Page 116 of Code Name: Typhon

I raced to the front of the aircraft the minute we came to a stop, then down the airstairs as soon as they were lowered. Two SUVs waited on the tarmac. I got in one, and Tank and Blackjack got in the other.

We still hadn’t picked up Ripa on the airport footage nor had we been able to reach him. I was absolutely certain Maximo had arranged for someone to jam his signal. Our calls and messages wouldn’t even register on Ripa’s mobile if that was the case.

“We’ve got him,” said Blackjack.

“Where the hell is he?”

“Maximo just met him at security.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I shouted.

Neither Tank nor Blackjack had the credentials to get through the checkpoint. Even Angel wouldn’t be able to since she’d come on the private, versus public, section of the airfield. And if I tried, I might as well put a bullseye on my back.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Ripa and de Rossi are talking, but I’m unable to pick anything up. The plane is pulling up to the gate,” Blackjack reported.

“What’s Maximo doing?” I asked.

“Still with Ripa.”

“Continue attempting contact.”

“Every thirty seconds, boss.”

Several minutes passed without an update. Finally, Blackjack reported passengers were exiting the plane.

“No sign of Ramsey, sir.”

My eyes opened wide, and I thought about banging my head on the steering wheel. Maximo wasn’t there for Brand; he was there for Penelope.

My mobile rang with a call from Brand.

“Someone’s got Penelope,” he said before I had the chance to speak. “She wasn’t on her flight. I received a text, a few minutes ago, from whoever has her. It said he knows who I am and that I have to follow his instructions—and this is a direct quote—‘if I ever want to see my Butterfly again.’”

“Where are you?”

“At the airport in Florence,” said Brand.

“I know that. Where exactly?”

“Terminal B, and what the hell, Typhon? I just told you someone abducted Penelope.”

“I heard you. Where’s Maximo?” I shouted.

“Probably looking for me. How did you even know he was here?”

“I just did. Listen, it’s imperative you get out of the airport now. Find the nearest lift and take it all the way to the lowest level. Go to door twenty-seven. I’ll be there, waiting.”

“You’re here?”

“If you aren’t on your way to a lift, you’re wasting time.”

I was already in position when Brand ran from the lift to the SUV.

“Get in!” I shouted.

“What the fuck is going on?”

---