Shirley and Michael Stuart are bored with their jobs and decide to look for excitement and travel to make life more interesting.

They answer an ad and are hired by Consort, Inc., a consortium of companies formed to strengthen their postions in the international marketplace. Thus begins a rollercoaster that takes them to several continents and involves them in life threatening events.

Every chapter leaves the pair, and the reader, wondering Now What?! Read this page turner, and you'll find the ending worth the ride.

Jay Bern has served as a Marine Officer in the Far East and as a consulting engineer on projects on various continents for several government and international organizations.

The occupation brought him, his wife and their three children to live in African, Asian and European countries.

After early retirement he took up writing and became a published author. His fiction stories encompass an undertone of life in relevant areas, thereby creating a special mixture of entertaining reading.

Michael took one from his wallet and handed it to the police officer, who looked at it: "Is this a recent photo?"

"Taken about a year ago."

Bosro nodded, excused himself and left the office. When he returned, he said to the downhearted Michael:

"I have sent two patrols out, that’s all I can spare at this time of the night. They’ll check where John Whitehead is staying and find out particulars about his vehicle. By the way, you don’t know what kind of car he is driving, don’t you?"

"No, I have never seen his car. Do you know anything about him personally?"

Bosro sighed: "We do not have such sophisticated systems of tracing people like you have in America, but tomorrow morning I hope to be able to tell you more about him."

With these words he let Michael go, who left the station and stood forlorn in the night, not knowing what to do or where to go. As in a dream he stepped in the car, started the engine and drove off, recalling vaguely the direction to the nightclub.

Automatically he drove on the right side of the road until he saw car lights coming directly at him. Suddenly alerted by the imminent danger, he applied the brakes with full force, flashed the lights and shouted: "You stupid asshole!" all in one moment.

At the very last moment, before he came to a stop, both drivers managed to swerve to the left and a collision was avoided but only with a few inches to spare.

In a routine generated by years of driving, he shifted the gear in park, switched off the engine and rested his head on his hands on the steering wheel.

As from a great distance he heard a car door slammed and running footsteps. Then the door at his side opened and an agitated voice blurted out: "Idiot; you want to get us killed driving on the wrong side of the road?" With a shock it dawned upon Michael that he himself was the asshole.

He stepped out of the car and faced the other person, a burly middle-aged man.

Feeling miserable, he said: "I am very sorry, sir. I know it is no excuse, but I am American and being occupied with some problems, I routinely drove on the right hand side of the road."

"Ah, you are the one whose wife disappeared with another man from the dance floor?"