Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Abasi had been ordered to cover Damien's private dock, but seeing as all it held was an empty boat and one bored guard, he didn't see the point in wasting time on it.
So, he knocked out the guard, tied him up and shoved him in a closet, then disabled the boat.
After that, he went to check out the flower warehouse. Now, that was much more interesting.
It was easy to take out the warehouse's security cameras.
The storm covered the gunshots. It also provided more than enough noise for him to pick the lock and sneak inside without alerting anyone to his presence.
Not that there was anybody there to see him.
The place was empty, apart from a light coming from beneath the secure room at the back of the building.
He made his way toward it, surrounded by hundreds of flowers.
The scent hit his senses like a battering ram, and he was thankful he didn't suffer from allergies.
Abasi had never understood the allure of cut flowers.
By definition they were dying as soon as they'd been removed from the plant.
Why would you give someone something that was dying? It didn't make sense to him.
He made his way straight to the secure room and deftly picked that lock too.
All the while, shaking his head at the piss-poor security Damien had in place.
The guy wouldn't have lasted two minutes on the London crime scene.
With a sigh of disgust, he opened the door and promptly shot the only guard stationed inside square in the head.
A woman screamed and Abasi held up a finger to his lips to shush her.
She instantly fell silent. So did her four companions.
The women were dressed only in their underwear, with bare feet and hair tied back. None of them looked damaged or under duress. Although, they were pretty damn freaked out at his sudden appearance.
Abasi gestured to the wall that didn't have stainless steel tables running along its length.
"Line up over there," he ordered. "And keep your hands up where I can see them."
They rushed to obey.
"Are there more guards?" he asked as he prowled the room, taking in Damien's drug smuggling set up.
“Not tonight,” one of the women said. “There’s an important meeting and the boss needed the men.”
There were bags of white powder at one end of the tables, which were used to fill much smaller bags before they were attached to bouquets of flowers and put in boxes, ready to be shipped out in the morning.
Still keeping an eye on the women, and his gun aimed their way, Abasi lifted one of the smaller bags and read the printing on it—plant food.
Cute. He strode to the wall of boxes, stacked near the roller door at the back of the room and opened the nearest box.
Sure enough, there was a bouquet with a bag of food taped to the stems. He read the labels on the boxes. They were all destined for America.
"How many boxes do you send to America daily?" he asked the women.
The one nearest him answered. "Maybe one hundred, two. I don't know for sure. Our job is to fill the bags and we only do that at night. The men take care of the deliveries in the mornings."
"That's a couple of hundred boxes with drugs," Abasi asked. "I’m guessing they go out as part of a much larger shipment that isn’t laced with product?”
"Yes," she said.
Abasi let out a whistle. There's no way they could ship that much into the US without bribing the hell out of customs. It made him wonder about the DEA agent who'd been working undercover.
Surely, he'd have told his handlers about an operation this size?
They should have raided the island before now.
It didn't make sense, unless the guy was on Damien's payroll.
He gave some thought to the women. "Are you paid to work here or forced to?"
The one nearest him wet her lips. "They pay good wages."
At least that was something. People deserved to get paid for a day's work. No matter what the work looked like. "Okay, where are your clothes?"
The first woman gestured to the dead guard. "He takes them until morning, so we can't hide drugs and steal from the boss. We don't know where he puts them."
Well, there was nothing he could do about getting them dressed.
Abasi took out his phone and gestured to the woman nearest him. "Take this and film everything. Start at the end of the table nearest the door and finish with what's inside the boxes."
She nodded and hurried to obey. As she did so, a familiar voice came over the radio attached to the dead man's belt.
"Anybody out there? This is Lake's friend. I'm all alone in this storm and looking for someone to talk to. If you're one of Lake's friends too, maybe you could answer and let me know if you're okay. I was outside earlier and took a beating from the weather. It's wild tonight. You hear me?"
Abasi smiled. Guess Max was still alive. Good for him.
He gestured to the dead man. "You with the red bra, get the radio and hand it to me."
The woman rushed to do as she was told and gave it to him with trembling fingers. Abasi didn't bother smiling to reassure her. They'd gotten themselves into this mess. They knew exactly what they were doing for their money and what the risks would be.
"Now, ladies," he said. "We have a problem. I can't let you tell Damien's crew about my visit here tonight, which means I'm not sure what to do with you. Any ideas?"
They shared a look before one of them piped up. "There's the ladies bathroom. It's big and has a lock, and the men don't use it. It's outside the building to the left. You could lock us in there and nobody will open it until morning."
Abasi was impressed. "Works for me. Lead the way."
It took no more than a couple of minutes to herd them outside and secure them in the little concrete room.
Abasi wasn't worried about them. There was a window for air, and they had water and a toilet.
Someone could deal with them in the morning.
Hopefully by then the team would be long gone from the island.
He took out the radio he'd gotten from the dead guy and turned the dial to channel seven.
"Hey Ginger," he said. "This is the Englishman.
I need you to pass a message on to your aunty.
" He grinned, Rochelle would hate being called Evan's aunt.
"She might want to tell her friends to hurry up and pay their respects over that dead relative of theirs.
They should know he's done a lot of good for his other family, looks like they've been very grateful too.
But I'm worried if your friends don't turn up soon, his legacy will have disappeared.
" Yeah, that wasn't very subtle, but talking in code had never been his thing.
All he could do was hope none of Damien's men were listening in.
"Aunty says she'll let them know," Evan said.
"I strongly advise they visit tonight," Abasi said. "Tell them to bring flowers. Their friend's family loves flowers. You could say they're addicted to them."
"Got it," Evan said. "Aunty said maybe you should go help Lake's friends look for the storm chaser. All hands on deck.”
"I'm on it," Abasi said.
He switched off the radio and started running towards the estate house as the rain bit at his face. He hoped like hell his not-so-subtle message got through to the DEA, because he suspected that after tonight, Damien would clean up shop and get rid of his drug smuggling sideline.
That's exactly what Abasi would have done in his position.