Page 42 of Coup De Grâce
“Fishing boat?” Scottie frowned. “No planes?”
“It’s easier to sneak him into Alaska on a boat. From there, he can take the ferry to Seattle, where no passport is needed, and voila! He’s back in the US.”
“Just like that,” Eva muttered. “Just a hop, skip, and a jump.”
“See? Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”
“I still think he should go to Ukraine,” Fox pouted. “It was a good fucking idea.”
“Yeah, if we want to start an international incident,” I retorted. “We want him alive.”
FNG spun around to face everyone, a huge grin on his face for having figured it all out. “So, now the only question is, who’s going to get him out?”
Every single fucking hand rose eagerly to help our leader out of the jam he was in. Not that I doubted any of them. Well, maybe Kavanaugh.
“Alright, so who wants the horrible task of getting him through Russia?”
15
CASH
I avoided being seenby everyone and anyone who might want to interact with me. The last thing I needed was to leave an impression on anyone. And a white male in the middle of the fucking desert was a huge red flag.
I was nearly to the border of Georgia, but I had to stop for fuel before I entered the line to cross the border. The papers Ibrahim got for me were good, but that didn’t mean they would stand up to scrutiny. Georgia was the most likely route for me, though, ensuring I was entering a United States-friendly territory. It was a chance I had to take.
Pulling into what looked like an abandoned gas station, I got out, stretching my legs and arching my back to work out the kinks of driving for so fucking long. I couldn’t wait to get the hell away from here and back to civilization. Hell, even Russia sounded pretty fucking good right about now.
Walking around to the pump, I took my time fueling, knowing I was still in for a good three-hour drive to Tbilisi.
“Excuse me,” a feminine voice said from behind me. I winced, thinking that poor woman sounded a lot like Kermit the Frog. “Would you be willing to give me a ride across the border? I lost my leg in the war and it’s an awfully long walk from here.”
Stiffening, I slowly turned and faced the hideous woman behind me, using only a scarf to disguise the beard on her face. My lips twitched with amusement as Thumper’s robotic leg stuck out slightly from under the dress he was donning.
“I don’t know. Smuggling people across the border could get a guy killed.”
“Not if you have the right paperwork,” he said, patting his purse.
How the fuck did he even know where I was, let alone at this fucking gas station? That was a question for another time, though.
Nodding, I jerked my head toward the vehicle. “Sure. Get in.”
I ran inside and paid, keeping my eyes averted from the cashier as I handed over the money. Thankfully, Ibrahim had given me everything I needed to get by for a little while, but the money wouldn’t last forever.
As I got in, Thumper was adjusting his skirt, complaining about what a pain in the ass it was to wear that shit.
“This is fucking ridiculous. I never should have volunteered for this.”
“For wearing a dress?” I asked as I pulled back onto the road.
“To save your ass,” he clarified. “I should have let you fucking suffer after what an ass you’ve been.”
“Why are you here?”
It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for a friendly face, but why the hell had he traveled back to the sandbox? It didn’t make sense.
“Well, when you get targeted for a hit, having friends can be useful. Do you remember what friends are?”
Man, was I going to have to deal with this shit the rest of the fucking drive?
