Before she could argue, he moved toward the villa’s base. The bamboo structure was impressive up close—each slat positioned to create both beauty and function. The gaps between them were just wide enough for handholds.
Skeet began to climb.
The first ten feet were easy—muscle memory from training exercises kicking in. But as he reached the villa’s midlevel, the bamboo began to creak. He paused, listening for any sound of cracking.
Nothing.
Down by the pool, the brunette lay, eyes closed, napping.
Through the windows, he could see the villa’s main living area—same rosewood furniture, a small wet bar. And a staircase spiraling up to the master bedroom.
He continued climbing until he reached the upper windows. Same sleek bedroom as his villa, but also a desk. And on it a laptop, with a few papers scattered nearby.
Bam.He loved it when a plan came together.
The sliding doors to the overhanging balcony were open, maybe for ventilation. Skeet worked his way over and climbed on.
The room smelled of perfume—probably from the woman. Skeet spotted a passport on a nightstand and picked it up. Hungarian.Interesting.
He shot a photo and memorized the name—Reka Gabor.Easy. Like Eva.
He set it back and turned to the laptop. It sat open, the screen dark but not shut down. Perfect for what Coco needed. He brought it to life, pulled out his phone, and sent another text.
Skeet
In position. Uploading now.
Coco
About time. Starting remote access.
The laptop screen flickered, and files began scrolling on the screen, faster than his eyes could follow. Coco’s programs were infiltrating Volkov’s system, copying everything useful.
While she worked, Skeet turned his attention to the physical documents. Shipping manifests, mostly in Thai, but he recognized enough to know Volkov was moving something through Bangkok’s port. And the itineraries...
His blood chilled.
Multiple flights from Bangkok to major cities around the world. London. New York. Tokyo. Sydney. All departing within the next forty-eight hours.
His phone buzzed and he pulled it out. A text from Chloe.
Chloe
Volkov inbound.
He ducked down behind the desk, and a noise from downstairs made him freeze. Footsteps on the villa’s deck, followed by voices. Volkov, talking with his companion.
Skeet’s phone buzzed with another text from Coco.
Coco
Upload 80% complete. Need one more minute.
One minute he might not have.
The voices grew louder as they entered the villa. Volkov and Reka, speaking in rapid-fire Russian. Skeet couldn’t understand most of it, but he caught fragments.
“Bangkok . . . Tomas . . .”