the client.”
Her eyes raked over him as if she, too, had studied him through his work. He imagined that if she was as good as her file suggested, then that was the case. One didn’t come in blind to anything, not a Nassar agent. They were all good, but to be in the top few meant that you left nothing to chance.
Professional, he thought, despite the bike. She smiled and threaded her fingers through her hair, pushing the shining black curtain up and away from her face. She came up another step. They were only a few feet apart.
She put one hand on the railing and held out the other to him. He took it and was caught in a firm grip that held no hesitation.
“What I’d like to know is why Prince Sadiq el Eloua is flying here alone on a commercial airline,” she said as she let go of his hand. She was referring to the client. The one she was assigned to. “I know it’s too late to do anything about it but really, even if there’s no identified threat, at the least he should have been accompanied.”
“There’s apparently never been a security issue—he has no money or status,” he said, realizing that she’d mirrored many of his first doubts. “It appears more for ego that we were hired.”
“Seems like there should be more to this, otherwise there’s no need to hire us.”
He shrugged. “Overkill on Prince Rashad’s part,” he said, referring to the crown prince next in line to rule Morocco. “An easy assignment for you.”
There was something in her eyes and the way she looked at him that, if he were a vain man, he would have called admiration. Instead, it struck him how much the agency had grown, and how often, despite being vice president, he was faced with this situation—where he didn’t know the people in his employ. Not that he was complaining; his youngest brother Faisal ran this branch and had done so more than competently.
Jade brushed past him and headed toward the entrance to his office. She pulled the door open and walked in as if it were hers. “While I’m here I want to check the file one last time before I pick him up,” she said over her shoulder.
He followed her inside, closing the door behind him as a drift of snow skimmed the heated cork floor and immediately began to melt. He walked over to where she stood by his desk.
“You’ve had it out?” she asked as she picked up the only file on his desk. She did so without hesitation. But that was how Faisal’s office ran, with casual efficiency. While the Marrakech office had gone completely digital, Faisal still insisted on paper files. He loved all things retro. Retro had never appealed to Zafir. He’d take the latest smartphone over the century-old wooden file cabinet that stood in a corner of the office.
He watched her review the file. He assumed that she was going over details that she’d seen before. They were details that he’d just familiarized himself with. His mind reviewed what he knew of the client. The man was an amateur photographer. He was months short of his fortieth birthday and attached to nothing, not family, career, not even a stable home. He was rather like a man a decade or two younger. The majority of his income came from a life insurance policy that he’d received after the death of his parents. He supplemented that by occasionally selling his photos to magazines. That was why he was here, to take outdoor pictures of the Jackson Hole valley. It was the one thing he had in common with the client: they both felt the allure of Wyoming’s wild beauty. The file lay open where Jade had dropped it. He looked down and a chubby-cheeked man smiled back at him.
“Twenty-fifth in line to the throne,” Jade’s voice interrupted his private assessment. “My instinct says that’s important.”
Instinct, he couldn’t dispute that. It was what separated the good agent from the excellent.
She went to the window and stood there as snow hit, melted and slid down the glass. He took the file from the desk, closed it and put it back into the cabinet.
“He arrives in under two hours.” She glanced at her watch as she turned around. “I just can’t get over it. I mean, he’s a royal, I’m to make sure he’s safe, and yet he’s flying halfway across the world alone.” She shrugged. “That’s why his lineage was grating on me. But even twenty-fifth, with zero chance of ever attaining the throne... There’s safety in numbers, in having someone trained to watch out for you. Someone who pays attention to the surroundings to...” She trailed off. But he could see her frustration. Her blue eyes were alight with passion and concern.
“I’m not sure how it went down. He shouldn’t be flying either alone or commercial. What I know is that Prince Rashad isn’t happy about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s our client’s doing.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he isn’t our problem. At least, not until he lands...”
She frowned. “Despite what I just said, it’s a low-key case. Let’s just hope he gets here safely.” She paused, her attention not on him but on a point somewhere outside the office.
“There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“You’re right,” she said. “Our job begins as soon as they have wheels on the ground.” She looked at her watch. “I should get moving.”
“What’s with the dirt bike?” He couldn’t help but ask.
She shrugged and looked slightly sheepish. “My pickup wouldn’t start this morning. I’m going to get a rental on the way to the airport.”
“I’ll give you a lift.”
“No.” She shook her head. “The rental agency is only a few miles up the road. Besides, I love riding the bike in fresh snow,” she said. “I’d take it to the airport but I doubt Prince Sadiq would like riding on the back.”
From what he’d seen of Jade, he doubted that Prince Sadiq would mind at all.
“I’m not looking forward to it.” She paused. “Didn’t you find it strange—the name he prefers?” It was the name that neither of them had yet used.
“A bit old-fashioned.” He slid a hand into his pocket and rubbed an American penny he always carried between his thumb and forefinger. A long time ago his father had given it to him for luck. His father had been a very logical man, but he believed in talismans and luck. His parents had died tragically three days after his father had so casually tossed him the coin. Now he withdrew his hand, curious at her take.
“Stanley?” Her frown deepened. “What Moroccan royal is named Stanley? I mean even as a nickname.” Her eyes crinkled as if she were holding back a laugh. “He uses the name exclusively.”
“Royalty. Good chance he has an attitude, which will be a challenge,” he said, knowing that he should try to be helpful instead of goading her when they both knew that she was stuck with a dull case.
“I’m betting you’re right.” She pulled a quarter from her pocket. “Want to flip for odds? Heads he’s a challenge.”
“Tails, I lose,” he finished.
She flipped the coin and looked up with a smile. “Heads. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got myself a code white.”
He smiled at both the tone of her voice and her lighthearted approach that led them to betting on a case. That was a first, but he didn’t doubt that Jade was full of surprises—crazy little firsts.
“Code
