Page 32

Chapter

Thirty-Two

VOODOO

T he warm breeze carried the teasing scents of the Mediterranean: salt, sand, and sun. The brightness reflected off the white buildings around us and seemed to add an intense glare to everything, so I kept my sunglasses in place as I strolled the neighborhood.

There were plenty of people, from older ladies to dog walkers to families out walking their pets, from little powder poof purse puppies to the proud, if pampered, standard poodles and everything in between. We’d tracked Gallo all day. He spent most of the day secure behind the walls of his villa.

The billionaire had a tight net of security with a half-dozen guards on the property. Every single one moved like they were military or former military. His driver was a part of the security force.

He also had easily twice as many women frolicking on the estate as well. I doubted there was a single one over the age of twenty playing in and around his pool. The idea this schmuck wanted Grace to be another plaything for his amusement grated more and more as the day passed.

Each hour served as another reminder that this man actually kept upping his offer into seven figures to get Grace to come to him. Was he paying for all those girls in his pool? And was he paying them or someone else?

I didn’t like judging anyone’s circumstances, but those kids deserved a lot better than that dick.

A hell of a lot better.

“Housekeeper is on the move,” Lunchbox said over comms from where he was seated at a cafe just down the road from the market. He’d followed her when she left the villa.

“Cars are arriving,” Alphabet said. “I have four, looks like two for security, a decoy, and a vehicle for the target.”

That was pretty standard.

“Some of the girls are also leaving,” Alphabet continued. “I’ve got four, no five, heading out the side gate on foot. They’ve got a couple of the security guards going along with them.”

“Let them go,” Bones ordered. “If he has cars coming, he may be preparing to depart.”

That was my thinking. Particularly after we tracked the crew preparing his yacht. “Better to take him from outside the secure perimeter.”

“Agreed,” Alphabet said. “Gracie says that Gallo generally travels with at least one bodyguard in his vehicle with him—regardless of what company is also with him.” That tracked with what we’d already learned. I checked my watch.

“Give him another hour, keep an eye on those vehicles.” With that, I continued my slow stroll down the street as the vehicles in question drove right past me.

One hour turned into two and they seemed to drag as we maintained our positions. The vehicles had arrived on property. Security presented a very visible and armed presence. More of his girls left via a limo, so that whittled down more of the civilians around him.

At sundown, activity in the compound increased. Luggage was carried from the house down to the vehicles. That fit with what we knew. I checked my watch again.

Once he was out in the open, we would be free to move.

“Thirty minutes.” With two words, Bones had us moving. “Get in position. Alphabet, lock on to his car. I want our target painted before they leave the compound.”

“Done,” Alphabet said in acknowledgment and our conversational chatter ended. As operations went, this one was more of a walk in the park than a challenge. I took the route back toward town.

Music drifted on the air from the clubs and restaurants. A number of the cafes and eateries had their outdoor seating open. Plenty were packed with customers and the scents of food, wine, cologne, and sweat perfumed the air before the breezes swept them away.

At the twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds, I was at the cross street where they would turn to head down to the port.

“Marked,” Alphabet said. “They are on the move.”

I’d traded out my sunglasses for an entirely different pair of glasses calibrated to let me see electronic tagging. They weren’t perfect, and had a short range. But all I needed them for was to see which vehicle I wanted.

Traffic increased slowly, but steadily. Two beeps in my ear told me the little caravan we were waiting for closed in on my position. I pulled out the bag of 1 inch triangle spikes. Timing my stumble for being near the curve of the traffic circle heading to the port, I released twenty-five or so to scatter over the road just as the first security car arrived.

More than half were picked up by its tires and the second car snared almost the rest. They weren’t even a quarter of a mile down before the first car’s tires began to blow.

Delayed reaction was the best. I slowed down the painted target by hitting the crossing button and jogging right into the street. The third car, wearing the painted target, hit their brakes hard.

Oops.

Still grinning, I continued east. “Cleaned out some of the debris. Still need to sack up the last one.”

“I got you,” Lunchbox practically hummed. “Pick you up in five.”

“Good, I’d kill for a beer.”

“Great,” Lunchbox muttered. “Now I will too.”

Chuckling, I canted my head at the sound of squealing tires followed by a blaring horn, then crunches of metal before tires spun out again.

“Oops,” Alphabet said. “They missed their turn.”

“Well,” Lunchbox drawled. “Tag, I’m it.”

With that, I went from jog to loping run. I’d just made it to the rendezvous when the painted SUV pulled up. Lunchbox winked at me from the driver’s seat as I yanked open the rear passenger door, and slid inside with the pressure injector in my palm.

The bodyguard in the back lunged at me. Very nice of him to reach out. I broke the wrist of the hand with the gun and hit him in the side of the neck with the tranq even as I slid into the car.

The privacy partition was closed. Maurizio Gallo was all the way on the far side of the car trying to open the other door. Not that it was working for him. I knocked on the partition as I closed the door.

“What the hell do you want?” The man asked in a heavy accent, his eyes were wild and showing a great deal of white as they wheeled around searching for his escape.

“An ice cold beer, some good tunes, and maybe a meal with a beautiful woman. You?” I stripped down the gun to its component parts before I emptied the bullets from the magazine. Pretty sure this was an illegal weapon here in France, but then I wasn’t going to judge.

“You’re insane,” Gallo muttered, sweat beading his spray-tanned face. It definitely made him look like an overripe melon on the way to going bad.

“Nope, I’m just Voodoo.” I waited for the vehicle to slow to a stop again and opened the rear passenger door to shove the unconscious guard out. The rear driver’s side door opened, and I swore that Gallo squealed as Bones slid in.

“Who are you?” The overweight man let out a vicious gasp as he tried to retreat. But the only place he had to go brought him straight to me and he ended up trapped in the middle. Bones and I closed the doors at the same moment, then Bones knocked on the partition.

“Any lingering concerns?” Bones directed his attention toward me and ignored the man.

“Not at the moment.” I was definitely hungry. The wandering hadn’t leant itself to eating much and I didn’t really like snacking on a mission.

Bones flicked a look to Gallo, who raked a hand through his hair and shifted his hairpiece subtly. The sweat rolling off him stank up the car, particularly because it made for a vile combo with his cologne and spray-tan product.

I’d smelled better off men who’d been sweating in a hole in the desert for the better part of a week. Did the man drown himself in product?

“You have no idea who I am,” Gallo said. “Or the mistakes you have made.”

I spared him a look, then glanced at the window. Lunchbox was taking us a roundabout way out of town. This vehicle was not going anywhere near our villa. It took us twenty minutes to reach the swap spot.

“Mr. Gallo, we can do this one of two ways. You can get out of this vehicle and get into the other one without complaint or incident,” Bones informed him in a cool, impersonal voice as we stopped.

“Or what?” Gallo seemed to find some courage even if spittle flew from his lips as he tried to glare at Bones. I could have told the overstuffed piece of shift to give it up, but this was a little more entertaining.

“Or it will not end well for you.” That was putting it succinctly. “Your choice?”

The silence extended, populated only by the man’s harsh breathing. A knock on the roof told me Lunchbox was ready.

“Fuck you,” Gallo snarled, actually snarled, and attempted to sound more like a wolf than the pampered pet he was.

Right.

Without rolling my eyes, I opened my side and slid out, then closed the door behind me. Lunchbox eyed me briefly, eyebrows raised.

“He chose poorly.”

A grin flashed over Lunchbox’s face. The yelp from inside was a little rewarding, but only a little. Then Bones stepped out on the far side.

“He’s ready,” he said but I was already opening my side and reaching in to drag the unconscious man out. There were three mangled fingers on the guy’s right hand.

Yeah. That had to hurt.

Lunchbox grabbed Gallo’s other arm as we hoisted him out, then we dragged him over to our vehicle and loaded him into the back. Once he was secured and covered, Lunchbox spent another minute on the other car before he joined us and we were leaving Gallo’s vehicle behind.

Five minutes after we left, it would burst into flames and that would take care of any trace evidence. The drive back to the villa took a little longer as we followed the least monitored route and let Alphabet blank out our progress.

By the time his people caught up to where we left the car, we would be secure.

“Incoming,” Bones said over the comms.

“Already got you,” Alphabet said. “Gracie put on the coffee.”

Gracie.

I rubbed at my jaw then gave myself a careful sniff. Definitely needed a shower before we went to bed tonight. It took a little over an hour after we left Gallo’s vehicle to drive through the gates at the villa. We pulled right up into the portico and parked, then turned off all the lights so we could unload.

Alphabet and Goblin met us at the door.

“Secure?” Lunchbox asked. I wasn’t the only one making sure Gracie didn’t have to see us carry in the sack of shit.

“She’s in the kitchen. I asked her to let us put him in the wine cellar before she comes out.”

Bones grunted, but if he didn’t care for Alphabet’s choice, he didn’t say anything else. The man seemed even heavier after the short ride, or maybe it was just the dead weight.

We hauled him downstairs where a chair, a makeshift cell, and some tools already waited for us. It didn’t take long to strip the man out of his clothes or secure him in place. The stench of him was even worse out of his sweat-soaked clothing than it had been before.

Once Lunchbox had his ankles and wrists lashed, I went for the banana bag and IV kits. I got the port in so he was ready for when it was necessary. The chair was set up on a clear plastic liner. Easier for cleanup.

By the time he started showing signs of waking up, we were done. I checked my watch again. “Start tonight or wait for morning?”

We could do it either way. Sometimes, spending a night alone in the dark, cold, unable to move, and unsure of who or what was listening to you could soften someone up a lot faster than heaping abuse on them.

Course, if it didn’t work, abuse was next.

“Leave him,” Bones said. “Showers. Food. Rest. Give him until dawn.”

Worked for me.

Upstairs, the scent of sex was unmistakable even after being smothered in Gallo’s funk. Grace stood in the archway separating the dining room from the living area and she studied us as we came up.

Alphabet stood slightly in front of her with Goblin parked between them. The dog was relaxed, but Alphabet seemed a little warier.

Then again, she looked worried as well. Right.

They’d had sex.

“Hungry?” Lunchbox asked, breaking the impasse. Behind me, I could have sworn Bones cursed, but I ignored him.

“I’m gonna shower,” I said taking the handoff easily and flashed a grin at Grace and Alphabet. “Give me fifteen and I’ll happily eat and we can debrief.”

“You guys are all okay?” Grace pushed forward a couple of steps.

“All good, Gracie,” Lunchbox said. “Be back in five.” Then he was jogging up to his room.

“Not a scratch,” I told Grace. “Gallo is secure. You good?”

Her cheeks seemed to pinken. Was that a blush? That could have been the light, but the faint smirk on Alphabet’s face said otherwise. It was utterly charming on her.

“I’m fine,” she said. “We had a good day.”

“Good. Be right back.” I winked and yep, there was relief flickering over her face. Right, we needed to tackle that. If the guys wanted her, I had no problem with that, as long as she wanted it too.

Shower. Eat. Debrief. Put Grace’s mind at ease. Sleep.

Tomorrow, we would crack Gallo like an egg and find out what the fuck he had to do with all of this.

Excellent plan.