An elderly waiter, with the sort of ancient face that looked as if it had been etched in stone, approached Ella’s table. She’d chosen a café near the harbor so that she could tune in easily to transmissions between the various boats while she enjoyed a last meal of branzino on the safety of dry land. Once aboard the Argo, she would be trapped. Makis’s prisoner, albeit a willing one.
‘No, thank you. That was delicious.’ She reached into her pocketbook for Persephone’s credit card, praying suddenly that The Group hadn’t already cancelled it. Luckily it seemed to go through the old man’s little machine with no problems.
She’d already texted Mak and was expecting one of the Argo’s state-of-the-art speedboats to arrive in the harbor for her at any minute. She was to wait for them at jetty five. Pulling her suitcase along behind her, she rattled and rumbled over the creaky wooden boards of the pier, all the while focusing on isolating the Argo’s call signal from the rest of the deafening radio chatter in her head.
‘Argonaut II, are you there yet?’ she heard the yacht’s skipper signal the tender.
‘Almost,’ came the reply. ‘I think I can see her coming down the jetty.’
Don’t look up, Ella reminded herself, fighting the urge to search out the speedboat in the growing darkness. Remember, Persephone can’t hear them.
Her heart hammered in her chest, powered by a familiar feeling of excitement mingled with fear. Tonight she would be on the yacht with Mak. Though nothing had been spelled out between them, she understood that the time for separate bedrooms had passed. That ‘Persephone’ was returning to him not as a friend, but as a lover.
Two uniformed men waved as a sleek, sky-blue Wajer 55 tender arrived at jetty 5, with the word ARGONAUT II embossed on the side in shiny black lettering.
‘Ms Hamlin?’ A young, handsome boat-hand climbed up to the jetty, reaching for Ella’s bag.
r /> Ella nodded.
‘We saw you walking over from the harbor. Perfect timing.’ He smiled, helping her down into the boat.
‘Thank you for coming to get me,’ said Ella.
The second man, who was older and more heavily set, introduced himself with a shake of his hairy, bear-like hand.
‘It’s our pleasure, ma’am. Mr Alexiadis is looking forward to welcoming you aboard the Argo. We’re a little further out of the harbor than we’d hoped to be, but we should have you at the yacht in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, please just relax.’
Relax.
Sitting back on the rich velvet-cushioned bench, Ella smiled to herself.
The excitement of her new life was becoming addictive. She wondered if she would ever truly relax again.
The little boat took off with alarming speed. Both men remained at the helm while Ella sat at the back, a thick cashmere blanket covering her knees. Turning back, she watched the lights of Portofino harbor recede behind them, like stars in the wake of a warp-speeding Millennium Falcon. As they rounded the headland, the last lights to go were those of the sparkling Hotel Splendido Mare. And then there was nothing but open water, the pitch darkness softened only slightly by the light of a pale half-moon.
The roar of the speedboat’s engine quickly faded out to become background noise, and the buzzing signals from the harbor traffic also quietened in Ella’s brain into more of a low purr, like a contented cat about to fall asleep. In the relative peace, she was able to tune into the Argo much more clearly, her mind flipping through the various frequencies like songs on a jukebox, until she stumbled across Makis’s own voice – low, gravelly and crystal clear. He was using a satellite phone of some sort, and from Ella’s position on the boat the sound quality was perfect. Her stomach gave a little flip when she realized he was talking to Cameron McKinley, the fixer whose goons had followed her, and possibly Nikkos too, in Athens.
Mak’s voice came first. ‘You are certain?’
Then Cameron’s. ‘Yes. The birth was listed in public records. There’s been no attempt to conceal it as far as I can see. Praeger, Ella Jane. Born 28 May 1994, to Rachel, née Franklin, and William.’
At the sound of her own name, Ella felt her stomach liquefy with fear.
There was a pause on the line, then Mak spoke again. ‘The same age as Persephone …’ He sounded thoughtful. ‘Any pictures?’
‘Two. One from Paradise Valley High School Yearbook. Another from Berkeley. It appears Ms Praeger attended in 2012 as a computer science major.’
This was bad. Very bad.
‘And?’ said Mak.
Ella couldn’t breathe as she waited for Cameron’s answer.
‘It’s her. There’s no question. It’s the same girl.’
A deafening silence followed. In the distance, Ella could make out the lights of the yacht where Makis was waiting for her. Where she would be trapped, helpless, with no hope of escape.
‘What would you like me to do?’ Cameron asked.