Page 49 of Double Shot
“It is, and the Narcos are probably not very happy with what happened before the house went up. A lot of them went to jail or were shot.” Roan nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Then let’s book tickets to Mexico City, make sure that the frogs know about it, and then we drive something loud and obnoxious to Oberhausen. They won’t be watching the roads. Especially not the ones running deeper into Europe and not heading to a place that we have no reason to go after.”
“Are we going to hit this guy?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know, we could. Take one out while the others are all dealing with diarrhea in Mexico,” I said. “I mean, we have to take at least their command structure out.”
“Agreed,” Roan growled. “They came after us hard, and they will come again, and again until either we’re dead, or they are.”
* * *
Roan booked our tickets,made the call while we were sitting in the hotel café sipping espresso and nibbling at small pastry things. It was inconspicuous, but we had to lay down a trail if we wanted them to follow it. We had a mid-morning spa treatment, and I had to laugh while Roan got his half-priced pedicure. Sadie was uncertain and uncomfortable at first, but either just accepted it, or realized that it was something to be enjoyed. We mentioned a few things about what we were going to do when we got back home and peppered in a few points of interest. Breadcrumbs. Bait.
After the spa, we went back to the room, packed our bags, and made ready for our plan. This was going to involve some sleight of hand. Roan had his crutch, his prosthetic stowed in one of his newly purchased carryon bags. Sadie had a muted lavender and gray blouse and slacks thing going on, and I had a very drab herringbone jacket draped over my arm. We checked into our flight, strolled through security, and then into the sky lounge, presumably to grab drinks before what should be our well-publicized, by now, flight back to the United States and theCalifornia SafeHouse,in Berkeley.
The flight started boarding, and we went to the airport bathrooms and changed. The herringbone jacket and drab outfit were replaced with a very crisp and sharp black suit. Roan’s suit had matching cuts to mine, but he said the color was Supermarine blue. Probably a WWII reference, that was certainly one of his things. When we met outside the bathrooms, Sadie’s drab mock pantsuit had been replaced with a Monaco styled dress that barely came to the middle of her thighs.
“You’ll need to be careful getting in and out of cars, Poppet.” Roan nodded to her.
“Unless you want to make sure everyone knows what color panties you’re wearing.” I gave her a wink. She blushed. I wasn’t sure if it was literally what I said, or the chance that she was going commando and onlookers would see something more than a flash of fabric. There was a good chance it was the second. I gave a laugh.
We left an hour later, following a surge of disembarking passengers who had just arrived from a packed London flight. No crutch, no one-legged man. I walked alone; Sadie walked with her arm in Roan’s. He looked like quite the lucky sugar daddy at that moment.
We passed through the exit, down into the parking garage, and the valet brought us up our rental car, a large Bentley Continental. It might have weighed over two tons, but it had a massive twelve-cylinder engine, an astonishing amount of power, and, important for our plan, a huge trunk.
“Are you both ready for this?” I asked. Sadie looked confident, but I could see the worry on Roan’s face. “This is a good plan, and we only have to play this game maybe thirty miles. Then, we’re free.”
He nodded.
I called the escorts, lined up where they were going to meet us, and that it would just be a woman in a blue dress driving the car. She complained a little, still a little sad that I wasn’t going to let her show me any new contortions she had learned. I thanked her, and told her she was still going to be paid, just riding in a car to put on a show for the locals.
I went into the trunk first, stripping down to slacks and my undershirt. Roan stumbled in, and then Sadie tucked the last of our bags in with us. It was cozy, real cozy. “If there is a problem, bang on the lid and I’ll pull over.” She sounded concerned.
“It’ll be fine, let’s go,” I said. The faster we were gone, the sooner this would be over. I wasn’t worried about myself, but for him. We knew Kaijin had tortured him, but we didn’t know what she had done, or if there would be any lingering triggers waiting to be set off. Sadie was hesitant at first with the car. It was bonkers with horsepower, but was almost the size of a moving truck in terms of weight.
She navigated through the Monaco traffic, and after a few minutes, pulled up to a curb. There was a flutter of female voices, sparkling with laughter, and it sounded like everything was going fine. The car barely shifted as they loaded in. A carload of scantily dressed young women, lots of thigh and chest showing, leaving Monaco in a Bentley. If the Escadrille was watching, they didn’t see hitmen escaping their noose, they saw arm candy going home to spend sugar daddy’s money.
Sadie must have given the keys to one of the other girls, and the new driver was more confident and assertive. Maybe she owned a car like this herself? There was no telling with their profession, you never knew if the escort was a doctor-to-be, an aspiring actress, or a race car enthusiast. One I knew had a passion for big game hunting and taxidermy and after bagging a few rhinos in DC, she would fly to Africa to go on safari.
We drove through the checkpoint, and the girls became very loud, mocking and braying, and then we were off again. We hadn’t been stopped more than thirty seconds; they must have just waved us through.
Well chalk one up to good luck.
The car ride only lasted another fifteen minutes, but the driver wasn’t doing the speed limit, either. When we pulled over and were released from the trunk, we were in Le Ponte, outside of the principality of Monaco, and aimed toward the A7, which was the first leg of our new drive. Sadie had three other women with her. Two I recognized as escorts I knew, the third must have been a friend. They all wore similar daring dresses with high hems and low cuts, all bright colors, and they dripped with expensive jewelry.
“How did we get through customs so quickly,” Roan asked.
“Like this.” The contortionist gave a laugh and popped her tits out of her top. The other two did the same. “All his blood shot right to his cock, and he had none left for his brain.” They laughed, and Sadie blushed.
Roan had turned a slightly less striking shade of tomato.
“Well done, ladies, well done,” I said. I handed them their payment. There were air kisses tossed about, and a second car pulled up with a dark-headed entirely serious woman driving it. The girls waved, got into the car with the stone-faced woman, and then they were gone.
We wasted no time leaving ourselves.
“They seemed… nice,” Roan said.
“They’re crazy,” Sadie laughed. The two of them were getting comfortable on the couch-like back seat as I pulled us away from the curb and set us off toward Oberhausen.
