Chapter 11
SIMEON
Inever appreciated how slow a fucking car can go when racing against the clock. I admire the skill of my driver, but time is passing, and we are unsure if we will make it at all.
We can’t even check with our contacts on the inside because a misguided call could blow their cover and their lives would be over and so would our chances of rescuing Alice.
It’s strange how I consider we are rescuing her.
I doubt she will see it like that when she swaps one captor for another.
She believes she has a year of freedom. She believes wrong.
My intention is the same as Liam’s, but I like to think of myself as less of a psychopath.
I am indifferent to the woman, whereas he will no doubt enjoy breaking every part of her spirit and scattering the pieces so far they will never be complete again.
I’m amazed that Sydney has lasted so long, and I must admire her foresight and cunning.
If he stopped to notice what an asset she is, they would be more powerful because of it.
I have always admired her despite the fact that she’s as corrupt as her husband, but this latest act of betrayal is impressive even for her.
Which is why I sense a trap, but what other choice do we have?
Jack spends most of the journey communicating with our guards, updating me on their progress that appears to be a big fat fuck all. It’s as if Alice Zaferelli has disappeared into thin air, and I don’t enjoy the sensation of losing control.
I’m in unfamiliar territory and it pisses me the fuck off.
After an eternity, we reach the private airfield and I recognize Liam’s jet almost immediately.
“Why is that jet moving toward the fucking runway?”
My sharp question causes Jack to groan. “Fuck!”
My anger builds as I register the gleaming jet disappear to the start of the runway, and I know that as soon as the jet takes off, it’s game over.
“The pilot better come through.” I growl, knowing that if those wheels leave the ground, he will have a lot of explaining to do.
“There’s still time.”
Jack attempts to reassure me, and as we pass through the security gates, the guard on duty quickly pockets the bundle of cash my driver hands him. Money certainly cuts through red tape, and I have spent a lot of it over the years ensuring our organization thrives.
Money can’t help me now, and as the jet begins its journey down the runway, I have never felt so helpless in my life.
It’s down to one man to prevent the jet’s wheels from leaving the ground, and I wonder if we have paid him enough to stop that from happening.
“Wait for it.” Jack is talking to himself as he stares at the jet, almost not breathing as we wait for something that may never happen.
The jet increases its speed and my fist curls, my heart beating so fast it may take off with the bird about to take flight. I could be about to witness Alice Zaferelli’s ascent into hell because I’m in no doubt at all that Liam Dettori will not make marriage to him a pleasant experience.
Jack takes a call and huffs with frustration. “Deal with it.”
“Deal with what?”
He lowers his phone.
“Antony tells me there’s a priest attempting to leave the airfield. He told the guard he was brought in to conduct a marriage service on board that jet.”
“And?”
The pulse in my jaw is throbbing angrily, and Jack groans. “He did what he was asked.”
“So–”
The priest has been warned to tell nobody and admit nothing. Wipe it from his memory and never admit he was here.”
“I want that certificate.”
I am leaving nothing to chance, and Jack huffs. “He left it with Liam.”
It’s rare I feel so helpless, and as the jet screams down the runway, I sense failure for probably the first time in my life.
Then the engines scream as the jet slams on the brakes, smoke pouring from the wheels as the jet aborts the takeoff.
“We’re on.”
Jack barks instructions into his phone, and my heart thumps as the jet screeches to a stop.
I note the fire truck heading toward the jet, and Jack tells our driver to follow it, along with the other three cars tailing us. I remove my gun and cock the barrel, Jack retrieving his and arming two more, handing one to me with an evil grin.
“I fucking love this shit.” He adds, causing a brief smile from me, replacing the surly frown that has darkened my features since I learned of this mission.
The fire truck arrives at the aircraft and as the crew exit and roll steps up to the aircraft, I watch as they hack the door open, their guns replacing the fire hose.
As I said before, money opens many doors, and when Jack instructed my guards to replace the fire officers, I applauded his genius.
As they storm the aircraft, shots ring out and as we bolt from the car, I join the steady stream of guards pouring onto the jet.
There is only one destination I have in mind, one person in my sights, and it’s not Liam Dettori.
As I enter hell, the sound of death is heavy in the air.
Groans are quickly silenced as guns do the job far quicker than nature ever could.
My men are machines and operate that way, and as they move through the plane, surprise is their best form of attack.
Dressed as fire officers gifts them the element of surprise, and I am assured that not one of Liam’s men will live to bear witness to the execution.
However, I don’t have time to appreciate the beauty of the moment because the first person I come to is one terrified woman who is staring at the scene in horror, firmly strapped to her chair.
Lying dead at her feet is the man himself. Liam Dettori, mafia don, executed in cold blood.
His glassy eyes stare up at the ceiling, an open wound leaking his blood at the feet of an angel.
I waste no time in slicing the ropes binding her to the chair and, without a word, I reach out and grab her wrist, pulling her roughly from the plane after me.
There is no time for niceties, no matter how terrified she must be, because Alice Zaferelli has only herself to blame for this, and I am so angry I’m liable to make a bad situation a lot worse.