34. Typhon

34

TYPHON

D ays later, when I heard Penelope Ramsey was on a flight from London to Florence, where Brand was meeting her at the airport, I got a bad feeling in my gut. The kind I'd learned long ago not to ignore.

I arranged a crew and had them file an emergency flight plan. If everything went the way I wanted it to, I'd be on the ground forty-five minutes before the other aircraft landed.

"Hey, boss?" I heard Tank call out.

"In here."

"Maximo de Rossi has been spotted in Florence."

"Bloody fucking hell," I spat. "Arm up and move out," I ordered. "Get backup in place."

"Yes, sir," both Tank and Blackjack responded.

"And get in touch with Ripa. Tell him to get the fuck out of that airport."

My plane was in the air when Benito Carpinelli received a message on the secure server. Even before I read it, my blood ran cold. When I saw who the contract hit was on, it turned to ice— Maximo de Rossi.

"Angel, push this plane as hard as you can," I said through the comms.

"Roger that, sir."

"Anything on Ripa?"

"Negative," reported Blackjack.

"Boss?" said Tank. "What are we looking at?"

Before I could answer, Blackjack jumped out of his seat. "I've got something." He showed me the footage on his screen. "That's the gate where Penelope Ramsey's plane is scheduled to dock."

Maximo de Rossi reappeared, pacing and surveying the area.

"This will be one I won't mind killing," I muttered.

Tank's eyes met mine.

"To answer your question, I think Ripa is walking into a trap."

"Keeps going straight to voicemail. Messages aren't delivering."

"They've scrambled his mobile," I said under my breath, keeping my eyes on Maximo. His eyes darted about, and his shoulders were hunched, almost as if he was sure he was being watched.

I raised my hand, pointed a finger at the screen, and lowered my thumb. "You're a dead man, you motherfucking sonuvabitch ."

I raced to the front of the aircraft the minute we came to a stop, then down the airstairs as soon as they were lowered. Two SUVs waited on the tarmac. I got in one, and Tank and Blackjack got in the other.

We still hadn't picked up Ripa on the airport footage nor had we been able to reach him. I was absolutely certain Maximo had arranged for someone to jam his signal. Our calls and messages wouldn't even register on Ripa's mobile if that was the case.

"We've got him," said Blackjack.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Maximo just met him at security."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I shouted.

Neither Tank nor Blackjack had the credentials to get through the checkpoint. Even Angel wouldn't be able to since she'd come on the private, versus public, section of the airfield. And if I tried, I might as well put a bullseye on my back.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Ripa and de Rossi are talking, but I'm unable to pick anything up. The plane is pulling up to the gate," Blackjack reported.

"What's Maximo doing?" I asked.

"Still with Ripa."

"Continue attempting contact."

"Every thirty seconds, boss."

Several minutes passed without an update. Finally, Blackjack reported passengers were exiting the plane.

"No sign of Ramsey, sir."

My eyes opened wide, and I thought about banging my head on the steering wheel. Maximo wasn't there for Brand; he was there for Penelope.

My mobile rang with a call from Brand.

"Someone's got Penelope," he said before I had the chance to speak. "She wasn't on her flight. I received a text, a few minutes ago, from whoever has her. It said he knows who I am and that I have to follow his instructions—and this is a direct quote—‘if I ever want to see my Butterfly again.'"

"Where are you?"

"At the airport in Florence," said Brand.

"I know that. Where exactly?"

"Terminal B, and what the hell, Typhon? I just told you someone abducted Penelope."

" I heard you. Where's Maximo?" I shouted.

"Probably looking for me. How did you even know he was here?"

"I just did. Listen, it's imperative you get out of the airport now . Find the nearest lift and take it all the way to the lowest level. Go to door twenty-seven. I'll be there, waiting."

"You're here?"

"If you aren't on your way to a lift, you're wasting time."

I was already in position when Brand ran from the lift to the SUV.

"Get in!" I shouted.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Let me get out of here, then I'll explain." I handed him a comms set. "Tank? Blackjack? Over?"

"Right behind you, boss," Blackjack responded.

"Good. Follow me into the next parking structure."

We transferred vehicles. Tank was behind the wheel of the one Ripa and I had climbed into while Blackjack jumped in the one I'd been driving.

"Start. Fucking. Talking," Ripa seethed.

"A hit has been put out on Maximo de Rossi."

"By who?"

"The Sicilians. I received the order on my way. Shortly before you called, I received an all-call alert from Nemesis, saying Penelope Ramsey was missing."

"You think Pen's disappearance has something to do with the hit on Maximo?" Brand asked.

"I'm certain of it."

"Why?"

"Because he believes you have the power to either get it called off or him out of the country and under SIS protection," I responded.

"Are you saying he already knows there's a contract out on him?"

"Affirmative."

Ripa had his head in his hands. "Why would he take Pen to get to me? I was within reach. I was literally standing right next to him."

"They already had her. I've no doubt his plan was to get you to ask him for help, then once you were out of the airport, make his demands."

"This doesn't make sense."

"A marked man usually doesn't. And, like the message said, he knows who you are, which means he knows the real reason you're in Italy."

When Brand asked what we were going to do, the answer was easy. I was about to call in a favor that just might result in my signing my own death warrant.

"We're going to Castello Vicchiomaggio, and when we get there, you're going to hand the Sicilians to the don and he's going to help us find Penelope."

The gates of Scaglione's compound were wide open when we arrived, but the drive was lined with his soldiers brandishing automatic weapons. I pulled through and parked when I reached the villa's entrance. As was standard procedure, we were escorted inside by four of the don's men, all of whom were armed.

"Benito! Welcome, my friend," Scaglione said when we exited the lift. His expression wasn't as warm when he greeted Brand.

The don motioned for us to be seated.

"Benito tells me you need my help. I find I'm somewhat surprised, given I understand you went back to work for another syndicate," said Valerio.

"I'm not here on behalf of the Sicilians," Brand responded.

When he explained he was here to make a deal, Scaglione sat back in his chair.

"What do I get in return?"

"A means to put the Sicilian Syndicate out of business."

"Go ahead."

I sat back and listened, impressed when Brand insisted that first, the don give his word he'd help him find Penelope.

Valerio put his hand on his heart. "You have it."

"I also need your word that, once I've given you what you need to take them down, you will not only help with what I've already asked of you, but you will allow me to leave Italy with your assurance that no one from your organization—yourself as well—will come after me or my family, or ever attempt to make contact with me again."

"Again, you have my word." Scaglione motioned to one of the men standing guard. He returned a few moments later and set a folded piece of paper on the table in front of his boss. He opened it, then slid it across the table.

"You will find Maximo here."

"You drive," I told Brand when we approached the waiting SUV.

"Who did you contact?" he asked when I hit send on the message I'd just written.

I scrubbed my face. "The bloody cavalry. As hard as it is for me to admit, Nemesis and her crew are the best there is."

Brand raised a brow.

"You tell her I said so, and I'll put a bullet in your brain."

"Are you saying they're better than Unit 23?"

"No, but we kill first and ask questions later."

When we arrived in Chianti forty minutes later, Nemesis and her crew were waiting.

"As you can see, the Doppler picked up several hotspots. This is where we believe Penelope is being held."

"What led you to that conclusion?" I asked.

"It's the only area where it appears people come and go. The rest don't move, so they're most likely guards. We've broken into teams." The screen changed, and color overlays appeared on the schematic. She used the trackpad to indicate which Tank, Blackjack, Brand, and I would be on.

"Let's move out," I said to them.

When we arrived, we saw Penelope was being held in the exact location Nemesis had predicted.

"Take one more step, and she dies," said that sonuvabitch Maximo de Rossi sitting at the far end of a long table, his gun aimed directly at the woman.

"Put down the gun, Maximo, and let her go. This is over," said Brand.

"If you have not brought my family to me, her death is inevitable."

"Hurt her or me, and your uncle and his grandson will be dead within seconds."

"Fuck," I groaned when I felt a bullet graze my arm. Maximo had pulled the trigger, but I got off my rounds first, as did Brand, Tank, and Blackjack. The bastard's dead body was riddled with bullets.

"Typhon's hit!" Nemesis shouted. Leave it to her to make far more of it than it actually was. It wasn't the first time I'd been shot, and it sure as fuck wouldn't be the last.

"It's a flesh wound, but I need to stop the bleeding," Said one of the agents as she attempted to put pressure to stop the flow of blood while I watched Blackjack try to get the handcuffs off Penelope. I jerked away from her.

"Move!" I shouted, motioning with my good arm for everyone to step away from where Pen's arms were bound to the chair.

"Typhon! I need to treat you! What are you doing?" the woman hollered at me.

"You can do it after I get her free," I shouted back. "Hold still," I said to Penelope. "Do not move even a millimeter. Brand, hold her arms as tightly as you can. Seshat, get over here. Cover her ears and hold her head still."

I aimed at the chain of the cuffs. As long as Brand was able to keep her still, the bullet would either lodge in the chair or ricochet in the opposite direction, straight into a wall. I pulled the trigger, and the chain broke apart.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Typhon. You could've killed her!" Brand shouted at me as he lifted Penelope from the chair, into his arms, and carried her away.

"Yeah, well, I didn't," I muttered after he left the room.

"Let me take care of this before you bleed out." Seshat pushed me into a chair and sliced the sleeve of my jacket open. She tossed her knife on the table. "I fear this was my fault. My shot hit his arm."

"If it hadn't, he may have killed Penelope."

She nodded and wrapped the area that was still bleeding.

"What have you got for pain?" I asked once everyone else had left the room.

"Sorry. I don't carry anything."

I looked up at her and scowled.

"The plane's waiting. Let's go."

When she tried to help me from the chair, I yanked away from her. My eyes rolled back in my head when intense pain shot from my arm throughout my body.

"If you'd let me help you, that wouldn't have happened."

"Sod off," I said under my breath.

"You're welcome," she snapped back at me.

"If you'd pulled the trigger seconds earlier, Maximo wouldn't have had the chance to shoot me."

She was already halfway down the corridor.

"You all right, boss?" said Blackjack.

"I'll live." At least for now. On my way out, I spotted several surveillance cameras. Depending on who had access to the footage, I may be dead before I got out of Italy. While Valerio knew I was with Brand, it was my calling in Nemesis' team that would be my undoing.

While no one else knew it, the plane we were on was mine. I'd already instructed Angel to fly Brando and Penelope to the States after dropping the rest of us off at the Gatwick airfield.

I rested my head against the seat, dreading reading the message that had come in on the secure app I used only for my undercover work. I groaned as I read the hit order Benito received. Gerlando Battaglia wanted Valerio Scaglione dead. A few minutes later, I received a second hit order, this one from Scaglione on Battaglia.

I doubted either man was truly questioning my loyalty. Even if they were, whoever of them remained alive would immediately kill me.

Once I'd deboarded after bidding farewell to Brand, Penelope, and the others, I got in my vehicle, exited the tarmac, then reentered on the commercial side of the airport. I booked a flight under one of several aliases I used and didn't much care where it was going. The next place I landed would be where I caught another flight. I sent one message only, and it was to Z.

Deploy Operation Save the Fox.

He knew what to do, and I trusted him to make it happen.