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time. After two beeps a green light came on and the heavy fireproof door swung open. He walked out and got into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with his colleagues. For a moment he wondered if he should grab his laptop sitting on his desk or just get the hell out of there. But the program he needed to run the databases was on it. It was early morning; he had worked beyond the time he predicted it would take and workers were coming in. A fast-paced stride to his desk should do it, he decided.
    Aazim’s nerves were stretched to breaking point when he saw Sam appear on the other side of the office and walk toward him. Sam was preoccupied with reading a report, but as he drew near he looked up and nodded a greeting. Aazim smiled and held the door open for him, pale faced and saturated in sweat.
    Sam turned and asked politely, ‘Aazim, is everything okay? You look unwell.’
    ‘I’m fine thanks, just a little tired,’ he replied nervously.
    ‘Don’t spend too much time in the server room, the air-cons are not healthy for you.’ His duty as the concerned manager now complete, Sam walked on, turning his attention back to his notes.
    Aazim made his way towards the desk via a maze of cubicles and pulled his laptop out of the docking station. Not bothering to power it down, he shoved it in his backpack and made his way to the elevators and out to the car park. He figured he had about five minutes before the server sent Sam an audit report. He needed to get out fast.
    Adrenaline rushed through Aazim’s body as he fishtailed out of the car park, the reality of his actions sinking in. Was he nuts? What was he thinking? But he knew there was no going back: he was committed to seeing this through regardless of the danger he now faced. Reversing what he’d just done was not an option. He knew the information held on that tiny disk could flip the company upside down and cause chaos in the financial markets. It was now in his hands to do with as he wished.
    Aazim looked in the rear-vision mirror to check if anyone was following him, and to take a last look at the Aust Global Fund sign, an imposing symbol on a modern building that he now realised hid so many secrets.
    The vibrating mobile phone in his pocket startled him. He took it out and saw that Sam was trying to reach him.
    It had begun.
     
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    Bill McKane picked up his mobile phone before the ringing became unbearable. His secretary was no longer with him; she hadn’t been paid in weeks and there wasn’t much for her to do anyway.
    ‘Mr McKane?’
    ‘Yes, how can I help you?’ Half in a daze from a hangover, he struggled to speak clearly.
    ‘You are a private investigator, yes?’
    ‘Yes,’ he drawled.
    Seeming to sense Bill’s tired tone, the man asked, ‘Have I got you at a bad time?’
    ‘Nah, you’re right.’ Bill stretched on the office couch and hoped the call wouldn’t take long.
    ‘You’ve been highly recommended by a mutual friend. I hope you have a moment to discuss a certain matter of concern.’ The man had an English accent and sounded well educated.
    ‘Okay then, who am I speaking to and what can I do for you?’ Bill was annoyed when people didn’t introduce themselves, as if he was expected to know who they were.
    ‘My apologies, my name is Saeed Hammoud. I’ve been told that you are a professional and you work alone. I have a job for you if you’re interested.’
    ‘Well, I’m a bit tied up at the moment, Saeed. It all depends on what your problem is and how long it’ll take.’ It was a lie. He hadn’t had a customer in months and his landlord was about to evict him.
    ‘Are you alone?’
    ‘I am, you can speak freely.’ Bill stretched towards his desk for a nearly empty bottle of scotch and poured himself a straight shot for a morning pick-me-up.
    ‘I would like you to keep all our discussions confidential. It’s a sensitive matter, you see. Can I trust you with this?’
    ‘My work depends on my keeping my