Page 56 of Business vs. Pleasure

August

He’s in the VIP lounge.

Ricardo gritted his teeth. He didn’t like that August was in there with him, even with a disguise to be sure Darrow didn’t recognize him. Not that Darrow was interested in killing them, but if NightRaven was getting close to Darrow, then he’d be getting close to August. In an airport. Where access to weapons was woefully limited, and where law enforcement would get involved in the slightest altercation.

Any sign of NightRaven?

Thought I smelled him, but it was just a guy with awful gas. (gagging emoji)

Ricardo managed a laugh at that. As always, August being snarky meant he was dialed in.

He’d be fine. He knew how to take care of himself, and for all Ricardo sometimes joked otherwise, he had a good head on his shoulders.

He’d be fine.

Still… too much time. Too many opportunities for someone to get to Darrow first. Or attack Ricardo. Or hurt August. Too many ways for NightRaven to make things go sideways. Patience was a virtue for an assassin, but it was not a virtue of Ricardo’s today. There were too many variables for his liking. Angry gray clouds swirled overhead, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were an omen. Of course it was the rainy season in Panama, and the sky opened up multiple times a day, but still. Ricardo was on edge. If a black cat wandered in front of the car, he’d probably⁠—

His Arturo Muñoz phone pinged.

Darrow

Finished with customs. On my way outside.

Ricardo took a deep breath. Then he wrote back.

Arturo

I’ll be there shortly. Black Mercedes.

He put the phone aside and drove out of the cell phone lot to the main entrance. Just as he was pulling up, the glass doors opened, and… there he was. Darrow was dressed in a yellow guayabera and white trousers, either because he was leaning into the local fashion or because he knew that would make the heat and humidity more bearable. Ricardo pulled up to the curb and got out.

He masked his Catalan accent with a Colombian one. “Mr. Darrow?”

Darrow looked right at him and his face broke into the kind of smile Ricardo fully expected from a sleazy salesman. “Señor Muñoz!” He stepped closer and extended his hand. “Wonderful to meet you in person.”

“Likewise. Shall we? It’s…” Ricardo gestured at the sky. “The rain’s going to start soon.”

Darrow glanced up, and he startled as if he hadn’t expected to see rainclouds gathering above a place that was two-thirds rainforest. He didn’t argue, though, and they put his luggage in the trunk before getting into the car.

Perfect timing, too—as Ricardo pulled away from the curb, a fat raindrop hit the windshield with an emphatic splat. It was quickly followed by more, the torrential downpour clobbering the roof and windshield until it sounded like gunfire.

“They weren’t kidding about the rainy season, were they?” Darrow shouted over the noise.

Ricardo forced a laugh and shrugged. “Rainforest.”

The rain came down hard for a while, limiting Ricardo’s visibility and forcing him well below the speed limit. He didn’t like that, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He especially didn’t like when, as they moved from the heaviest rain into a less violent shower, a gray car stayed on his tail. The car didn’t get close, but it seemed to be pacing Ricardo. Even after he’d changed lanes three times, the car was still there, and Ricardo didn’t like it. Paranoia, probably. They were on an expressway—a lot of cars would be heading in the same direction, and the day he’d already spent here had let him know drivers could be quite aggressive.

He took an exit. The gray car followed.

He went around a roundabout three times. The gray car did too.

Shit. Not good.

Beside him, Darrow tensed. “What’s going on? Are we being followed?” He started to twist around, but Ricardo snapped, “Don’t look.”

Darrow remained stock still in his seat. “Does someone know you’re here?”