Page 102 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“I’LL GET THE power lifter,” Jeff Penney said and started off toward the dry van hitched to the Peterbilt.

Boo and Virgil had driven that monstrosity from a construction site in West Hollywood all the way up to Palmdale.

But the rambling drive was the easy part.

Jeff lowered the lifter off the truck, and Virgil jumped down into the hole and handed the case containing six hundred million dollars’ worth of gemstones up to Boo.

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Virgil said.

“I won’t,” she responded. “I’m going to spend it in a lot of places.”

The jewels were her cut. Yes, the largest portion of the billion. But this had been Boo’s idea, and she’d had to suffer throughout her marriage to Randolph Schraeder. The others agreed that she deserved every penny.

She was also getting Jeff Penney’s beloved Porsche 911. Not that she’d have it long; she would take it only as far as a private airport in nearby Agua Dulce, where a chartered Gulfstream was fueled and waiting for her.

And from there, she’d be off to Europe to visit the black-market jewelry dealers she’d been flirting with online for the past couple of weeks.

“Hey,” Boo called to Jeff, “I’m going to need those keys.”

Jeff, who had just gotten the power lifter out of the truck, frowned. Then he dug into his jeans pocket, pulled out the keys, and tossed them to Boo, who caught them one-handed.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Treat her nice. Don’t go punching the snot out of her.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Boo replied.

And she would. Right up until she turned the Porsche over to a chop shop in Lancaster so that it could disappear forever.

Jeff and Virgil would handle the cash. Each had his own preferred money launderer (Jeff had a connection in Russia; Virgil used a crew working out of Macao). They would drive the four pallets down to San Pedro, where a container ship waited to take them overseas.

Where—like Jeff Penney’s beloved Porsche—they would disappear forever.