43. Alexei #2
“Paddy,” I say into the comms. “We need a little more persuasion.”
Almost instantly, another explosion sends smoke and debris into the ballroom, throwing the already panicked crowd into total chaos. A phalanx of Roman’s men appear at our table, grim faced and rifles at the ready. “We need to go, boss,” says one of them.
“Him, too,” Roman says, jerking his head at Thorne.
“No fucking chance,” says his man tersely. “The whole city is under attack. The yacht is the only safe place, and I don’t know who is a threat—”
Oh, nicely done, I think, seeing Thorne’s eyes widen and his entire stance change.
“My name is Silas Thorne,” he says, speaking directly to Roman. “And we’re on the same side here. If you get me to safety, I guarantee you won’t regret it, Borovsky.”
Roman glances at his security guard. “Can we do it?” He does a good job of making it sound like a legitimate concern.
The guard’s only response is a grudging nod. He gestures to two of his men to go around and fetch Thorne. “But until we’re safely on the yacht, you do exactly as we say, you got it?”
Silas nods, any trace of hesitation gone.
I stand up, exchanging an uncharacteristic high five with Pavel.
The figures onscreen move through the crowd. As they approach the exit, Ballsack steps forward with his sidekick, clearly intending to ask Silas a question.
Thorne gives a surreptitious shake of his head, clearly warning him to back off.
“?Chingados!” Renata swears at the screen. “I need to hear Thorne give Ballsack the order.”
I touch my comms button. “Slow down, Roman. Let Thorne give the feds their orders before you leave.”
He obediently thrusts his leg between Kristi’s, forcing her to stumble, and pretends to go down with her.
“Get the product out of that warehouse,” his microphone catches Thorne saying.
Renata punches the air. “Jenkins,” she says into her radio. “You hearing this?”
“Oh, hell yes.”
“Get after Ballsack, but wait to see who else he calls. And stay back,” she warns. “I want to make sure we catch every one of these fuckers with their hands full of cocaine.”
“Copy that.”
Picking up her phone, Renata hits a number and speaks in rapid Spanish, her voice rising until she ends the call with a snapped, “?Basta!”
I give her a wry smile. “I take it your brothers still aren’t entirely happy about watching half the product that Sentinel stole get taken by law enforcement, while they stand by drinking tequila on a Lucchese riverboat.”
“Not at all,” she says cheerfully, looking not remotely bothered by that fact.
“But they understand the way it’s going to work.
” She glances sideways at me. “It helped when I told them their street crews had been given a pass by Miami PD, for the duration of your little operation, to dispose of as many enemies as they can find. It’s going to be like Pokémon fucking Go on rival cartels in Miami tonight.
Besides,” she says tightly, “even if my brothers are being forced to sit this one out, they’re still reclaiming over half their product, courtesy of the US Marshals office, all tied up in a pretty no-charges-attached bow.
It’s better than they have any right to expect, and they fucking know it. ”
I squeeze her hand briefly. “By the end of tonight, they’ll think it’s a good bargain.”
Her lips tighten. “Let’s hope they do,” she says rather grimly, “or this might be the last time we talk, Petrovsky.”
“They’re out,” Pavel says, switching to an outside camera so we can watch the group being bundled into cars. He sits back, running hands through his hair but still flicking rapidly between screens.
“Stage one complete,” I say into my comms. “You’re command center from here,” I say to Pavel. “You good?”
He twists his chin sideways without taking his eyes from the wall of screens he’s set up. “All good.”
“Then the next time you hear from us will be from the Guapa.” I grip his shoulder. “Stay frosty, Pavel.”
“Always am,” he mutters, holding a thumb up as I leave the compound.
I take the tunnel from the compound out to the dock. There’s no reason to think anyone is watching, but it always pays to be cautious.
“What you said back there,” I say as Renata and I walk it together. “If you’d rather your brothers not hear what happened to you, I’ll understand. Same goes for you. If you don’t want to listen to this, you don’t have to.”
“No.” Her face is set and grim. “If I’d just told my family about the rape when it happened, we could have dodged all of this. I used to wish, sometimes, that I’d been there the night you took care of Carter.” She glances at me. “But somehow I think this is better.”
“So long as you’re sure. Once we’re out there, it’s too late to change your mind.”
We come out onto the lawn as another explosion shakes the night. “You weren’t lying when you said your friend knows his pyrotechnics,” Renata says as we approach the dock. “What just went up?”