Page 72 of Shared By the Pilots

“Sure, we’ll give him a try for a few flights,” he told me. “Consider this a favor.”

“I owe you one,” I said, realizing now why he had agreed so quickly. I just hoped the favor he eventually called in was easy to fulfill.

Adam and I came up with a plan that involved the two of us being assigned to one of Alan Broussard’s flights. After calling in another favor to one of the other Excelsior pilots, I was able to move some assignments around and get on a Broussard flight to Cabo along with Adam. The flight attendant who was currently dating Veronica was a consummate professional, treating Broussard like he was any other rich customer without acting suspicious.

It was an early flight, and we landed in Cabo before noon. Broussard and his associate unloaded their plethora of suitcases from the plane and pushed the bag carts down the tarmac.

“You want to get some food?” my co-pilot asked, checking his watch. “I know it’s early, but I’m starving.”

“You go on ahead without me,” I replied. “I need to do some shopping for a friend.”

“Do you mind if I tag along?” Adam asked me, bolstering our cover story. “My sister is having a Cinco de Mayo party and I promised to bring souvenirs.”

Adam and I got in a taxi and told him to pull around to the entrance to the private terminal, where Broussard was still loading his pickup truck. “When that truck leaves, I want you to follow it,” I said.

The taxi driver gave me a bewildered look. “Tell me where to go.”

“I don’t know where we’re going. Just follow that truck.”

He gestured at his watch. “This is prime taxi time. I’m losing fares by sitting here.”

“The meter’s still running,” Adam pointed out. “You’re getting paid.”

“For minutes, not miles! Every second we’re parked here, I’m taking a pay cut!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” I pulled out some cash and handed it to him. “Happy?”

The driver was cooperative from that point on. He even seemed like a professional as he followed Broussard’s truck, staying several cars behind and never losing sight. We followed them through Cabo, eventually turning off the main road and pulling up to a souvenir shop close to the touristy area.

“Cool,” Adam said. “Our cover story actually lines up now. I’ll go in and buy something.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want them to see you. It might make them suspicious.”

“You think something is going on at a souvenir shop?” the driver asked us with a laugh. “There’s a tequileria in the back. Legitimate business. Are we sitting here, or are you going to get out so I can get another fare?”

I grumbled, but handed him some more cash.

“I’m getting some sugar candy for my son.” The driver turned off the car. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait!” I said. “We need to be ready to leave when they do.”

“Stop worrying. I’ll be back real quick.” He exited the car and walked inside.

“I hope he’s not ratting us out to Broussard,” Adam said. “He could probably get paid by tipping him off.”

I blinked. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Too late now.” Adam pointed. “They didn’t unload all the suitcases. There are still four more in the bed of the pickup truck.”

“They’ll probably get them after loading the others.”

“Yeah, probably.” Adam checked his phone. “You talked to Veronica lately?”

“A couple of days ago,” I replied carefully. “She told me she had COVID.”

“Right.” Adam looked away. Was he hiding something?

“Veronica is a special woman,” I said.

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