Her hand slid on the slick bottom of the dingy where water was pooling and was now a quarter inch deep. She could sink if this continued. She took a deep breath. She had to remain calm.

She looked at the phone. It was still in her hand. Had it been there all along? How long had she been out this time? She couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that no more time passed before she called. She pushed a button and the phone’s screen lit up.

“Thank goodness,” she said in a whisper with what seemed the last bit of strength she had. The wind pushed the struggling life raft in a half circle. As the raft shifted direction, she shivered. She didn’t know how long she could stay afloat or where she was. She was dizzy, fighting to stay awake. She had to do this. She clutched the phone as if it were a lifeline, and in a way it was.

She looked at the screen, squinting as her vision blurred. Everything seemed to spin and then stop.

“No,” she whispered. She couldn’t afford to pass out, not before she made this call. Her stomach clenched and her hands shook harder at what was in front of her. But there was no changing the fact that the battery icon was red. Her hand shook harder. She needed to phone now, while there was still some power left. Instead she fainted.

When she came to, the phone was in her lap. She remembered the battery life as if that frightening fact had been etched in her mind. Hopefully there was some juice left and it wasn’t too late. She knew this was her only chance. Without the phone, without this call and a connection there was nothing. Nothing but a hunk of rubber slowly taking on water stood between her and... She couldn’t think of it. She had to remain positive. She had to get hold of Faisal. Her father’s voice telling her to do that wouldn’t leave her head. He’d suggested no one else, just Faisal.

She couldn’t focus, yet she desperately wanted this horror to end. Despite that or because of it, she remembered another time, another place. Faisal. She’d been on the cusp of adulthood and he’d been her everything for such a short time. Now, again he was her everything but in such a different way. He was all that stood between her and death, between her father and death. This time she was counting on him like she never had before.

She took in a shaky breath, pushed herself gingerly up and opened the contacts. She hit Faisal’s number and the screen went black. The battery had run out along with every chance she’d ever had.

Her world started to spin. She tried to force herself to keep conscious and she couldn’t. She slumped sideways as she blacked out. Her last thought was that she was on her own and she didn’t stand a chance. But then the phone hiccupped back to life.

Chapter Three

Saturday, June 11—9:00 a.m.

It had been more than eight hours since the US Coast Guard had received the call from the missing yacht. And despite the time that had passed, they couldn’t pinpoint where the yacht was. They assumed that the vessel’s AIS, Automatic Identification System, a standardized system that would provide the identity, type, position, course, speed, navigational status and other safety-related facts about the vessel, was compromised. Whether that was due to criminal intent or was accidental was yet to be determined.

Faisal had checked the coordinates between Paradise Island and the continental United States. So much could affect the outcome. If it was foul play, that would change everything. If they were suffering engine failure, it could again change everything. And if they were moving under their own steam—doubtful—again, it changed everything. But with nothing to go on, they had to start somewhere.

He glanced over at Craig Vale, the only one of the Nassar team to make this trip with him. Craig was heading north after this to New York to meet up with other members of the tech team. But in the meantime, it was nice to have a researcher on the case. That so rarely happened. They were usually a distant voice via a phone or computer connection.

Faisal shifted his thoughts, focusing on what was ahead. He didn’t like any of it. He was flying into a no-win situation. Yet, despite that, this was what he did and what he thrived on. He might not like it but his adrenaline was kicking in. The personal connection would no longer be at the forefront. In order for this mission to be successful he had to lead with his head, not his heart. It was no different than when his sister, Tara, had been kidnapped. He’d let his oldest brother lead the charge and he’d done the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He’d stayed here, managing their business thousands of miles away from that heartache. In the end, that decision had been the right one. Tara was home and safe.

He dropped the thoughts from his mind. Now, his mind was solely on this case. Rehashing probabilities and possibilities would get him nowhere. In a way, taking the thoughts from his mind, focusing on what was important, was like meditation, which was something he utilized at the beginning of every case. It was a practice he shared with his oldest brother, Emir, and Emir’s wife, Kate, who had introduced him to it. It was something his whole family now practiced. It had made both their business and their family stronger and tighter as a result.

Thoughts of meditation fled as his phone beeped. It was only a notification that they were minutes from landing. He looked out the window of the private jet. Traveling by private jet was one of the many perks that came from wealth. It was also one of many he didn’t give much consideration to. If asked, he would have admitted that he was privileged, lucky in the manner of his birth. It wasn’t something he ever discussed or thought about. It was a fact that had always been. That part of his life, his family’s inherited wealth and status, had been unchanging. He’d been born into wealth that had accrued over generations. It was what he’d always known. But it was this part, Nassar Security and his position as head of the Wyoming branch, that allowed him to play out his dreams of adventure. He couldn’t imagine that anyone had a better life and there wasn’t a day that he wasn’t grateful.

Today was different. Today he faced a tragedy that could touch every member of his family. His phone rang, breaking into his thoughts. He froze and his heart leaped despite his training, which usually allowed him to maintain a cool facade. He held the phone for a split second for Craig to see. It wasn’t a number he recognized. What unknown caller would phone now? He didn’t believe in coincidence and yet he answered, praying to hear Dan’s or Ava’s voice.

Silence and something else. There was a sound that was as recognizable as it was disturbing. It was the sound of waves lapping against a dock or the bow of a boat.

Craig nodded, his blond ponytail bobbing where it skimmed over his collar. His nod confirmed the suspicion they had both had. His full pouty lips seemed at odds with a strong jaw. It was as if nature hadn’t been sure if it was creating a tough guy or pretty boy. Either way, these conflicting traits belied his thirty-five years and made him look more like twenty.

They both held their breath, hoping the connection would hold, that they could get a trace.

“Hello,” he repeated. “Dan?” There was nothing, only silence. The only surety they had was Craig’s confirmation that this was Dan’s number, but was it Dan? What were the odds that the search would begin on a lucky note? On finding a survivor before they’d even landed?

“Who are you? Tell me.” He kept talking, hoping to keep the connection going.

He could hear something that sounded like the crash of a wave. It was different from the first one. This time it was rather like when one wave rolls down into another that is just building to a crest. It was a sound he was familiar with having spent time on a yacht with his family as a child.

He listened closely. He barely dared to breathe, as if even that might drown out other sounds, other clues. He heard what sounded like a soft breath. It wasn’t much but what he’d heard sounded feminine. Feminine and indistinguishable.

The sound of water, the pattern of waves and the call of a seagull. Then there was nothing, only silence.

“Hello.” He wasn’t willing to give up. “Ava? Dan?” He didn’t know if it was either of them. He was only taking a chance and betting on the odds against the fact that it could be anyone else. There’d been two people registered as leaving the dock in that boat.