In a word: Order

I gave the order to my assistant to order the supplies we needed in order to maintain stock levels.

Oh, yes, the word order is one of my favourites, because it can confuse the hell out of many people in its simplicity and yet complexity.

I gave the order, it’s what happens in the armed forces, and a lot of other places, but mostly we would associate it with organisations that have hierarchical authority.

The military, for one, cut orders, the means of sending one of its minions to another place, or to do a specific job.

Order supplies, well, just about anyone can order something from somewhere, usually on the internet, and sometimes require or are given an order number so it can be tracked.

In order to maintain, in order to get what I want, in order to get elected, this is just another way of using the word, with the aim of achieving something, though I’m sure there’s probably a better way of expressing these sentiments.

Law and order, well, doesn’t everyone want this, and doesn’t it always turn up in an election campaign, and seems to be the first thing sacrificed after the election.  The thing is, no one can guarantee law and order.

There is the law and there is administering it.  There is no order that comes with it, we just hope that order is maintained, and deplore the situation when it isn’t.

Perhaps in order to maintain law and order, we might need more police.

Then, of course, there is alphabetical order, and numerical order, where things can be designated from A to Z, like this challenge, or from 1 to 10, or more.  We can sort words alphabetically, numbers numerically and data items by keys or an index.

This is naturally called a sort order.

Then there is my car, or bike, or washing machine, or mixmaster.  They are currently in good working order, though that might not last.

And lastly, in deference to all those out there who are thinking of becoming dictators, it’s always possible, one day, there will be a new world order.  They might actually be in their own particular order, whose intellect might be (?) of the highest order.

Surely that is one order too many.

An excerpt from “What Sets Us Apart”, a mystery with a twist

See the excerpt from the story below, just a taste of what’s in store…

http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

whatsetscover

McCallister was old school, a man who would most likely fit in perfectly campaigning on the battlefields of Europe during the Second World War. He’d been like a fish out of water in the army, post-Falklands, and while he retired a hero, he still felt he’d more to give.

He’d applied and was accepted as head of a SWAT team, and, watching him now as he and his men disembarked from the truck in almost military precision, a look passed between Annette, the police liaison officer, and I that said she’d seen it all before. I know I had.

There was a one in four chance his team would be selected for this operation, and she had been hoping it would be one of the other three. While waiting for them to arrive she filled me in on the various teams. His was the least co-operative, and the more likely to make ad-hoc decisions rather than adhere to the plan, or any orders that may come from the officer in charge.

This, she said quite bluntly, was going to end badly.

I still had no idea why Prendergast instructed me to attend the scene of what looked to be a normal domestic operation, but as the nominated expert in the field in these types of situations, it was fairly clear he wasn’t taking any chances. It was always a matter of opinion between us, and generally I lost.

In this case, it was an anonymous report identifying what the authorities believed were explosives in one of the dockside sheds where explosives were not supposed to be.

The only reason why the report was given any credence was the man, while not identifying himself by name, said he’d been an explosive expert once and recognized the boxes. That could mean anything, but the Chief Constable was a cautious man.

With his men settled and preparing their weapons, McCallister came over to the command post, not much more than the SUV my liaison and I arrived in, with weapons, bulletproof vests, and rolls of tape to cordon off the area afterward. We both had coffee, steaming in the cold early morning air. Dawn was slowly approaching and although rain had been forecast it had yet to arrive.

A man by the name of Benson was in charge. He too had groaned when he saw McCallister.

“A fine morning for it.” McCallister was the only enthusiastic one here.

He didn’t say what ‘it’ was, but I thought it might eventually be mayhem.

“Let’s hope the rain stays away. It’s going to be difficult enough without it,” Benson said, rubbing his hands together. We had been waiting for the SWAT team to arrive, and another team to take up their position under the wharf, and who was in the final stages of securing their position.

While we were waiting we drew up the plan. I’d go in first to check on what we were dealing with, and what type of explosives. The SWAT team, in the meantime, were to ensure all the exits to the shed were covered. When I gave the signal, they were to enter and secure the building. We were not expecting anyone inside or out, and no movement had been detected in the last hour since our arrival and deployment.

“What’s the current situation?”

“I’ve got eyes on the building, and a team coming in from the waterside, underneath. Its slow progress, but they’re nearly there. Once they’re in place, we’re sending McKenzie in.”

He looked in my direction.

“With due respect sir, shouldn’t it be one of us?” McCallister glared at me with the contempt that only a decorated military officer could.

“No. I have orders from above, much higher than I care to argue with, so, McCallister, no gung-ho heroics for the moment. Just be ready to move on my command, and make sure you have three teams at the exit points, ready to secure the building.”

McCallister opened his mouth, no doubt to question those orders, but instead closed it again. “Yes sir,” he muttered and turned away heading back to his men.

“You’re not going to have much time before he storms the battlements,” Benson quietly said to me, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “I’m dreading the paperwork.”

It was exactly what my liaison officer said when she saw McCallister arriving.

The water team sent their ‘in position’ signal, and we were ready to go.

In the hour or so we’d been on site nothing had stirred, no arrivals, no departures, and no sign anyone was inside, but that didn’t mean we were alone. Nor did it mean I was going to walk in and see immediately what was going on. If it was a cache of explosives then it was possible the building was booby-trapped in any number of ways, there could be sentries or guards, and they had eyes on us, or it might be a false alarm.

I was hoping for the latter.

I put on the bulletproof vest, thinking it was a poor substitute for full battle armor against an exploding bomb, but we were still treating this as a ‘suspected’ case. I noticed my liaison officer was pulling on her bulletproof vest too.

“You don’t have to go. This is my party, not yours,” I said.

“The Chief Constable told me to stick to you like glue, sir.”

I looked at Benson. “Talk some sense into her please, this is not a kindergarten outing.”

He shrugged. Seeing McCallister had taken all the fight out of him. “Orders are orders. If that’s what the Chief Constable requested …”

Madness. I glared at her, and she gave me a wan smile. “Stay behind me then, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Believe me, I won’t be.” She pulled out and checked her weapon, chambering the first round. It made a reassuring sound.

Suited up, weapons readied, a last sip of the coffee in a stomach that was already churning from nerves and tension, I looked at the target, one hundred yards distant and thought it was going to be the longest hundred yards I’d ever traversed. At least for this week.

A swirling mist rolled in and caused a slight change in plans.

Because the front of the buildings was constantly illuminated by large overhead arc lamps, my intention had been to approach the building from the rear where there was less light and more cover. Despite the lack of movement, if there were explosives in that building, there’d be ‘enemy’ surveillance somewhere, and, after making that assumption, I believed it was going to be easier and less noticeable to use the darkness as a cover.

It was a result of the consultation, and studying the plans of the warehouse, plans that showed three entrances, the main front hangar type doors, a side entrance for truck entry and exit and a small door in the rear, at the end of an internal passage leading to several offices. I also assumed it was the exit used when smokers needed a break. Our entry would be by the rear door or failing that, the side entrance where a door was built into the larger sliding doors. In both cases, the locks would not present a problem.

The change in the weather made the approach shorter, and given the density of the mist now turning into a fog, we were able to approach by the front, hugging the walls, and moving quickly while there was cover. I could feel the dampness of the mist and shivered more than once.

It was nerves more than the cold.

I could also feel rather than see the presence of Annette behind me, and once felt her breath on my neck when we stopped for a quick reconnaissance.

It was the same for McCallister’s men. I could feel them following us, quickly and quietly, and expected, if I turned around, to see him breathing down my neck too.

It added to the tension.

My plan was still to enter by the back door.

We slipped up the alley between the two sheds to the rear corner and stopped. I heard a noise coming from the rear of the building, and the light tap on the shoulder told me Annette had heard it too. I put my hand up to signal her to wait, and as a swirl of mist rolled in, I slipped around the corner heading towards where I’d last seen the glow of a cigarette.

The mist cleared, and we saw each other at the same time. He was a bearded man in battle fatigues, not the average dockside security guard.

He was quick, but my slight element of surprise was his undoing, and he was down and unconscious in less than a few seconds with barely a sound beyond the body hitting the ground. Zip ties secured his hands and legs, and tape his mouth. Annette joined me a minute after securing him.

A glance at the body then me, “I can see why they, whoever they are, sent you.”

She’d asked who I worked for, and I didn’t answer. It was best she didn’t know.

“Stay behind me,” I said, more urgency in my tone. If there was one, there’d be another.

Luck was with us so far. A man outside smoking meant no booby traps on the back door, and quite possibly there’d be none inside. But it indicated there were more men inside, and if so, it appeared they were very well trained. If that were the case, they would be formidable opponents.

The fear factor increased exponentially.

I slowly opened the door and looked in. A pale light shone from within the warehouse itself, one that was not bright enough to be detected from outside. None of the offices had lights on, so it was possible they were vacant. I realized then they had blacked out the windows. Why hadn’t someone checked this?

Once inside, the door closed behind us, progress was slow and careful. She remained directly behind me, gun ready to shoot anything that moved. I had a momentary thought for McCallister and his men, securing the perimeter.

At the end of the corridor, the extent of the warehouse stretched before us. The pale lighting made it seem like a vast empty cavern, except for a long trestle table along one side, and, behind it, stacks of wooden crates, some opened. It looked like a production line.

To get to the table from where we were was a ten-yard walk in the open. There was no cover. If we stuck to the walls, there was equally no cover and a longer walk.

We needed a distraction.

As if on cue, the two main entrances disintegrated into flying shrapnel accompanied by a deafening explosion that momentarily disoriented both Annette and I. Through the smoke and dust kicked up I saw three men appear from behind the wooden crates, each with what looked like machine guns, spraying bullets in the direction of the incoming SWAT members.

They never had a chance, cut down before they made ten steps into the building.

By the time I’d recovered, my head heavy, eyes watering and ears still ringing, I took several steps towards them, managing to take down two of the gunmen but not the third.

I heard a voice, Annette’s I think, yell out, “Oh, God, he’s got a trigger,” just before another explosion, though all I remember in that split second was a bright flash, the intense heat, something very heavy smashing into my chest knocking the wind out of me, and then the sensation of flying, just before I hit the wall.

I spent four weeks in an induced coma, three months being stitched back together and another six learning to do all those basic actions everyone took for granted. It was twelve months almost to the day when I was released from the hospital, physically, except for a few alterations required after being hit by shrapnel, looking the same as I always had.

But mentally? The document I’d signed on release said it all, ‘not fit for active duty; discharged’.

It was in the name of David Cheney. For all intents and purposes, Alistair McKenzie was killed in that warehouse, and for the first time ever, an agent left the Department, the first to retire alive.

I was not sure I liked the idea of making history.

© Charles Heath 2016-2020

The cinema of my dreams – It continued in London – Episode 26

I have a small job

…

The trek from the car, along the red carpet, the flashing cameras, and reporters with microphones shoved in faces, was the longest 50 yards I’d ever taken.

To say I’d prefer to negotiate a minefield was an understatement.  She was polite, smiling, answering questions, and doing the red-carpet thing if that was what it was. 

I remained in the background adopting the bodyguard stance, not that of a partner or escort, guiding her on at the appropriate moment, and they left me alone.

Bodyguards were not news just an accouterment to the rich and famous.  I was glad that I fitted into the suit and didn’t look out of place.

On the other side, in that magical land of peace and quiet, an area that was reserved for the VIPs, I got a momentary look into a world that few were ever privy to.

Being a Royal Command Performance, I also got the unexpected surprise of being introduced to members of the Royal family, scary stuff indeed.  I’d only ever seen them in the papers and on TV, and oddly never in a good light.

How different they were in person.

Rodby seemed ill at ease, Martha in her element, and the countess took it all in her stride, perhaps showing that she was born into that life rather than acquiring it.

I’d found a quiet corner and Rodby it seemed had too.

“Another of your white lies comes home to roost.  You ask why I won’t come back, and this evening is all the proof you need.”

“It wasn’t anything to do with me.  Orders from above.”

“You don’t answer to anyone.”

The wry grin said otherwise.  “We all have our masters.”

“Who is she?”

At the moment she was across the room deep in conversation with one of the Royal party.

“A woman with a problem.”

And then it all became clear.  “This is low, even for you.”

“Not me.  This is Martha’s doing.  She has this unaccountable belief in you, which is surprising since I’ve never told her what it was you used to do.”

“And yet here we are.”

I was going to make a point of talking to Martha if only to dispute his account.  He could have chosen any one of a hundred more qualified people and yet here I was.  I had to believe it was not Martha’s intention for me to be here other than as a prospect for her friend the Countess.

“Indeed.”

The accompanying sigh was due to Martha making her way over to us. His brief moment of solitude was over.  I doubted Rodby had any time for what he called schmoozing, nor would he suffer the protection types that were in abundance in that room.  It reeked of wealth and privilege.

“There you two are.”

“I don’t like crowds,” I said.  At least I had a viable excuse.

She glared at Rodby.  “Go and make yourself amenable.  I want a moment with Evan.”

His dismay was complete.  I could tell he would rather face down a horde of enemy soldiers than face those people currently in the room.

After a moment where he might have considered an entirely different scenario, he thought the better of it and meandered off in the direction of the bar.

This was a Rodby I’d never seen before.

“Now, what are you doing with yourself these days?  Alan tells me you are adrift now Violetta is not there.”

How kind of him to say so.  Had I completely misjudged him, and this was going to be his pitch, by someone he knew I couldn’t say no to.

“I would not call in exactly adrift.”

“You know what I mean.  I’m sorry that I haven’t managed to catch up but I’ve been working on getting him to decide it’s time to retire.”

“I’m not sure what I could do to help you in that regard.”

“You don’t have to.  I have something else I would like you to do for me.  Heidi is one of those formidable forces that have the ability to take on the world, and beat it, but not when it comes to handling problems of her own.  The count, God bless him, used to take care of all that nonsense, but he’s not here, so, given what Alan has told me about you, nothing but glowing references I have to say, could you help her out?”

What could Rodby possibly say about me when he was sworn to secrecy?  In fact, why would he mention me to Martha above anyone else?  I was just an errand boy in terms of acquaintances.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Nothing of any importance other than to say you were a good man in a crisis.”  She smiled. “And we both know that could mean almost anything from catching a mug of coffee before it splashed over a tetchy diplomat to saving a pilotless plane about to crash into a mountain.  What I’m asking will not involve either of these scenarios or at least I hope not.”  Perhaps she just saw my expression, a mixture of curiosity and dismay.  “I’m not selling this very well, am I?”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to sell.”

The bell rang to signify the audience to head for their seats, or in our case, a box.  Opera was so much better from the boxes, particularly when those below looked up in awe, expecting to see a celebrity.

“We’re having drinks after the opera.  We’ll talk more then.” 

Rodby was walking over with the countess.

The look on his face was priceless

© Charles Heath 2022

Sayings: Going on a wild goose chase

Who hasn’t been on one of these, particularly if you have an older brother or sister, and they have nothing better to do than give you a hard time.

You know what I mean, going on a mission to find or do something, knowing full well that you won’t find it, or complete it because it was a lost cause to start with.

Yes, it goes very well with another saying, a dog chasing its tail.

We’ve seen that, too, watching the poor dog go round and round without ever achieving anything.

Sounds like my day today.

And it doesn’t stop there, the pointless search could also be described as ‘searching for a needle in a haystack’.

That is, to my mind the very definition of a living nightmare.

The origin of the idiom, well that’s a little more complicated because there isn’t just one definition.

The first:

Coined by William Shakespeare, but not necessarily in the sort of language we can read easily – it’s a bit like my ability to translate Spanish to English. It does, however, refer to a ‘wild goose chase’.

The second:

Refers to, of all things 16th Century horseracing, and because I don’t have a time machine I can’t go back to fact-check. However, it refers to the other riders following the leader around the course, in much the same formation as geese flying through the air.

…

My little story to go with it:

…

If you are good at your job, and that is beginning to be noticed, your boss will find one of these ‘wild goose chases’ just for you, in an effort to make you look bad.

It happened to me once: my task was to search the basement, where old records were stored, for a folder that a former employee had thought they had filed it in the wrong storage box, a supposition supported by the fact the folder was now needed to clear up a clerical error and the file wasn’t in the specifically marked storage box.

My job was to search every one of the other 765 boxes stored haphazardly in the basement until I found it.

It was, I was told later, sitting on his desk the whole time, and when I couldn’t find it, was going to swoop in and say he’d found it.

Of course, it went missing before he could, so he got a bollicking for not storing the files properly, and I got the job to clean up the basement. I’m not sure who got the worst punishment.

The cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 12

I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritising.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Was I working for a ghost?

 

I sat in that room for an hour.

I had no doubt someone was on the other side of the mirrored wall, watching me, analysing my body language.  I hoped I hadn’t given any indication that Nobbin was a name that I recognised, or knew, but I was still new to this game, and as much as I tried to perfect it, I still didn’t think I had a poker face.

More than likely I had a ‘tell’.

There was something else I had to worry about, and that was what approach this Dobbin would take.  For instance, did he know that I had met up with the man in the alley, and stretching that big if, did he know who the man in the alley was, and was he one of ours.

Of course, that was another problem I had, and that was recognising who ‘ours’ were.  It seems the people I knew, were not the same people who were really running the place.

Or, paradoxically, were these people, interlopers, trying to get intel on the group I was supposedly working for.  But they hadn’t disavowed me, so I must be working for someone they approved or knew of.

An hour and a half, and I was beginning to think this might be another game by my previous interrogators.  I was glad not to be on the other side of the mirror, trying to work out what I was ‘telling;’ them.  Once, I’d got up and stared directly into the mirror, thinking I might be able to see who was behind it.  I also thought of tapping it to see if I could get a reaction.

And, in fact, I was about to do that very thing when Nobbin walked through the door and closed it behind him.

I saw him do a quick check of the room, from the floor to the roof, and stopping briefly at the mirror, before sitting down.

“We probably have an audience for this discussion,” I said, inclining my head towards the mirror.

“You might be right, but I did ask for a clean slate, and if anyone is considering recording or viewing this interview, there will be dire consequences.”  Looking at the mirror, he added, “I made that very clear at the highest level.”

He then looked back at me.  “Your name, I believe, is Sam Jackson?”

“Yes.”  My current working name, that is.  Once deployed to the field we started using aliases, and my first and current alias was Sam Jackson.  But how they made the passport look old and used for that legend was interesting, yet not a question anyone would answer.

“You were recently assigned to a surveillance team, for this man.”

He’d brought a folder with him and pulled out a photograph of the man I’d cornered in the alley.

“Is that him?”

Was there a right or wrong answer here?

“Yes.”

“Who was leading this operation?”

“A man named Severin.”

“Describe him.

I did.

It evoked no reaction.  Nobbin had a poker face.  In fact, I was beginning to think it was etched in stone.

“Do you know who he is?” I asked.

“No.  But we will find out.  Thank you for your time.”

He stood, gave me one last look, and left the room.

I waited a minute, and then followed him out, where a security officer was waiting to escort me out of the building.

On the steps outside, security pass returned, I wondered if that was then end of my tenure with that organisation.  Or whether I actually had any tenure in the first place.

 

© Charles Heath 2019

“The Document” – the editor’s final draft – Day 8

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

And so it begins…

…

Heading into the second week, the statistics are telling the story, in one sense.

After 8 days, 16,685 words, an average of 1,853 words a day, an average of 1,515 words a day to meet the 50,000-word target, and to do that I will be finished on schedule.

Of course, that would be true, but who writes a novel that is exactly 50,000 words?

It would be novel (pardon the pun) if you could do just that, it’s worth a moment’s thought before discarding.

The words finding themselves having been grouped into chapters are now making a lot more sense on the second run-through, and the story is taking shape with the first section almost done.

Day 8 has seen the start of the second section, and all I can say about the theme is be careful what you wish for, in more ways than one!

Who said editing is horrible?

I feel asleep in front of the computer screen

And when I woke up, I realised that I had just had a very bad dream. Or don’t they call bad dreams nightmares?

Can you diagnose yourself as having depression?

Of course, if you were to tell someone else, in one of these very serious tones, “I think I have depression” they will ask you what you’ve got to be depressed about.

It’s a good question. My first answer would be, “why did the doctor put me on antidepressants?” You know the stuff they give you, some derivative of serapax,

Then, if you tell anyone you’re on that stuff, they turn around and tell you just how bad it is and get off it right now.

That’s all very well, but you tell them you still have depression, and so the argument goes on.

But…

These days, they use low doses of antidepressants to manage pain, and in my case back pain. The first pill they gave me was Lyrica, which slowly took my memory away so that I couldn’t remember what anyone had said earlier in the day.

I thought I had early onset Alzheimer’s, or worse, dementia.

So I got off that, got the pain back, and moved to antidepressants. Now I’m seeing things.

That might help with the imagination for writing stories sometimes, but telling people you see the patterns on tiles moving is not a good start to any conversation.

Back to depression, though. It might be caused by being locked down and not being able to go anywhere, but that has never bothered me because I hate going out.

It might be a result of my childhood coming back to haunt me, and, believe me, you would not want the childhood I had, but it’s a maybe. A lot of old people find their past creeping up on them, and what happened 60 years ago seems more relevant than what happened 60 minutes ago.

You might think you’re badly done by, that everyone else is responsible for the mess you made of your life, if it is indeed a mess, but no, that isn’t true. My life is exactly what it’s meant to be, though how I got here remains the biggest of mysteries.

It’s why I’m writing the autobiography of a very ordinary nobody.

OK, that might be a hint, thinking I’m a nobody. After all, when I go out I always feel like I’m invisible.

A friend of mine tells me he always cries when there’s a sad part of a film on, and that’s his determination of depression.

I do too, but I don’t think it’s that.

After all, I did psychology and should understand the nuances of the human psyche, what makes us happy, what makes us sad, what makes us us.

So, rightly or wrongly I’ve stopped taking the antidepressants.

If suddenly my blog suddenly stops, you’ll know I’ve made the wrong decision.

Skeletons in the closet, and doppelgangers

A story called “Mistaken Identity”

…

How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect it.

In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.

I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.

Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.

There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.

Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.

It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.

For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.

It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!

And a great idea for a story.

That story is called ‘Mistaken Identity’.

“The Document” – the editor’s final draft – Day 7

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

And so it begins…

…

It’s the end of the first week

Is it plain sailing? No.

We’ve circled back to Chapter 9 and it is problematical. I read it, and I don’t like it.

So, I went to one of my beta readers, gave her a copy, and asked for an opinion. I knew that fishing with crocodiles was going to be more fun, but I couldn’t afford to go to Florida.

Two days later I got a three-page critique.

She could have sugar-coated it. You know, yes it suits the flow but there are a few tweaks required, not the last paragraph in capitals saying, IT NEEDS REWRITING.

I could have told her that.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.

Did I say I hate editing?

“The Devil You Don’t”, she was the girl you would not take home to your mother!

Now only $0.99 at https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

…

John Pennington’s life is in the doldrums. Looking for new opportunities, and prevaricating about getting married, the only joy on the horizon was an upcoming visit to his grandmother in Sorrento, Italy.

Suddenly he is left at the check-in counter with a message on his phone telling him the marriage is off, and the relationship is over.

If only he hadn’t promised a friend he would do a favour for him in Rome.

At the first stop, Geneva, he has a chance encounter with Zoe, an intriguing woman who captures his imagination from the moment she boards the Savoire, and his life ventures into uncharted territory in more ways than one.

That ‘favour’ for his friend suddenly becomes a life-changing event, and when Zoe, the woman who he knows is too good to be true, reappears, danger and death follow.

Shot at, lied to, seduced, and drawn into a world where nothing is what it seems, John is dragged into an adrenaline-charged undertaking, where he may have been wiser to stay with the ‘devil you know’ rather than opt for the ‘devil you don’t’.

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