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He smiled gently and rested his forehead to my temple. “I really need you.”
Cool. I’d just wanted to hear him say it again.
“You’re forgiven.” I pecked his lips quick. “These twenty-four hours—I have a suggestion that goes a tad beyond scouting the Blanco territory and finding the ins and outs.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “Explosives. Explosives are always a good idea. You never know when you need them.”
* * *
I suppressed a yawn as I followed Adrien out of the private jet.
We’d gotten three hours of sleep in there…
If I were to test my math skills, I’d say we’d snagged about nine hours of sleep in the past three days. In other words, we were good to go, and life was great. Or something. It was possible spending a year working for Elliott had spoiled me. I was used to getting a full night’s rest these days.
Aside from being exhausted, though, I felt good. More prepared, better informed. We’d put our time here to good use so far, driving around, mapping out the outer perimeter of the Blanco territory. Well, one of his territories.
In a village outside Pasto, Luca had built up his own infrastructure that sure as fuck wasn’t visible on GPS. Including this well-lit aircraft hangar with white concrete flooring—it was glossier than my cousin Amelia’s lip gloss selfies on Insta—that housed two private jets.
We’d literally borrowed one to “freshen up” when we’d arrived earlier.
Four guards manned the hangar and the airstrip, and they’d greeted Adrien like royalty. Not even asking where we’d come from. He’d just requested to use one of the jets to get ready, and they’d let us board. They didn’t know we’d recently spent several hours lurking around in the rainforest.
Granted, we’d already looked fresh as fuck upon our arrival, but for a man like Rafael Delgado, a crooked tie could be enough to need a moment.
Marco’s men drove into the hangar in two nice SUVs with tinted windows.
Right on time.
And…action.
“Don Rafael—uhm, señor Delgado,” one of the goons greeted awkwardly, “vengo a llevarlo donde el patrón Marco Blanco. Por aquí, por favor.”He opened the door to the back seat of the SUV.
Adrien didn’t respond verbally. He merely inclined his head and handed me his briefcase.
I followed close behind, glad my duties had nothing whatsoever to do with opening my mouth. I was here to keep an eye out and study every threat.
Since I followed Adrien into the car, the other men simply assumed he wanted me with him. They didn’t question him or propose I ride in the other car. Adrien had warned that might happen.
Everyone knew their place in this lifestyle.
They hadn’t asked me for my weapons—yet. I didn’t know if they would.
It had to be a strange feeling for those who lived in my fake position for real. Guards who were disposable and rarely acknowledged, but still regarded higher than many others, based exclusively on who they worked for. Luca Blanco’s own guards were exactly the same. Low-men respected them but treated them like they didn’t exist.
I determined that I was somewhat free to move, so I checked the satphone and acted like I didn’t have cartel rules to follow, or whatever I was supposed to call them. ’Cause I knew they were coming. In no way were they gonna let us pass through the Blanco gates without giving some spiel. Right?
Come on, Elliott.
He hadn’t responded to my update. We were going on five hours since I’d gotten the satphone to work again. Five hours since I’d given him everything he needed to know in order to catch Carillo at his temporary safehouse in France.
The clock was ticking. Carillo was being moved to Spain tomorrow.
I peered out the window.
Dirt road and rainforest.
