The Somali Deception Episode IV (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) Read Online Free Page A

and not let the reality of the short time they had together slip from
him.   Moments such as these, he
thought Christine had tossed reality away, and that concerned him.   Not in the sense he thought her
irrational, rather he did not want to see her hurt.
    Christine continued, “You could
stop with the Legion, and then you could come to Paris, to always be here to
look after me.”
    “One day I will,” he said.   “You know I am under contract.”
    Christine sighed.   “Oui,” she said.   She rolled onto her side and brought her
free arm around to run her fingers across his chest.   She continued to softly rake him for a
long moment and then, with a tint of intrigue asked him a question.
    “Cameron?”
    “Yes Christine.”
    “What if something were to
happen to me?”
    Cameron tilted his head toward
hers.   “What do you mean something
happen to you?”
    Christine raised her brow.   She had not actually thought of any one
particular thing.   “I don’t
know.   What if somebody tried to
hurt me, take me away in a grand kidnapping?”
    “No one is going to kidnap you.”
    “What if somebody did?   What if they try to steal me and you are
not here to protect me?   What if you
are across the sea with my brother on some mission, doing who knows what?”
    Cameron rolled to face
Christine.   “I promise.   If anyone ever tries to take you, I will
come to your rescue.”
    “You promise?   You will be mon chevalier?”
    “I promise on my honor,” said
Cameron, and then he kissed Christine again, harder than before, embracing her
until their passions were satisfied.
     
    * * *
* *
     
     

Chapter 62
    Ibiza
     
     
    The group enjoyed a four-course
dinner aboard Stratos’ private jet.   The meal consisted of salad, fresh Maine lobster, Wagyu steak, and black
currant custard, and lasted the flight from Gstaad to Ibiza.   No sooner had the dessert plates been
collected than the jet prepared to touch down at the Ibiza airport, where two
four-door Aston Martin Rapides were waiting.   Stratos and his assistant Annalisa drove
one, Cameron and Pepe the second.   Because of his familiarity with the island, Cameron drove.
    Cameron’s past visits to Ibiza
had not been as a chef.   His time on
the island had been spent as an agent of the Legion, posing as a civilian.   His missions were of the same nature as
those in Gstaad.   Though not as
exclusive as the Swiss enclave, Ibiza was simply another playground for
celebrity, wealth, and the unscrupulous.
    Tiers of holiday villas appeared
to pop out of the ocean side hills surrounding the town of Ibiza, in the same
fashion as the chalets that filled the mountainsides of the Bernese
Oberland.   On Ibiza, the facades
peering down to the sea were all glass, rather than carved wood, yet they
created the same illusion of multi-dwellings peppering the island heights.   The glass facades, the same as the
wooden, were actually multi-levels of single homes, stealthily attached within
the sparse forest and hillside.   Hidden
as well from the beautiful bay below were the sun decks, infinity pools, and
the rear garages that housed high-end sports cars of all makes.
    The wealthy occupants residing
in the hills far above the crystal blue ocean, predominantly young foreigners,
collectively slept until noon, napped late in the day, and then clubbed all
night, making the sunrise their second sunset, what those of their ilk tagged
as a ‘disco sunrise’.   The
authorities highly tolerant, blasé attitude toward the illicit behavior of the
hill dwellers, and Ibiza hippie kids that slept on the beach, had earned the
small Spanish island the well-deserved moniker, the ‘Gomorrah of the Med’.
    With the huge help of Annalisa’s
congenial demeanor and feminine wilds, Stratos had worked to calm the
intentions of Cameron and Pepe.   Requisitioning them a car from his fleet was part of the effort to build
trust.   Stratos had Annalisa call
the staff ahead of the group’s