Chapter 30
Vissarian
“How far to the airport?” I asked the driver.
Fifteen minutes had passed with no further interruption, but I knew the ordeal was far from over.
“Five minutes, sir,” the soldier answered.
I had to admit that I was more than impressed with how Carlos had built his business. He was certainly on the wrong side of the law, but he’d used Cuba’s strategic location to his benefit.
“Change in plans. We’ll refuel in Texas.
Can you make arrangements when we get on the plane?
” I asked Fallon. She’d remained quiet, doing nothing but stroking Bella.
I could tell she was lost in her thoughts, likely held prisoner with the knowledge of her real identity.
It was a lot to take in and given we’d barely had time to adjust, constantly placed in danger, I also knew the rush of adrenaline would soon begin to fade.
“Texas. Yes, I can. What will happen once you take me to Vegas?” Her voice had lost some of its oomph. At least she was no longer holding the weapon with white-knuckled fingers as if it were a lifeline.
If I knew her, she was also feeling guilty about taking a life. Perhaps she didn’t realize she’d saved mine.
My little fireball.
“Then we develop a plan.”
She slowly turned her head toward me. “I am not marrying some Russian asshole under any circumstances.”
“Are you talking about all Russian guys or one in particular?”
With the narrowing of her eyes, I sensed she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “We shall see.”
I laughed. So did Alessandro and Stefano.
“Don’t underestimate Bruni. The patriarch is a real asshole,” Stefano stated.
“You’ve dealt with him before?” I asked.
The two brothers looked at each other. “A long time ago,” Alessandro answered. “He’s cutthroat and doesn’t care who he needs to eliminate to get what he wants.”
“Then I’ll enjoy slitting his throat.”
My words drew another flash of her eyes. “Don’t. You’re not a killer.”
“Apparently even after all we’ve been through, you don’t know me very well.”
I was surprised when she grabbed my hand, squeezing. “Do you see this little fur ball right here?”
“You mean the one that helped me save you?”
“Dogs never lie. They weed through the bullshit and rage, sadness and every other emotion. They can smell a bad person from a mile away. Bella adores you. That tells me everything I need to know.”
Little did she know just how far I’d go to keep her safe.
Carlos leaned forward. “Let me do the talking at the airport.” When he drifted his gaze in Fallon’s direction, I laughed seeing how she rolled her eyes.
“Fine by me.” I rubbed the scruff on my jaw, realizing I hadn’t shaved since I’d left. From where I was sitting, I had a decent view of the road. Less than a minute later, I noticed a sign for the airport. “Put your game faces on. Things are about to get dicey.”
This time, I squeezed her hand and the way she looked at me was as if asking if everything would be alright.
I refused to lie to her. At this point, perhaps I should leave it up to divine intervention.
Carlos reached into a bag, doling out automatic weapons like candy. “Be careful who you point these things at. The Cuban police don’t appreciate gringos getting in their faces.”
“Something I remember not so fondly.” I grabbed one, thankful the man had our backs. “You brought the company jet?” I asked Alessandro.
“Something nice and plain. Unlike the monstrosity with the colorful paint job. I’m surprised you didn’t get arrested for being drug dealers.”
I could feel the heat of Fallon’s eyes on me. Hell, even Bella was looking at me as if part of this was my fault.
I was going to grill my brother for hours. If he had anything to do with the bad paint job, he’d regret his poor decision making. Even I had to grin. This was about as much excitement as I could handle for one week.
“Where is Bruni’s plane?” I asked.
Carlos sighed. “Other side of the airport.”
“Any idea who’s in charge?”
“If you’re asking if one of the assholes is in a suit, that I wouldn’t know.” Carlos grinned.
“Don Bruni doesn’t get his hands dirty, Viss,” Stefano said as he shook his head.
“What about Antonio Esposito? Do you know anything about him?” Fallon asked. “He’s my stepbrother.”
“Whew,” Alessandro hissed. “He’s bad news. All I know is that he’s called the Butcher for a reason. He’s not to be trusted by anyone, including by Don Bruni himself.”
Her brow furrowed. “This Don Bruni, my grandfather ordered Antonio to kill his own father and my mother.”
Both Stefano and Alessandro shook their heads. “I doubt it. If that’s the case, then Bruni won’t be happy,” Alessandro said. “The report of their murder is listed as a house invasion.”
“Bullshit. Antonio did it. I know he did.”
Exhaling, I thought about the scenario. “She’s right. Something to keep in the back of our minds.” And something that could be used to initiate talks with Bruni. Granted, I’d prefer to put a bullet into the man’s brain, but there was a need for diplomacy.
Damn it.
The driver and two other vehicles pulled into the airport without being stopped, heading to the private landing strip.
As soon as the gear was shifted into park, we all filed out.
“Get on the plane, Fallon. Do not look back. Get everything ready to go. If anything happens, you will take off even without me. Do you understand?”
“Stefano and I will be on your plane,” Alessandro said. “At least we have two options of getting out of here.”
Gio and DiAngelo were guarding their jet and while it wasn’t obvious they were carrying weapons, I knew what they and their men were capable of.
She turned to face me quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Period.”
“You will do as I say.”
“No.” She turned toward Carlos, taking a long stride and rising onto her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
“My pleasure, Ms. Zimmerman. You’re one fine lady. However, there is some bad news. One of the engines was still malfunctioning in the tests. You may need to stroke her carefully.”
The look in her eyes could only be described as mischievous. “I’m very good at stroking things.” She tossed me another look before heading toward the plane.
Immediately, Carlos nodded to two of his men to keep her protected during the walk.
Carlos sighed, shifting to face me seconds later. “Get on the plane, my friend. If we have issues, me and my men will handle it.”
“Not yet, buddy. Not yet.”
“Don’t do this. You have a lady to spend the rest of your life with.” Carlos was pleading with his eyes.
“Don’t forget who I am, Carlos. I never back down.”
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what scares me. I’ll handle cleanup this time. The next one is on you.”
I threw my arm out, once again shaking his hand. This time, he pulled me into a hug, clapping my back.
“Don’t let her get away, bubba,” he recommended. “She’s the one.”
“How do you know?” I tugged on the strap, slinging the rifle behind my back. I had to admit I preferred using a handgun. It felt much more personal.
He pulled away, pointing at me. “By the look in your eyes. You’re in love.” He laughed as he backed away until three of his heavily armed soldiers raced toward us.
“Fuck. Game on.”
“Go. Now!”
“You know I don’t take orders,”
I’d be goddamned if it wasn’t as if another point needed to be made. The roar of engines was from vehicles driving at a high rate of speed.
“Shit,” Carlos hissed. “Guns for hire. They’re bad news.”
“Where are the fucking police?” Alessandro snapped as we raced toward the speeding vehicles.
“Your friend doesn’t know Cuba,” Carlos yelled in return. “Bought and paid for by the highest bidder.”
I’d been in gunfights in my life during a time when my grief had fueled me to the point I’d felt invincible. I hadn’t cared if I’d lived or died.
Now that wasn’t the case. Maybe Carlos was right.
Yet there was no other choice but to take on the fight. The next few moments were harried, gunfire coming from all directions.
Carlos’ men were well trained, their manpower a godsend.
Bodies were strewn across the tarmac. We were gaining traction.
Taking a deep breath, I turned in a circle, firing off a single shot.
Then out of the corner of my eye I noticed one of the bastards had broken free, using the melee to head toward the plane.
The two soldiers who’d walked with Fallon had been called to action when the attack had broken out.
Only ten feet away from the ladder, I sprinted toward him, lunging forward and through the air.
I hit him with full force, both of us tumbling to the concrete.
Even hitting his head didn’t stop him. He attempted to butt me with his weapon, but I was too quick for him, delivering two brutal punches into his face.
The fucker was strong, able to turn me over, so he had control.
When he did, the Beretta flew from my hand, spinning until it was just out of reach.
Oh, hell, no. I refused to allow the son of a bitch to have the advantage.
When he tried to choke me using his rifle, I stretched my arm, struggling to reach my weapon while I snapped the other hand around the cold metal, using all my strength to try to keep him from crushing my windpipe.
We both groaned from exertion. The look in his eyes was feral. He likely had no clue who I was. It was all about the thrill of the kill.
I’d had enough. The engines on the plane were fired up and ready to go. Suddenly, Cuba seemed oppressive.
“Aaahhhh…” I gritted out, stretching. Still stretching. The moment I wrapped my fingers around my weapon, I didn’t hesitate.
I barely had time to close my eyes before I pulled the trigger, the shot at close range.
Fuck.
Now I’d need a goddamn shower. Shoving him off, I scrambled to my feet as I heard footsteps.
“Go. Go. Go!” Alessandro directed.
This time, I didn’t argue, but before I climbed onto the plane, I rubbed my face with my arm and searched the area looking for Carlos.
Found him.
Or maybe he found me.
After issuing a salute, which he’d done several times since the start of our friendship, he headed toward the airport.
It was damn good to have friends.
Once I was inside the plane with the door closed, I allowed myself to take a deep breath.
“How are you doing in there, Captain Zimmerman?”
Alessandro had had the forethought of grabbing a towel. As he tossed it to me, his eyes reflected the scene of horror with my appearance.
“We have a problem,” she called and Bella woofed immediately afterward.
I wiped my face and moved into the cockpit. The pup was sitting in the co-pilot’s chair. Right where she should be. “What?”
“They won’t let us take off. I’ve used every compliment I could think of.”
“You mean you cursed them out in every language you know.”
She threw me a look and instantly, her gaze fell slowly to my blood-coated shirt. Swallowing, she did what she could to accept the horror of what she was seeing. “Something like that. What do we do? I don’t know if I can outrun gunfire.”
“Just wait. Carlos will come through. He always does.”
“You’re going to need to tell me more about your friendship. That’s a demand.”
I continued staring out the windshield, noticing the several members of the National Revolutionary Police Force had finally arrived. And they were asking questions. Answers were being given, with finger pointing at the plane.
Well, fuck me.
If only one thing would go right about the situation, I’d promise never to do a bad thing in my life again.
Good thing I was crossing my fingers.
Fallon requested clearance to take off again and again was denied.
“Listen here, buddy,” she threw out, overriding her use of Spanish. “I am getting out of the goddamn country. Either give me clearance or you’ll need to purchase some new equipment and perhaps a building cause I’ll run right over you.”
Stefano whistled. “Tough lady.”
“You have no idea,” I told him. “Try and calm down, baby girl.”
“Not today,” she hissed.
A few seconds passed. A full minute and I was certain she was going to follow through with the promise made.
When we were given the all clear, the two men behind me broke out in a cheer.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Alessandro growled.
“Yeah, let’s do that.” I squeezed her shoulder and mentally ticked off another serious issue.
How many others would we be forced to face before we could begin spending the rest of our lives together?