Breaking the Limits: Rafe & Nicole Book 2 (21 page)

‘I know who can,’ Rafe drawled. ‘One phone call to Mireille and you’re on the next flight home.’

‘Low fucking blow,’ Henny grumbled.

‘Yeah, well, I like your food. So stay alive.’ Rafe shot a glance at Webster who was blowing him an air kiss, his phone to his ear. ‘Looks like we have clearance from our man in Dubai,’ he murmured, turning his gaze on his lounging friends. ‘Now, who wants to recruit and vet the women we need to make this party a success?’

‘Wasn’t that always your job?’ Ganz said from somewhere in outer space, his eyes slits behind a curtain of black hair.

‘Not any more,’ Henny jibed, slamming Rafe for his comment about Mireille. ‘He’s pussy-whipped now.’

‘And damned happy to be pussy-whipped,’ Rafe said, cheerful as hell. ‘So who’s going to line up the women?’ His eyes widened briefly at the hand that was suddenly raised. ‘Since when?’

Gina grinned. ‘Maybe I’m a switch hitter.’

‘All due respect,’ Rafe said softly. ‘You’re not.’

‘What makes you think you know everything about me?’

‘Sorry, my mistake.’ Although he knew pretty much everything there was to know about Gina after all their no-holds-barred fucking. ‘I’ll get a list of agencies from Dao,’ he said. ‘Any preferences on nationality?’

Chapter 24

An hour later, Ganz had tapped Zou’s new phone and between the satellite surveillance and cell monitoring, Zou was being tracked to a high-tech inch. Alexei and his colleague, Dr Oren, arrived soon after, having come in on a transport plane with a fully equipped operating room and medical staff. Dao had arranged for the medical staff to stay at one of her apartments near the small museum that would serve as their party venue.

The museum had the virtue of being semi-isolated within the urban jungle of Bangkok. Also, everyone had agreed that an embassy might give rise in Zou to memories of untrustworthy political alliances. With bribery a cardinal rule of business in Bangkok, he’d know that his whereabouts would fetch a good price from his enemies.

Two days later, as Zou’s journey came to an end at a warehouse near the Noi Canal, the party plans were complete, the banker from Dubai had been given his need-to-know instructions, and Dao’s spies had reported back. Zou’s troops were bivouaced at the warehouse; Zou had taken up residence in a luxury apartment owned by a wealthy Chinese casino owner. The man was not only a relative, but Zou was one of his investors. And regardless that casinos were illegal in Thailand, the pay-to-play policy of the police department allowed hundreds of gambling establishments in Bangkok alone to thrive.

Shortly after he’d settled in, Zou took the elevator downstairs to a private casino, code for: only those who could afford it were admitted. Before long, he was joined at the roulette table by a banker from Dubai who started having a run of good luck. They exchanged pleasantries between spins of the wheel: weather, horse racing, the banker’s heavy schedule of client meetings, the number of beautiful women accompanying him tonight – mentioned with a wink and a smile.

A brief twenty minutes later, the banker finished his drink. ‘Won enough for tonight,’ he said, handing his glass off without looking. ‘Now for some fun.’ Getting to his feet, he took a business card from his jacket pocket, handed it to Zou, told him if he was ever interested in banking in Dubai to give him a call. Waving over the five women who’d accompanied him to the club, he’d turned back to Zou and said, almost as an afterthought, ‘Care to have dinner with us?’ One thing led to another, he reported to Carlos the next morning; everyone had a good time. Zou had set up an account at his bank in Dubai and it was a go on Zou’s party invitation.

The following evening, dressed in jeans, T-shirts, Kevlar vests, wearing boots for running and armed, Rafe stood beside Gina, looking through a two-way mirror that had – for a substantial sum – been installed in the foyer of the museum that afternoon. The elaborate gilded frame sparkled under the chandelier lights, the mirror shimmered in the lucent glow while the two people behind the glass watched a parade of beautifully dressed and coiffed women walking in through the open entrance doors.

‘Kudos, babe,’ Rafe said, smiling. ‘You did good. Every single lady is dazzling.’

‘And classy,’ Gina noted. ‘That’s where a woman’s eye comes in. Men always zero in on big boobs.’

Rafe shot a sideways glance downward at her Kevlar-covered breasts. ‘Like yours.’

‘I rest my case,’ she said, drily.

He grinned. ‘Men are such animals.’

She gave him a disgruntled look. ‘Are we done with this?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Rafe said, still grinning. ‘You were saying.’

‘I was
saying
I wanted the whole package. Stylish, not just a sex bomb.’

‘You nailed it then –
very
nice packages.’

But his voice was casual, Gina noted. He could have been talking about a suit or a car. This wasn’t the Rafe who’d always looked at a woman with fucking on his mind.

‘Once Zou arrives,’ Rafe said, interrupting her musing, ‘Saxe will escort him into the roulette room. Shouldn’t be a problem. Money before pleasure for Zou. Then the ladies will be moved to the atrium so they’re out of the firing line – although ostensibly they’ll be escorted there to enjoy the music until Zou’s finished gambling. Zou sits down at the roulette table, is offered a drink, we wait while it’s made and once he has the glass in his hand, it’s game on. Did I leave anything out?’

She gave him a sideways glance. ‘You left out the part about him coming in here with an armed escort.’

He flipped her a look. ‘I told you our sniper from Shanghai showed up this afternoon, right?’

‘Yeah, a man with a mission. Now we have two loose cannons. Ganz and whatshisname.’

‘Xu Wei. And I don’t blame either one of them. A family that matters – it’s no small thing,’ he said, his voice going soft for a second. Then he gave a little snort, letting it go and grinned. ‘So – two loose cannons. You and I have our work cut out for us.’

‘Webster’s on it too. Ganz’s escalating drug use is making him nervous. And he’s known Ganz longer than any of us.’

‘His father’s assassination coked him out even more. Once Zou’s gone, we’ll get him into rehab. He’s fucking brilliant and a good friend so we gotta see that he stays alive,’ Rafe said, matter of factly.

She looked up, smiled faintly. ‘You’re always steady as a rock.’

He laughed. ‘Hell, no. Hangin’ on by my fingernails, babe.’

‘Liar.’

His smile faded. ‘You learn to close it down, that’s all. Or never even open it up. Shut all the doors. Lock ’em up tight. That’s been my life.’

She touched his arm lightly. ‘Past tense. You hear that?’

It took him a moment to understand and another moment to tamp down the panic. ‘Problem is that it makes you vulnerable.’ He drew in a quick breath. ‘Makes you want to live, not take chances, think too much when you shouldn’t. When you should be operating on instinct alone.’

She couldn’t argue. He was right. ‘Our plan is good,’ she said instead. ‘We stick to it, everyone comes out alive.’

If only it had turned out that way.

First, Zou walked in with a woman on his arm. Not just any woman. The runner up to Miss Thailand, the daughter of the police commissioner, an Oxford-trained barrister and well known in all capacities. She couldn’t be shunted off to the atrium like the ladies for rent.

Second, Xu Wei, who was out in the garden up in a tree, his back against the trunk, adjusted Zou’s head in his scope crosshairs, got the bead and started squeezing the trigger before Zou even stepped through the doorway into the gaming room. If Zou hadn’t suddenly bent his head to listen to something his female companion was saying, the 180 grain, full-metal jacket, 45 round would have painted the floor with his blood and brains.

Spinning around, Zou ran, dragging his terror-stricken companion with him.

The Dubai banker hit the floor and joined Dao’s croupier under the roulette table. Xu Wei took out two of Zou’s bodyguards, then dropped to the ground and sprinted for the front of the building.

Surrounded by a moving phalanx of bodyguards, Zou raced for the entrance and his waiting car, hauling the screaming woman along with a steely grip on her arm.

Ganz suddenly came out of the shadowed night like some apparition, took up a rigid firing position at the top of the entrance stairs, his weapon aimed straight through the open doors at Zou’s sprinting figure.

‘Bloody hell,’ Rafe muttered and bolted from the room behind the two-way mirror, Gina on his heels, both firing at Zou and his bodyguards as they ran toward Ganz.

Ganz was standing still as a statue in the doorway, bathed in light from the chandeliers, framed by the pitch-blackness of night. The perfect target.

In two seconds Rafe had almost reached him when Zou put a gun to the lady’s head and shouted in English, then in Mandarin, ‘Move out of the way or she dies.’

Everything came to a stop as if someone had hit pause on a remote.

‘Cool it,’ Rafe hissed, hoping like hell Ganz could still hear. Gina eased back slightly and stumbled against Webster who’d come out of nowhere. Pulling her close, he murmured, ‘Don’t do anything stupid. Let him go.’

But as Zou walked past a growing group of silent, hindered adversaries, he glared at Ganz. ‘Take him,’ he ordered one of his bodyguards. ‘He’s mine.’

Rafe stepped forward. ‘Take me instead. He’s so strung out, he’s already dying.’
He didn’t say Ganz won’t even know you’re killing him, but that’s what he meant.
Ganz’s pupils were completely dilated, tremors racked his body, sweat poured down his face. If he didn’t get help soon, paralysis would set in and he’d stop breathing. But there was still time. ‘I’m worth a hefty ransom,’ Rafe said. ‘Ganz isn’t worth a centime. And I hear you’ve been losing money in Switzerland and off shore,’ Rafe drawled. ‘I can make up that deficit.’

‘Smart-ass pretty boy, aren’t you?’

‘Think of it as a business deal.’ Rafe took another step forward as though the decision had already been made. Knowing it had. Money was always Zou’s bottom line.

‘Fine.’ Zou nodded, but he didn’t move the gun barrel from the lady’s head. ‘Drop your weapon. Get in the car.’ He turned and spoke to one of his bodyguards.

‘Call Gora,’ Rafe murmured, handing his Glock 19 to Webster. ‘Tell him not to fuck around. I have a wedding to go to.’

But a few moments later, just as Rafe stepped into the car, he heard a gunshot, then Ganz’s scream.
Two-faced motherfucker.
He hoped Alexei was close by.

Alexei was, standing beside Xu Wei, holding his rifle arm down until the cars drove away. Then he raced up the stairs to where Ganz lay, scanned him for a head shot and relaxed marginally; the entry wound was in his chest. Dropping to his knees, he ripped away Ganz’s shirt. The vest had slowed the bullet, but the fifty-calibre round had gone through twenty-seven layers of Kevlar and, partially deformed, was lodged low in his right side. He was bleeding fast.

As Alexei gave orders for Ganz to be carried next door, the others on the stairs watched the two cars disappear and waited for instructions.

‘That sniper has to be sent home before he fucks up something else,’ Gina said under her breath.

‘It was too personal for him,’ Webster murmured. ‘It’s not for us.’

Her head whipped around. ‘It is now.’

‘Gotcha.’ He lifted his chin. ‘Carlos is on it. He’ll tell us what he needs.’

Chapter 25

When Carlos called, Gora and Camelia were at their villa in Trieste having a drink before dinner at a table poolside. Titus was swimming.

After listening for a few seconds, Gora said, ‘Wait’, gave Camelia a rueful smile and get to his feet. ‘Sorry, darling, business. It won’t take long.’

He inhaled a few deep breaths as he strode across the terrace to the villa, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t felt such cold-blooded terror since his first hit as an eighteen year old. Shoving open the terrace door, he stepped inside the cool quiet of his study, shut the door and prayed for the first time in his life. Then he shook off his moment of doubt and said, brusquely, ‘Okay, I’m alone now. Tell me everything you know about this motherfucking prick who took my son.’

After his call with Carlos was over, Gora phoned some men he’d known since his youth, made arrangements with them to fly to Bangkok, gave orders to have a bag packed, then glanced at the clock and hesitated. He knew Dominic was in San Francisco with his extended family. Did he want a call at five in the morning? Or, more to the point, was Rafe’s fiancée significant enough to be given notice of the disastrous events? He sighed. Real engagement or not, Rafe cared about her. Picking up his phone, Gora punched a number.

‘It’s early,’ he said in Italian, their common language years ago in Rome. ‘I apologize.’

‘It’s fine,’ Dominic replied in fluent Italian. ‘No one’s sleeping much. Let me go out in the hall.’

Gora waited while Dominic spoke quietly to someone.

‘We’re all still at the hospital, although things are much better,’ Dominic said, walking out into the hall. ‘What’s going on?’ He knew Gora wasn’t calling to chat.

‘A serious fuck-up. It’s not your problem, but I thought I should at least tell you since your niece and Rafe are . . . ’ Gora’s voice trailed off.

‘She showed me the engagement ring,’ Dominic said, understanding Gora’s bias; he shared it in reverse. ‘But if you’re calling
me
about a serious fuck-up, it must be about Rafe. Is he alive?’ Dominic wasn’t naïve; Rafe wasn’t in Bangkok on holiday.

‘I think so. Zou has him. Rafe offered himself as ransom in place of Ganz.’ Gora went on to tell Dominic what he knew. ‘I’m flying to Bangkok in a few minutes. It’s probably not wise to say anything to Nicole until we know more, but that’s your call. I’m not mentioning it to Camelia.’

‘Until you have to.’

‘No, until Rafe comes home,’ Gora said firmly. ‘Alive.’

‘Of course. Can I help?’ Regardless of his reservations, the way Nicole had beamed with love when she looked at Rafe and said,
We’re engaged
, was hard to forget.

‘I’ll take care of it myself.’ Gora’s voice was cold as ice.

Dominic was reminded of the Gora he’d first met years ago, how he’d thought he could buy him off, how he’d been wrong. How he’d met a man as ruthless as himself. ‘If you change your mind, don’t hesitate to call. Isabelle’s on the mend. I can get away if necessary.’

‘No, Rafe’s my son. Zou is mine to kill. It’s the way in my world.’

‘I understand.’ Dominic knew he’d fight to his last breath if Kate or his children were in danger. ‘Look, Max is in Hong Kong. I’ll have him fly in. He’s knows Thailand better than either one of us.’

‘I’m going after Rafe as soon as I land. Ransom or not, Zou can’t be trusted.’

‘Max will be waiting at the airport,’ Dominic said. ‘Tell him what you need, he’ll get it for you.’

After his talk with Dominic, Gora sat at his desk for a moment, wondering what to say to Camelia, how to conceal his blinding fear. In his line of work, the jobs had always been impersonal. A matter of logistics: get in, do the hit, get out. This time it was so deeply personal he ran the risk of not functioning at his best.

He couldn’t afford that weakness.

He couldn’t afford one mistake.

In the end, the story he chose for Camelia was close to the truth at least in terms of destination. ‘That was a supplier of teak from Bangkok,’ he said when he walked back out to the pool. ‘He’d promised me first pick of his newest shipment for the sailboat. But it’s on a first come, first serve basis and he has other buyers so I’m going to have to leave immediately. If it wasn’t for the political turmoil over there, I’d ask you to come along.’

‘Luca can’t handle it?’

‘I’m too fussy.’ Gora smiled. ‘He might pick the wrong timbers.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. I’ll bring back some silks for the stateroom furniture. Tell me what colours. Better yet, I’ll bring back a collection of colors. You can decide later.’

Camelia tipped her head, looked at him intently for a moment, then said, ‘At least say goodbye to Titus before you go.’

His pulse rate subsided and he smiled. ‘I’ll see what he wants for a gift.’

‘You spoil him,’ she said softly.

‘I know. I’m making up for all the years I missed Rafe growing up.’

She laughed. ‘You still watch over Rafail even though he’s grown.’

Not well enough.
‘He’s our son. I’m allowed.’

She nodded. ‘You won’t be gone long?’

‘No.’ Bending, he kissed her softly. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

*

Thirteen hours later, Gora came down the steps of his private jet onto the tarmac at Suvarnabhumi airport in Bangkok. Four of his old colleagues, leaders of their own organizations now, were with him. They, in turn, were accompanied by several large heavy-set men in para-military gear. Max was there with Carlos. They had SUVs waiting.

‘Where is Rafe now?’ Gora asked without preliminaries. He spoke in Italian, a language his colleagues understood.

‘At the compound up north,’ Carlos replied. ‘Zou choppered in with Rafe and a dozen others. We have someone from the area in the kitchen, but Dao’s other two spies are with Zou’s troops driving up from Bangkok.’

‘The prick knows Rafe is worth a lot of money alive.’

It was a question, no matter the declarative delivery. ‘I’m sure Rafe has made that clear,’ Carlos said.

‘If I pay the motherfucker, will he keep his word? Will Rafe be safe?’

‘Good question.’

Gora shot Carlos a hard look. ‘That’s a no.’

‘He had Ganz shot after Rafe got into his car.’

‘Okay, we’re not going to screw around on this. The longer he has Rafe, the more likely he’ll hurt him.’

‘Agreed.’ Lying to Gora was impractical.

‘We go in now. Before the rest of his troops reach the compound. You chartered the helicopters?’

‘Yes, ten as requested. Max got us military issue. New models.’

Gora nodded at Max. ‘Thanks for the help. It’s been a while.’ They’d met once, in Rome after Titus had been born. Max had picked up the last divorce papers dissolving Dominic’s marriage to Bianca.

‘Glad I could help,’ Max said, his Italian coloured with the soft intonations of an upper-class Brit. ‘Dominic knew I was posted here years ago. The military doesn’t change much.’ Max had worked for MI6 before he became ADC to Dominic; he still looked the part. Tall, buff, blond buzz cut, shuttered gaze, his trademark desert boots. ‘Speaking of military, Zou’s rival, Colonel Chen, just arrived in town. He wants Zou dead more than you. I guarantee he’d be interested in a joint operation.’

Gora shook his head. ‘I don’t work with people I don’t know.’ Then he stepped back and made a quick round of introductions, his friends acknowledging Max and Carlos with nods and the requisite Italian courtesies. In contrast to Gora’s tall, thin frame, his shorter colleagues had the mid-life beginnings of a paunch. Although no one would mistake that bit of flab as testament to any kind of softness. Even in their well-tailored suits, the subtle bulk of shoulder holsters was unmistakable. ‘Everyone knows everyone now?’ Gora waited a fraction of a second. ‘Back to business then. I brought eight pilots with me, you said you fly, Carlos and . . . ’

‘Sasha, Basil’s cousin.’

‘Each chopper carries twenty?’

‘Some more,’ Max answered. ‘Those require co-pilots, so I could round up some more fliers if you like or we could improvise. You don’t necessarily need a co-pilot. I can take one of the seats.’

‘Fine. I don’t like outsiders. We leave from here?’

Carlos nodded. ‘The choppers came in a few hours ago from the air base north of the city. We’ll drive to where they’re parked.’

Max rode shotgun in one SUV, Gora and Carlos in the back, the driver Dao’s man.

‘There’s something else,’ Carlos said as they drove away from Gora’s jet. ‘I wanted to tell you in private.’

Gora’s head swivelled to Carlos, his gaze suddenly chill. ‘They’ve hurt him. How badly?’

‘We don’t know. Rafe was in a metal box when they unloaded him from the chopper. The man Dao has in the kitchen saw the box unloaded but hasn’t been able to get closer. He saw it carried into one of the outbuildings he doesn’t have access to. He’ll try, of course.’

‘What kind of box?’ Gora said, stiffly.

‘One too small for comfort.’