In my office, Welch, Taylor, and I pore over the report. Welch’s grizzled face is craggier than ever in the harsh morning light, his expression grim. “At the moment, the NTSB only suspects sabotage, but we should proceed as if there was malicious interference. To that end, we’ve checked through all the CCTV footage at the helipad in Portland and found no suspicious activity.” He shuffles in his chair and clears his throat. “However, there’s an issue in the GEH hangar at Boeing Field.”

Oh?

“Two of the cameras were inoperative, so we don’t have complete coverage.”

“What! How did that happen?” What the fuck do I pay these people for?

“We’re endeavoring to find out,” Welch answers, his voice deep and gravelly like an old car exhaust. “It’s a major breach.”

No shit, Sherlock. “Who’s responsible?”

“There’s a rolling shift system. So, it’s down to four or five people.”

“If they’re found to be negligent, they’re fired. All of them.”

“Sir.” He glances at Taylor.

“At present, we have no leads as to who’s behind this,” Taylor says.

“There’s going to be a forensic examination of the aircraft,” Welch adds. “My hope is that they’ll turn something up.”

“I want more than fucking hope!” I raise my voice.

“Yes, sir.” Both men speak at the same time. Each of them looks contrite.

Hell. It’s not their fault. Grey. Get a grip.

I continue in a more measured tone. “Find out who fucked up at the hangar. Fire them. And as soon as we have an idea of what occurred, I want to know. In the meantime, make sure the jet’s secured and it’s safe.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor says.

“We’re on it,” Welch growls. He’s pissed. He should be, this has happened on his watch. “The National Transportation Safety Board is all over this and I expect they’ll brief law enforcement as their inquiries continue and, if appropriate, invite them to investigate in parallel. I’ll circle back with the NTSB to confirm this.”

“The police?” I ask.

“No. It’ll be the FBI.”

“Okay. Maybe they’ll find something. Where are we with backup close protection?” I ask Taylor.

“Both Reynolds and Ryan are available and will start today.”

“I want to keep Anastasia out of this. She doesn’t need the worry. And I want to see the shortlist of who might be behind this. I have to say I’m at a loss.”

“My team is compiling a list of potential suspects,” Welch says.

“I’ll do the same.”

“Sir, now that this is on the FAA site, the press may pick it up and start asking questions,” Taylor says.

Shit. “You’re right. You can brief Sam now. I’ll get him up here.”

“Will do,” he responds.

If this is going public, I have to tell Ana, too.

How the hell did we come to this?

Sabotage!

I do not need this shit right now.

I leave the two men discussing likely suspects and poke my head out of the door. Andrea looks up from her computer. “Mr. Grey?”

“Ask Sam and Ros to join us.”

“Will do.”

There’s a knock on my office door. It’s Andrea. “Would you like more coffee?” she asks.

“Please.”

On my computer screen is a list of all the acquisitions I’ve made since I started my company. I’m going through each one to see if I can find any potential suspects. So far I’ve drawn a blank; it’s depressing. Deep down I’m worried about Ana—if someone wants to hurt me, she could end up as collateral damage. How could I live with myself if that was the case?

“Latte?”

“No. Black. Strong.”

“Yes, sir.” She closes the door and an e-mail pops up from my girl.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Quiet Before/After the Storm?

Date: June 21 2011 14:18

To: Christian Grey

My dearest Mr. Grey

You are most quiet today. This concerns me.

I hope all is well in the land of high finance and business dealings.

Thank you for last night. You are quite the mouthful. ;)

Axx

PS: I see Mr. Bastille late this afternoon.

Ana! A warm flush spreads under my collar and I loosen my tie. She is quite the wanton with her choice of words. I type my response.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Storm is here

Date: June 21 2011 14:25

To: Anastasia Steele

My darling fiancée

I must congratulate you on remembering your BlackBerry.

The storm clouds are gathering here and I will apprise you of the weather report and coming deluge when home.

In the meantime, I hope Bastille is not too hard on you. That’s my job. ;)

Thank YOU for last night. Your stamina and your mouth continue to amaze me in the best of ways. ;) ;) :)

Christian Grey

Meteorologist & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

PS: I’d like to collect your remaining belongings from your apartment this week. You’re never there…

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Weather Predictions

Date: June 21 2011 14:29