Chapter 1
“Frankfurt Airport is paging Mr. Eugene Harrison. Please come to the international terminal security office located near baggage claim.”
Riley Harrison tightened his well-worn backpack strap more securely over his shoulder as the announcement repeated itself.
He stopped and raised an eyebrow at his two traveling companions. They’d just gotten off a flight from Spain and were only at the Frankfurt Airport a couple hours before connecting to Sri Lanka.
“Something I need to know about? There a reason Frankfurt Airport security is paging me when I’ve only been in the terminal for five minutes?”
Riley had been in trouble with multiple governments numerous times over the course of his career as an adventure and extreme sport athlete. Ten years of traveling all over the world to participate in and film adventure events and stunts had not always made the governments happy. Especially when Riley had sometimes used his celebrity status—ten million YouTube followers strong—to try to effect some sort of change in the countries he traveled to.
Michelle McGinty, Riley’s longtime producer, pointed a thumb in Damon’s direction. “Dumbass over here had a different girl in his bed every night while we were in Spain. Wouldn’t surprise me if one of them was married or an international spy.”
Damon held up his hands. “Hey, having a good time isn’t illegal in Europe.” He frowned. “Wait, is it?”
Damon Sullivan could ride circles around people on a skateboard, was willing to BASE jump from heights most people considered reckless, and was the top-rated stunt hang glider in the world—way better than Riley could ever hope to be. But Damon wasn’t ever going to be called a mental giant.
Michelle rolled her eyes. “No, not keeping it in your pants isn’t illegal in Europe, sadly.”
Damon looked decidedly relieved as he opened a bag of mixed nuts. The tall, slender man was always snacking on something. “At least they used your middle name.”
Riley rolled his eyes. “I doubt my full name would cause any riots.”
Maybe a few fans might have recognized his name if they’d paged him by Riley Harrison, but probably not even then.
Phoenix, on the other hand… Yeah, he was much more recognizable by that name. Phoenix was the person people turned out in droves for to watch perform all sorts of ridiculous stunts. And even more watched—and rewatched—him online.
But Eugene Harrison? Eugene wasn’t even on his passport, so security wouldn’t have known it. There were only a few people in the world who knew his middle name.
One of whom he was pretty desperate to see. Was always pretty desperate to see.
He tilted his head toward the baggage claim sign. “Let’s go see what trouble we’re in.”
Riley picked up the pace. He was already familiar with Frankfurt Airport—hell, he was familiar with almost every major airport in the world—so he knew where they were headed.
The gate agent working the counter in front of the office gave them a brief nod, obviously expecting them. She opened the door to the small office. Riley bit back his disappointment at the sight of the two men behind the table.
“Damn, Wyatt, look at Boy Riley’s crestfallen face,” Gavin Zimmerman said. “I think he was legitimately hoping we were security.”
Riley grinned and shook his head. “More like legitimately hoping you were Girl Riley. I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
Both men came around the table and hugged Riley. Gavin Zimmerman and Wyatt Highfield were founding partners of Linear Tactical and Riley’s good friends.
Linear Tactical was a survival and defense training company that operated out of Oak Creek, Wyoming. Groups—both civilian and law enforcement—came from all over the country to train there. Groups came because of the facilities and equipment Linear had available, but also to work with the former Green Berets who made up most of the company’s employees, including these two men.
Linear Tactical taught everything from wilderness survival, to self-defense, to situational awareness, to weapons training. They were known as some of the best in the world.
But training wasn’t the only thing they did. And Riley knew that’s why Gavin and Wyatt were here.
The other stuff Linear Tactical did.
Michelle and Damon gave Gavin and Wyatt a wave from the door as the guys sat back down.
“I’m just glad to see you’re not the morality police,” Damon said.
Michelle narrowed her eyes at Damon. “You do know that the morality police is not an actual law enforcement unit, right?”
Riley raised an eyebrow at Gavin as Michelle and Damon bickered—per usual. “Speaking of law enforcement, Germany’s a long way out of your jurisdiction, Sheriff.”
Gavin shrugged. “Sheriff Nelson is temporarily back in the office to see how it goes with his health. I volunteered to help Wyatt, so I’m out of the sheriff’s hair. Nelson doesn’t need the temporary sheriff hanging around while he decides what he wants to do.”
Wyatt’s nod was solemn. They were obviously here for business.
Michelle picked up on that too. “How about if Einstein and I go grab a bite to eat? I have a feeling our plans are about to change anyway.”
Riley nodded. “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
He turned back to Gavin and Wyatt once the door closed, and they all sat down around the small table. “You guys know I have a phone, right? You don’t have to fly halfway around the world just to talk to me.”
“But then we wouldn’t get to see your pretty face.” Wyatt grabbed his tablet and punched in a code. “How are you at sandboarding?”
The sport—which was basically snowboarding, but on sand—had been rising in popularity in recent years. It was always going to be limited because its geographic parameters, the need for sand and hills, meant it could only be pursued in certain locations.
Riley leaned back in his chair. “Not as good as I am at snowboarding, but better than I am at, let’s say, ballroom dancing. Why? What’s going on?”
Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. “We know you have a couple of days off before Sri Lanka. We were hoping you’d consider doing an unscheduled stunt stop in Egypt.”
Riley nodded. He already knew why the guys were here—not the specifics, but in general. And it had nothing to do with stunts.
Wyatt Highfield had been head of Linear Tactical’s kidnapping and corporate security division for as long as Riley had known him. Whereas most of the Linear team lived at the home base in western Wyoming, teaching survival intelligence to civilians, Wyatt had been floating around for years, going wherever he was needed.
Wyatt was amazing at what he did. He’d gained the nickname Scout in the Special Forces for a reason. He was able to read and defuse ugly situations. It had made him invaluable in ransom negotiations. And if things turned south, Wyatt had an innate skill for handling things quickly and quietly. He never drew attention to himself. But he almost always got the job done—and kidnap victims home.
If Wyatt was here, the situation was dire, and they needed Riley’s help. This wasn’t the first time they’d met in a tiny office somewhere.
Because of his profession and notoriety, Riley sometimes had access to places others couldn’t get into easily.