"How long do I have?"
"Be ready in about an hour." Lokan set down the phone and walked over to his private bathroom, locking the door behind him.
His go-bag was hidden in the ceiling tiles—cash in multiple currencies, his crypto keys, and several passports for him and Carol with different identities. Everything fit inside a single leather satchel.
In his private quarters, which were adjacent to the office, he changed clothes, trading his business suit for a pair of dark jeans and a cashmere sweater. Comfortable for travel, but still expensive enough to fit his image. The suit went back into the closet.
Back in his office, he made a show of gathering files, his laptop, and various business documents.
His assistant knocked and entered, holding printed airline tickets. "The 7:45 flight to Milan via Munich," he said. "First class was fully booked, but I managed to secure two business class seats together. The layover is long, though, six hours."
That was perfect.
"Excellent work." Lokan made a mental note to have money transferred to Hai's account once they were safe. The guy had been a good assistant, efficient and discreet. "I'll need you to handle things here while I'm gone."
Hai dipped his head. "Of course, sir."
Lokan found his bodyguards in their usual spots, one by the elevator and one by the stairwell. Professional, alert, and completely unaware they were guarding someone who'd been feeding intelligence to their greatest enemy for years.
"We are leaving in an hour," Lokan announced. "Urgent business in Milan."
Gandel, the senior of the two, frowned. "This is sudden."
"I have to save this deal or we go under. We invested heavily in new equipment to take on this order. I need to charm Francesca in person."
"Is Carol going with you?" Samir asked.
"Naturally. Now stop asking questions and go pack your things. We don't have much time."
The guards exchanged glances. They were good soldiers, trained to follow protocol, but Lokan was their boss, and even thoughthey reported to Navuh, technically they were supposed to answer to him.
"The car will be here in forty-five minutes." He checked his watch with apparent impatience.
Lokan returned to his private apartment and began packing. Most of his belongings were at Carol's, and she knew what to pack for him, but he needed to maintain appearances and get to the car with at least a carry-on.
His bodyguards were down in the garage already, waiting by the car, and as he rode down in the elevator, he thought about the plan he'd memorized for months.
Milan was a feint, of course. They'd never make it past Munich. But the guards would continue to Milan without them, controlled by his thrall and compulsion. They would stay in the hotel and pretend that Lokan and Carol were there, maintaining the ruse for as long as possible.
His guards were standing by his gleaming black Mercedes. He'd miss it, oddly enough. Two years of driving Beijing's chaotic streets, Carol beside him, laughing at his cursing in languages no one else understood.
When he pulled up into the garage of her building she was already waiting, a vision in designer clothes and carefully applied makeup, every inch the successful businesswoman. Two Louis Vuitton suitcases and a matching carry-on stood to attention beside her.
"Darling," Carol purred as he stepped out of the car and opened the door for her. "This is terribly inconvenient. I hope Milan is worth missing the gala."
"I'll make it up to you," he promised, playing his part.
When they were seated in the car, he turned around and looked at his bodyguards, and after implanting a thought in both of their minds to go to sleep, he watched them slump in their seats.
Thankfully, the two weren't particularly strong-minded, so his thralling and compulsion worked on them to some extent. It wouldn't be as strong or last as long as it would on humans, but it would still do the job.
Leaning over, he planted a kiss on Carol's mouth. "It finally happened. We are going home."
A brilliant smile spread over her face. "It was time to go. I don't know what prompted the emergency evacuation, but I'm glad."
He put the car in gear and drove out. "Kian is convinced that my father is hiding things from me, which means he suspects me of being disloyal."
Carol frowned. "He's been suspecting that for a long time. What has changed?"
