“I’ve run into a snag,” Dakota said, keeping his voice cool even as his mind raced through scenarios. “I’ll get there as soon as possible. With the plans.”
A pause. Ham was too experienced not to hear what wasn’t being said. “What kind of snag?”
“I accidentally got my bag switch with another passenger. A gal named Jayden Pierce. She’s a hotel inspector—but I need to track her down before I board. I’ll call you from Sydney.”
He ended the call before Ham could push further. Stared at the rifle components in the bag. Fifty-fifty chance she had his bag.
If not, then he’d have to track it down amidst the travelers of Aussie Adventures.
So, yeah, a snag.
The bathroom door opened behind him.
“Oh!” Vic stopped short, hands raised apologetically. “Sorry—I didn’t realize anyone was?—”
Dakota closed the bag. Smooth. Casual. Nothing to see here.
“No problem.” He turned, keeping his body between Vic and the bag. “The changing room is open to everyone.”
The nervous IT consultant hovered in the doorway, that perpetually anxious expression firmly in place. Wire-rimmed glasses. Rumpled polo. “I just—I was looking for the restroom. My stomach, you know.” He gestured vaguely at his midsection. “Flying never agrees with me.”
“Down the hall. Left.”
“Right. Yes. Thank you.” But Vic didn’t leave. His gaze flicked to the bag, then back to Dakota’s face. “What’s going on? You look like something’s wrong.”
“Grabbed the wrong bag.” Dakota kept his voice light. “Happens.”
“Yeah. That’s why I also travel with a carry-on.” He lifted a black compact backpack.
“Yeah. Good plan.” Dakota grabbed the bag—the wrong bag, with its rifle components and packed women’s clothes. “Safe travels. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”
“Maybe.”
Dakota moved past him into the corridor, searching for the coffee shop.
He had to find Jayden. Had to get his bag back. Had to figure out if the woman who’d talked him through a nightmare was a civilian caught in a bad situation—or something else entirely.
And he had to do it before she disappeared into the crowd with everything he needed to protect the president of the United States.
Jayden had watched him walk away and told herself it didn’t matter.
Just a moment, a blink in time when she’d seen a different side of herself. Not a true side, maybe. A wannabe side.
He’d moved through the Cairns airport with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where he was going. Checked the departures board. Noted the Sydney gate. Moved through the terminal without looking back.
He hadn’t looked back.
Which was fine. Just fine.
So why did her chest ache?
Tropical brightness bathed the Cairns airport—high ceilings, massive windows, afternoon sunlight streaming across the polished floors. Palm trees in decorative planters. The smell of coffee from a nearby kiosk. Tourists in shorts and sandals, dragging oversized luggage toward check-in counters.
Focus. She needed to focus.
Jayden stood at the departures board, scanning the Sydney flights. The next one left in ninety minutes—the one Dakota had just booked, if she’d read his body language correctly. The one after that departed three hours later.
Plenty of time to grab coffee, find a quiet corner, check in with London. Refocus on what mattered.