27. Those Who Know Us Best

By the time Winter arrived at the airfield, the jet that Claire had commissioned to pick him up was already waiting and idling on the tarmac.

"Are you sure you can be here alone?" the officer asked as he rushed out of the car.

Winter nodded and pointed his head toward the plane. "Yes," he replied. "I'll do customs on board the plane. Thank you so much for the ride." He frowned in concern. "Will you be okay heading back? It was a firestorm back there."

"Part of our job," the officer said, but fear was written across his face. He looked at his car. "I don't know how you ended up in this mess, but get out of here as soon as you can."

Winter let out a long breath. "Yes, sir."

The officer seemed like he was already regretting leaving his team for so long. He looked at him a second longer. "Your manager meeting you here?" he asked.

"No. Claire's still in Singapore. She wants me out first. She's staying at the embassy for now."

"Right." Still, the officer wouldn't leave. Instead, he lingered.

Winter felt the tension building in his chest. He gave the man as polite a smile as he could. "I'll be all right," he reassured him. "Truly."

The officer shook his head. "I'm not about to be on the news for leaving you here on your own. Hurry up and get on board."

Winter silently cursed the man's sense of responsibility. He glanced quickly around the airfield, looking for any evidence of Sydney and Tems approaching. But he saw nothing.

Then, to his surprise, the plane's door swung open, and Dameon poked his head out. He caught sight of Winter and came hurrying down the steps.

"I didn't think you'd make it!" he said as he headed over to him. He nodded once respectfully at the officer, who gave him a hesitant nod in return. "Thank you, sir. We've been waiting for a while. The pilot kept asking where you were."

"There was trouble at the border," Winter said, giving the officer a meaningful look. "Can we really fly out from here?"

Dameon nodded. "If we leave soon. Did you call Claire? I can't reach her."

"Cell towers are all jammed in Singapore." He looked at his phone. "Might work here, though."

At the approach of Dameon, the officer had seemed to relax in his stance a little. He lingered a moment longer, awkwardly, then finally decided that it would be a good time for him to take his leave. He tipped his hat at Winter.

"All right," he said. "Stay safe, Mr. Winter."

Winter gave him a bow of his head. "You too," he said.

The officer looked at him one more time, then at the plane, then at the airfield. At last, he adjusted his hat and jogged back to his vehicle.

"You're safe," Dameon said, relief obvious in his voice. "I really thought we weren't going to find you in all the chaos."

Winter stepped toward him into a brief embrace. As he did, he watched the police car continue down the road, kicking up a cloud of dust until it finally turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Again, he found himself looking around for any signs of Sydney's arrival. No luck.

"If I'd gotten really desperate," Winter said with a single laugh against Dameon's shoulder, "I would've just stood in the middle of the street and called for help."

Dameon laughed at that, too. But when Winter stepped back from their hug, Dameon's eyes searched his, a new light of recognition in them.

"So we can follow the mob of fans?" he asked. "Or so that your other team could come get you?"

Winter stilled, brows furrowing in confusion. "What team?" he said.

Dameon put his hands in his pockets. "Winter, you know what I mean."

His heart began to hammer. "I honestly don't," he replied. But he could see the truth reflected in the boy's eyes, that uncanny ability to know everything about him, and in a flash, he knew that Dameon had figured him out.

Dameon gave him a sidelong look.

"Ashley Miller isn't really Ashley Miller, is she?" he said. "And she's not really here as your contracted bodyguard."

Winter shook his head again. This had been a lesson from Sydney, too, that when under suspicion, he needed to stick to his story at all costs. "No, she is," he said. "On both counts." He looked back around the field. "And I really need her to be here right now. She's supposed to arrive at the same time."

"Winter."

Dameon walked around until he faced him, so that Winter could look nowhere else but directly into his friend's eyes. "Winter, before we started on this trip, Claire told me to watch out for you and report back to her."

He blinked. "You've been tailing me?"

"Claire wanted me to stay close to you and make sure everything was okay… without telling you. She's been suspicious for a while now. Your moods during this trip have been… concerning." He shook his head. "I'm sorry for tailing you, but my gut also told me something was off." His voice quieted. "I know you're in danger, and I know it's not just because of this lockdown. So what can you tell me?"

Winter met his gaze and knew that Dameon could see the lie in his eyes, that he had known for a long time, that it was impossible to deny this secret that hung between them. Dameon seemed to notice the recognition in his gaze, because he gave Winter the smallest of nods.

Remember your training.The reminder rushed through Winter's mind and stabbed at his chest. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

"There's nothing to tell," he said. "And I don't appreciate you and Claire keeping things from me."

Dameon studied him without a word. Then he nodded and said in a low voice, "Then let me tell you what I know," he said. "This afternoon, after you headed out, I overheard a conversation at the hotel about you, from two men dressed in business suits. I thought I misheard them at first, because they weren't talking about your concerts or why you were here. They were talking about your bodyguard. They called her Sydney." He narrowed his eyes. "And they weren't discussing her as your bodyguard, either."

Two men in business suits.Winter stilled. "What were they discussing?"

"They were talking about how to get rid of her, how they needed to report back to an agency."

Suddenly, the dread pooling in Winter's stomach vanished, burned away by fear. He stared in silence at Dameon, who met his gaze with a somber nod.

"Who were they?" Winter asked. "What did they look like?"

"White," Dameon replied. "They definitely weren't from Singapore."

"What accent did they have?"

And this time, when Dameon answered, Winter felt the ground beneath him shift.

"American."

Americans.Winter's stomach felt hollowed out. Why would Americans want Sydney dead? Why would Americans be after Panacea, after Niall? Dameon had said they were reporting to an agency. Who were they with?

His mind flashed to the moment when the police officer had told him about the CIA. How they had been cooperating with the Singaporean government, but not with Tems. How Tems couldn't reach them.

"Did you see where those men went?" Winter said.

Dameon crossed his arms. "They took a black car to the gala you attended. I tried calling you, but by then, the entire lockdown had happened, and I couldn't get through. No one could, except Gavi." He held up his hands as Winter opened his mouth. "So when I'm asking you what you know, it's because I can't help you without knowing. Whatever it is that you're involved in—your bodyguard, whoever she really is, is in danger, and so are you." He lowered his voice. "And that doesn't sit so well with me."

Winter closed his eyes. Looked back out at the airfield, to where he finally saw a cloud of smoke approaching from a distance. It was Sydney, and she was on a motorcycle. He took a deep breath.

"You want to know the truth?" he said, looking back at Dameon. "Well, you're about to find out."