Page 71 of Savage Ruin
The phone rings. It’s Mateo. My stomach cramps with nerves.
* * *
Paulo Costa Fontesinsists on flying home with Raider and Mateo on SEI’s private jet. With a contingency of guards, of course. He feels it’s important to attend Ronaldo’s sendoff personally. Plus, he needs to pick up the jet Ronaldo used to get to Miami.
Everything is going down tomorrow night.
Our Little Havana outing is cut short, and we head back to the office.
On the way, he calls his contact at the Miami Herald. “I need a favor. Would you mind coming to my office?”
When he hangs up, I turn and face him. “I assume we’ll want to give Paulo the money your father stole from the cartel?”
Thiago’s brow furrows. “I didn’t think about it, but yes.”
“Your father has two-factor authentication set up on his account. I can view the information in the account without triggering it, but to access it and change the password, it will require the security code,” I explain to him. “He’ll receive the code as a text on his phone.”
“Which means changing the passwords to give Paulo access will have to be done at the last minute and you’ll have to be there,” he summarizes the dilemma. “Damn it. I didn’t want you anywhere near the airport.” A slew of curse words in English and Portuguese leave his mouth.
We’re making the exchange at the hangar. Logically, it makes sense for Ronaldo to be hopping on a plane after his “death”, but it also allows Paulo and his men to leave on their jet without the US government ever knowing they were here.
“Are you sure Mateo can’t do it?” His voice is raw when he asks.
“My program,” I quip, refusing to add any emotion to the already charged atmosphere. “It will be fine.”
He reaches over and grips my chin. “I hate putting you in this position. And I don’t care if you’ve done it in the past. It wasn’t for me.”
“Hmm, I could say the same about Austin. Remember the shooter?” I don’t say anything else knowing he’ll get the point. “We’ll do whatever it takes to come out of this alive and on the other side.”
A glint of admiration and heat shimmers in his eyes. “You’re right.” Hard lips plant a kiss on my mouth. “Let’s go.”
The rest of the afternoon is spent crafting an article for the fake paper we’re printing. It takes thirty minutes to craft a story and add realistic images to it. The reporter also brought a ton of stories and ads from the past in an electronic format we can use to create realistic pages. Thankfully, it’s only the front-page section—a few pages—but it’s still a lot of work to add the advertisements and stories. In exchange for helping us create it, the reporter gets exclusive access to the yacht party.
He hands us a piece of paper with the address of the printer they use for the Miami Herald. Details matter when you’re trying to con someone.
Dan, Thiago’s contact, gets up to leave a few hours later. He pauses and wags a finger between us. “Any chance I can get a pic of the two of you? A bit for the gossip column? It could net me a favor for the future.”
Thinking of our idea last night, we both nod.
I hold up a finger. “Why don’t we take it outside in the courtyard? It would look less staged. Like we were saying goodbye or greeting each other.”
Dan’s face lights up. “Great idea!”
We inform the security team, and they secure the outside for a few minutes. Thiago pulls me into his body and bends his head toward me. I grip his biceps and raise my chin. For a minute, we stand there staring at each other.
“Fantastic!” Dan shouts. “You two are fire. Thanks a lot.” He packs up. “I’ll be on the lookout for my invite to the party.”
I turn back to Thiago. “We need to get to the printer. Let’s go.”
“Just a second,” he rasps. His lips descend on mine, and he gives me a deep, very thorough kiss. “Now we can go.”
Dazed, I look up at him and wonder where all this is coming from. It’s not like him to be spontaneous. “Lead on.”
Thiago gives the printer a substantial incentive to print several copies of the newspaper for us. We want it to look like a stack instead of a single copy.
It comes out perfect. I sigh with relief. “This was the last item, right? Zane and his team are ready. The other SEI jet has been moved to the hangar. I’ve got everything set up on this extra laptop to make the changes to the accounts. The only thing left to do is call your father. Why don’t we head home to eat with Grayson? You can call after dinner.”
He rolls his shoulders to ease the tension. “Maybe after dinner and a session on the bag. Let’s go home.”
