Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Flying private had to be the epitome of luxury travel.

An experience where every touch point was tailored to your desires and where extravagance was the norm.

Not her norm,Cece thought, awestruck as Ash led her into the gunmetal grey nine-seater jet waiting for them at Ballina Airport.

‘It’s a Phenom 300,’ Ash said, geeking out for a moment.

‘Please explain?’

His lips twitched. ‘It’s the best light jet you can fly. Even better, its ramp presence is sexy.’

She raised a brow in amusement at his word choice.

He served her with a chin jerk. ‘Y’know, stylish, slick, light and fast.’

‘Amen to that.’

She scanned around her as she settled into the black and walnut two-tone leather, club-style seats. They came with baseball stitching, and each had a fold-out wood-varnished table. Supple leathers and matched fabrics finished off the exotic wood inlays.

She stretched her feet in a space created with superior comfort and exceptional ergonomics in mind.

Across from her, Ash adjusted his seat to accommodate his length. He sat back, unpacked his laptop, slid on reading glasses and started working.

The conversation they’d just shared was the most chatty he’d been all day.

He was brooding. His melancholy mood hung over him even when he’d accompanied her to pick the boys up from school. He’d let her tell the delighted pair they were spending the night together.

‘Really?’ This, from an excited Jake.

‘Maybe even the following one.’ Cece made the statement, flicking a glance to Ash for confirmation. He nodded.

‘Yes!’

Jake and Mace said it at the same time, giving each other high fives.

The unexpected sleepover had both boys in paroxysms of delight. They didn’t waste a breath before making plans to run riot across the farm.

With his mother’s blessing, Ash drove the plotting pair to the sprawling estate. While Cece stayed home, repacking a smaller roll-on suitcase to go.

She called Rachel at work and gave her a vague explanation of her absence. ‘I need to fly to Sydney for personal reasons.’

‘Of course. I hope it goes well.’

Next, she called Denise. Who also wished her the best and promised her work could wait so she could sort her life out.

The people at Falcon House rocked,Cece thought.

She’d miss them all if she quit her job.

She sighed, knowing she couldn’t leave only based on Ash’s sins. Walking away from such a great workplace would not be a smart move.

Right now, though, there were more pressing matters to keep her mind occupied.

Like how Sydney and Liam were going to play out.

Ash returned from the farm, still reticent, picking her up from her Falcon House Farm. Cece chose to ignore the perplexing presence of the man beside her.

Instead, she slid into his truck and made zero attempts at conversing as they headed for the airport.

Cece marvelled that she didn’t have to navigate long security lines or weave through busy airport terminals. Instead, a discreet client flight manager called Renee greeted them. She catered to their every need, allowing them to bypass the usual hassles of air travel.

Check-in at the private airport was simple - showing their ID before being led to the runway just ten minutes after they arrived.

And now here they were, rising into the air.

Ash sat across the aisle from her, leaning over his laptop. His face, in profile, was screwed into a frown of concentration as he absorbed the data on his screen.

The glasses, which were a revelation to her, only made him more devastating.

The man was drop-dead gorgeous, no doubt.

Who else wore sweatpants and a white tee and still looked like a Greek god?

Both clung to his body and showed the defined musculature of his arms and chest.

The hand that tapped on the laptop mesmerised her. She flushed, recalling what those lean fingers had done to her, how rough they’d been on her hot skin.

She glanced away from him, needing to simmer down.

The cabin, to her relief, was conditioned. Cool, compressed air blew throughout the interior, making every breath crisp and clean. She turned on a vent and pointed it at herself, letting the cold blast chill her desire.

Their unseen pilot, Captain Marco Firelli, introduced himself over the speakers and welcomed them onboard.

When they levelled out, the seat belt signs turned off, and a flight attendant, a lady named Dana, offered a light meal or refreshments.

‘Eat.’

Ash’s command was a growl. He wasn’t a man used to being disobeyed.

Cece mulled his logic and agreed with it. She had no idea when her next meal would be. So she accepted the offer of a sandwich and tea.

Ash’s food arrived, and he tucked into a caramelised medium rare steak with a light salad and a glass of wine.

He caught her gaping at his plate and used his fork to point at it. ‘Want what I’m having?’

‘It’s not that I want it. It’s that I can order it.’

The ends of his lips turned up. ‘The Phenom’s chefs have a knack for creating the best dishes. Restaurant quality, babe.’

Babe.

The word was back again. He said it with such intensity and vibrato that she melted—and scrabbled for the air vent again.

When she settled down, she decided to dig for more background on him. ‘Such an enigma.’

‘What is?’

‘You. On the one hand, you’re a plumber, slash farmer, slash hotel owner. On the other, an MI6 slash SAS-type operative swinging through the skies in a private plane. Who are you?’

His mouth twitched at the playful lilt in her voice. ‘I’m usually good at keeping all aspects of my life separate. Until you. You’re blurring my well-defined edges.’

‘How do you do it all?’

‘I don’t. I just hire the best people like yourself to make it happen.’

‘Now you’re trying too hard to get into my good books.’

They exchanged a smile, the glint in his eye signalling it was not all he wanted to get into.

‘Here’s to you.’ He raised his glass.

She glanced at her fine china cup. ‘Is tea OK for a toast?’

He shook his head. ‘Doesn’t cut it. At least try a whisky from my distillery?’

She raised a brow. ‘Distillery now?’

‘Falcon By The Sea makes some of the best signature tipples on the East Coast.’

‘I must try some then.’

He touched a button, and Dana bustled to help. She soon returned with a tumbler for Cece filled with amber gold nectar.

She tasted it, her eyes widening in delight, every sip a celebration of indulgence. Further enhancing her not-so-humble Wagyu beef steak sandwich. Every bite she took was pure bliss.

Ash reached out his glass, clinked it with hers and returned to his meal.

Dana whisked their food trays away after they were done eating.

Cece took the opportunity to lower her backrest.

She stretched out and relaxed in the generous space as if in the comfort of her home. Sinking further into the lush leather seats, she noticed the soft ambient lighting dim to set the mood for relaxation.

Ash must have sensed her enjoyment. He turned his head from his screen and gave her a half smile before looking at his screen again.

His warming unnerved her.

She knew and could deal with the cool, taciturn, abrupt version of the man.

What she was suss about was a thawing Ash.

He wasn’t overdoing it, but still, her hackles were up.

Who was the true Ash? The real man? Was he the dedicated father with a ready smile and endless patience for his son and friends? The lover who drove her wild? The cool-headed businessman with killer instincts? Or the ruthless soldier with no qualms protecting those in need?

Ash pulled his eyes away from Cece and tried to focus on the screen swimming before his eyes.

She sighed, stretched out in her seat and settled into a reclined position, head turned away from him.

He leaned back, pretending to work. His thoughts, though, scattered, tangled in all of her.

He felt like shit for not trusting her, for treating her like the enemy.

Regret flooded his entire being.

He knew he’d had to lean on the evidence at the time to make an assessment. It still didn’t negate his shame for being such a bastard to her.

He turned his eyes back to her, unable to resist.

He lingered on her profile.

Drinking in the lush curls that tumbled across her shoulder. On the neck, he’d buried himself in when he’d made love to her.

On her golden skin, her curves, hips, thighs, and legs in faded denim. To her feet in a pair of sneakers, a step down from the heels he loved on her.

Yet the trainers took nothing away from her beauty.

He yearned for a second chance to prove to her just how much he’d be wrong, how he’d come to respect her despite the false evidence against her.

How her sweetness and gentle heart were capturing his.

The image of why he’d fought her so hard came crashing into his mind.

Slade. Crawling towards him, bleeding out, legs blown, as dust, wind and thirty gun-toting radicals separated them.

Followed by a final explosion, flames, searing heat, the roar of engines, and an eventual blackout.

Almost two decades ago, he’d opened his eyes in a field hospital to find that one of his closest friends had disappeared without a trace.

All because ex-Major General Joseph Mirren ordered a retreat.

This was the real reason Ash had it in for the retired man, why he was so sore and bitter even after fifteen years.

While Ash projected courage and stoicism in his daily life, the ghost of his missing friend haunted him at night.

He’d never accepted that Slade had died.

Not after he’d found out Joseph Mirren made pacts with the Czechs and Afghan warlords. Deals to send his men into ambushes, thinking they were genuine targets on key enemy positions. Mirren had then covered up his crimes in an act of treason.

Ash suspected Slade had uncovered the general’s secret while out on patrol. He’d most likely been targeted by the militia on orders from Joseph.

His body had never been recovered.

Ash’s hunch that his fellow soldier and best friend was alive only firmed up as time passed. He grew convinced Slade was in the wild, captured and alone.

He’d no proof of it, no factual evidence. Just a gut feeling deep in his bones.

Ash had mired himself in work to deal with his loss over the years.

In the back-breaking labour of remodelling Falcon House, extending the farm and setting up the distillery. The busyness a shield from the pain.

He hid his grief, not behind a torrent of tears, but through his evasion of discussing Slade with his friends.

While scouring the earth and any leads from the general’s crimes to try and find his mate.

If he ever faced Joseph Mirren again, he intended to interrogate him. To push him to his knees if need be, to get the answers he needed.

His stepdaughter, though, was now off limits.

Ash’s anger against Cece had dissipated earlier that day, replaced with a desire to make up for his actions towards her. To reassure her and reinstate any shred of trust she had for him.

He reached out and lifted a plush blanket from a compartment before him.

Moving, he set it over her with a gentle touch. She’d fallen asleep and didn’t stir.

He spent a few seconds gazing at her face before settling back down.

His internal gears shifted, analysing how best to un-fuck the damage and pain he’d caused her.

The jet descended, the change in air pressure and speed waking Cece.

She set aside the blanket someone had laid over her and sat up to look out of the window. The skies were clear. As the plane flew in from the north, she got a fantastic panorama of Sydney from the air.

The harbour, with its dozens of inlets, was magnificent. The views over the metro skyline, the iconic Opera House and Sydney Harbour Bridge, breathtaking.

They set off in her a pang of nostalgia for the windy city.

She remembered her summer walks through Hyde Park to the Art Gallery and Royal Botanical Gardens, where she’d spent many happy Saturdays wandering its lush pathways with the smell of jasmine in the air. She’d always end her escapes with an ice cream from the gelato stands close to Circular Quay.

Her life here as a single woman had been the best of times.

As a young mum, however, being alone and afraid with a young child had made it the worst of times.

Those days were behind her now, and she now had a new home in which to make happier memories. Or so she hoped.

She turned, and her eyes met a heated jade gaze.

‘We’re landing soon.’

‘I gathered as much.’

She sat up as the pilots made a smooth and uneventful touchdown.

Ash rose to his feet, letting Cece disembark first.

He had their bags in hand in moments and led her into a waiting late-model, black Range Rover SUV parked by the tarmac.

As the airport valet packed their bags inside the rear cabin, Ash got behind the wheel and turned to Cece. ‘Got that address for your brother?’

She nodded.

‘Punch it in.’

He indicated she input it into the car’s InControl screen, which she did.

Their journey unfolded on LCD as Ash eased the SUV away from the airport.

Ash raced along the highway towards Liam’s Coogee address.

He drove with one hand. He used the other to tap on the InControl screen of the SUV, now connected to his phone.

The call was picked up.

‘Saint, buddy, on our way to Coogee. Are you fellas able to give me some backup?’

‘When do you need it?’

He checked the dash clock. ‘In twenty. Max half an hour.’

‘Sure.’ The deep voice washed through the speakerphone, reverberating in the air. ‘I’ll swing in from Bondi now. Send me the address.’

‘Will do. We might have company.’

‘All good. I’ll bring Tiny with me. Nothing we can’t handle.’

Ash chuckled. ‘And bring some lead. I travelled clean. See you soon.’

Cece shot the man beside her a panicked look as the connection ended.

Ash flicked her a glance. ‘Chill. We’ve got this.’

‘I hadn’t counted on violence.’

‘Purely precautionary, babe.’

Her eyes widened at the use of the endearment. She gave him another glance, wanting to probe his use of it.

He’d already turned his chiselled profile away from her. His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses he’d donned to help keep out the bright sun lowering itself in the sky.

She let it slide, sensing this was not the time for delicate conversations.

Twenty minutes later, Ash approached the address.

It was set in a row of tiny workman’s townhouses clustered together on the humbler end of the trendy beachside suburb.

He circled the block—parking behind some cars on the opposite side of the street. Tall palm trees and tall, spiky plants lined the road.

Ash killed the engine.‘This is it.’

He texted a short message a moment later.

A few minutes later, a reply pinged back.

‘Saint will be here soon. Gives us time to see what we’re dealing with.’

Cece studied at the house corresponding to the address Liam gave her. It was close enough for her to make out its details.

The facade of the brown townhouse was tired, the paint peeling off in sheets. The garden was overrun with weeds, and a single chair on the patio lay on its side. From the look of the place, it had seen better days.

The sun had another hour or so to go before it set, but already, lights streamed from inside houses further down and across the street.

A late model SUV pulled up at the corner. Cece saw a silhouette step out and melt into the shadows.

Moments later, a soft knock sounded on her window, and she almost jumped out of her skin.

‘It’s just Saint. Roll down, babe.’

She obeyed using the electric button.

The tinted glass descended. To reveal a devastatingly handsome part Maori man with a shaven head and a guarded look on his chiselled face.

He wore a tight black tee and pants, his massive arms covered in tribal tattoos.

‘Got company.’ The rumble of his voice reverberated through the car.

He jerked his chin at a blue sedan a few cars away at a diagonal. ‘Across the street. Amateurs because they have a lens aimed at Liam’s location, but they’re fast asleep behind the wheel.’

Ash took note. ‘Keep an eye on them; if they get jumpy, let me know.’

Saint inclined his head in understanding, lifting his arm to hand over a small duffel bag. Ash reached across Cece for it. He brushed her chest with his arm as he did, sending a jolt through her. As he withdrew, his eyes sliced to her, and she met them before turning away.

‘Stay safe.’ The elusive man melted back into the darkness.

Ash took the bag, placing it on the console between them. He reached in and took out two guns.

One he tucked into a holster, also found in Saint’s bag of goodies.

He strapped on the gun sleeve and slid the weapon onto the back of his waist, which stayed hidden under his jacket. He slipped the second compact weapon into the side of one boot.

Cece stared wide-eyed until he was done. ‘Where’s mine?’

He smirked. ‘Come with me.’

He climbed out of the car, and she followed suit.

The car doors locked behind them with a soft click.

They moved as quietly as they could along the path to the townhouse’s front door.

Cece was overcome with nerves, and she flattened an errant strand of hair that had escaped the messy bun she’d attempted.

Once at the door, she braced herself, threw her shoulders back and raised a hand to the beaten wood surface.

Ash was behind Cece, providing her with cover.

‘Keep the knock soft, announce yourself, keeping your voice low.’

He’d dipped his head, and his breath fell on her shoulder as he spoke. She shivered and did as he’d instructed.

A shuffle of feet came from inside.

Followed by a whisper. ‘That you, sis?’

‘Yes, let us in.’

A series of door locks, bolts and chains rattled, and the door slid open a tiny crack.

An eye peeked out, and then the entryway widened.

Ash growled from behind her. ‘Get inside. Quick.’

He surged forward, almost pushing Cece along as the body inside fled to make way for their entry.

The door thudded shut behind them, aided by Ash’s boot.

Cece found herself standing in a decrepit living area.

On the far wall, a flat-screen TV hung at an off-angle. The place was a mess. The floral sofa and chairs were old, worn and frayed. Scattered on them were a few cushions that collapsed on themselves.

The floors were bare of carpet, and the hardwood planks were pitted with scuff stains, gouges, and burn marks.

The walls were rough, white painted plaster covered in dirty fingermarks and scratches. Windows were cracked and broken, with only a few pieces of cardboard covering the frames.

A rush of water whooshed from an unseen leaking pipe. The slow drip kept rhythm with her heart and that of a far-off tick and rattle of a struggling heater.

The shuffle of someone moving towards them broke the trance.

A thin, taller male version of herself.

He was long and thin, almost emaciated. He wore a shirt that was too big and hung off his shoulders and torso like a smock. Similarly, his jeans were oversized, hanging off his thin legs like rags. His head was shaved in untidy strokes.

His face was thinner, pale skin and dark eye rings, more bruised than Cece had ever seen. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose, more than she had. His hair was greasy, stringy and tangled.

Cece’s brother had seen better days. He’d lost weight and become skinnier since she’d last seen him. His eyes were scrunched up as if it took an effort to focus. His nose was oily, and his lips were cracked.

Nevertheless, she rushed forward and embraced him.

They pulled back from each other as Cece smiled. ‘I missed you, buddy.’

‘Missed you too, sis. You doing good?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m OK. You?’

He gazed down at her through bloodshot eyes and gave her a half smile. ‘Peachy. On top of the world.’

His voice was weak, laboured.

The two siblings stared at each other, not noticing Ash casing the tiny house.

She probed further. ‘Really, though?’

‘Besides feeling like shit and hiding from the general’s collectors, I’m fine.’

Ash paused his reccie, raising an eyebrow. ‘We saw them. Why are they hanging around?’

Liam rubbed the back of his head, fingers tangling into his greasy hair. ‘I have some Ks on me that I should have shifted by now. I’ve also missed handing over my takings for four weeks, and the general’s getting impatient. He’s been blowing up my phone, but I’ve ignored his calls and texts. So he’s sent his goons - they’re the ones who’ve been casing the place for days now. If they find out I’ve got guests, they might think I’m handing over the product to you, and shit may go down.’

Ash pursed his lips. ‘You two get settled in while I check out the house. And be ready to move fast if we need to.’

The Mirren siblings nodded.

Liam extended a hand to welcome Cece to the sofa. ‘Sit.’

The air was stifling hot, stale and stagnant, and the couch under her jeans was stiff and scratchy.

She started with a touch to his arm. ‘How’s the detox?’

‘It ain’t fun. I’m through the worst, which is good.’

Cece pulled her brother’s hand into hers. ‘Don’t underplay your experience, Liam. What you’ve attempted is so brave.’

Liam launched into his detox ordeal, highlighting what must have been a gruelling experience. Cece listened, her heart breaking for her twin.

Ash descended the stairs after clearing the first floor. ‘You two need more time?’

The siblings glanced at each other.

‘We can catch up later,’ Cece suggested. ‘For now, Ash, you take over.’

She sat back against the couch as the tall, rugged man nodded, his eyes cagey as he studied Liam.

He strode towards them and sat across the edge of the broken chair. ‘I need to know how much you’re willing to help our investigation.’

Liam nodded. ‘I’ve had time to think about it, Sir, and I’m all in. Only if I get a good deal, though.’

‘You will. I’ll take care of you.’

‘No custody or prison time.’

Ash paused for a beat, then nodded. ‘Shouldn’t be a hardship.’

‘A hundred per cent freedom and immunity?’

‘I’ll make sure Defence can barrack for that.’

Liam nodded his approval. ‘Ask me anything. I’ll tell you.’

‘Let’s start with how he works.’

Cece’s brother sneered. ‘He keeps it tight. Flies in Ks from the Ghan on military transports and diplomatic bags. He’s got men he’s paid off at key points of entry - docks mostly. He’s also got protection from some of the higher-ups at some airports. He works with cells, most ex-soldiers who’ve served with him. Each comprises four or five people who work within the circle they trust. This keeps everything on a need-to-know basis. They take delivery at the airports and distribute to the dealer network.’

‘Is he the man at the top? In Australia?’

Liam shook his head. ‘He’s a middleman. Red Adder has a local guy who keeps an eye on him. He’s hinted to me that this guy and a local financier are above him.’

‘So he’s talked to you about the game?’

‘Sometimes, when he comes to deliver.’

Ash’s brow rose. ‘Deliver?’

Liam pursed his lips. ‘I’m his stepson, and also, because of my Eastern suburb connections, he sees me as a prime dealer. He likes to drop off the purest coke to me personally. My deliveries are to some of the wealthiest people in Sydney. From tech CEOs to judges and sports stars. So my product needs to be the highest quality and clean.’

‘You have any here?’

Liam pointed to the dining area. ‘I have what I haven’t sold. It’s what those dudes outside want from me.’

‘Can I see it?’

Liam limped to the adjacent room, where a cupboard stood. He flung the doors open to reveal two safes inside, stacked on each other.

Ash was hot on his heels, as was Cece, curious to see what her brother had to share.

He fiddled with the dials of the top safe, and the door swung open.

Liam reached in and pulled out a metal tray containing a sizeable block of a white substance.

Withdrawing, he set it on the dining table.

Ash whistled under his breath. ‘That what I think it is?’

‘That’s a three-kilo crack brick. I’ve got three of them. Street value is in the hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions. It’s 80% pure too. You know from its pungent smell and pearl or fish scale sheen. Plus, it flakes to a sharp point when it breaks apart. All signs of the good shit.’

‘This is the purest you can get?’

Liam nodded. ‘It’s why we call it snow. Some people try to fake it with crushed-up Panadol and hairspray, which gives a similar look. But I don’t play that way. Neither do I cut it with fentanyl. Or other shit like that. I keep it real, and that’s why my customers keep returning. But no more; I’m out of the game now.’

Ash gazed at the brick with fascination. ‘How’d you get word to your customers?’

‘Phone, secret apps and socials. We make a quick reel and send it to Snap, IG, Wickr and Signal, clouding the real product. Let my people know we’ve got a fresh, pure batch.’

Ash glanced up at Liam. ‘Did you say the general delivered this?’

‘Yup’.

‘Have any proof of this?’

Liam smirked. ‘At first, he did sweeps throughout the house when he started delivering to me. To make sure I had no recording or listening devices. After a year, his security got sloppy. So I set up a teddy bear cam the last two times and got some excellent footage.

Ash’s eyes lit up. ‘For real?’

Liam reached back to the safe behind him. Moments later, he handed Ash a small package. ‘On this drive.’

Ash’s eyes narrowed. ‘A bit convenient that you recorded him and just happened to have the footage handy.’

‘Pure coincidence. I had no idea of the investigation and your involvement, Sir. Not until Cece said as much. I was planning to use the footage as leverage. To get out of the game and out of the general’s control. But I realised that if he ices rogue cartels and even bikies at the drop of a hat, he’ll have no qualms about having me done in. So I was holding onto it til I figured something out.’

Ash jerked his chin to the block of white snow. ‘He ever share where he sources cocaine of this quality?’

‘All I know is that his trips to the Middle East are suss. I believe his main contact, the importer, is based in Afghanistan. But they meet up in Dubai or Abu Dhabi to make deals.’

Just then, Ash’s phone vibrated. He slid it out of his back pocket and tapped the screen. ‘Saint, what’s happening?’

His face tightened as he listened to his backup on the other line.

‘Outside, lurking?’

Ash glanced at Liam and addressed him, his voice urgent. ‘Looks like we need to haul ass. Now. You got a second exit?’

Liam pointed outside to his backyard. ‘Alley gate.’

Ash went back to his call. ‘Any chance you can get to the back street? I’ll have Cece and Liam meet you. Now. I’ll take care of the visitors if they come to the door and join you when it’s safe.’

He tapped off, his face grim. ‘We have to get out of here.’

The siblings nodded, exchanging glances.

Ash moved to the front door, slipping his phone and the drive with the incriminating evidence into his back pocket. ‘Liam, you need to grab everything of value, including those Ks. Plus, your phone and laptop and get to the alley. You can’t leave anything incriminating behind. Cece, please help him. Move. Fast.’