Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Trujillo, Puerto Jardin

Present Day

FINN STOOD in the vestibule of La Brisa Griega , hands over his head and watched his weapons get placed one by one on the counter. As the saying went, it was déjà vu all over again. The same woman was behind the cash register. The same obstacles to quickly exiting the restaurant remained in place. He even had the same bodyguard patting him down.

There were a few differences from two years ago, though. This time, Case Lundquist—AKA Lurch—was along as sidekick, they'd had enough notice to get his team in position to back them up, and Zo wouldn't be in the dining room, glaring daggers at the back of his head.

Zo. Yeah. Finn took a deep breath and forced her out of his mind. Meeting with Silva was going to require his full attention, and he couldn't afford to be distracted with worry for her. He had to trust she could take care of herself and he had other, more immediate concerns .

Bringing Lurch was a calculated risk. Silva could get pissed and call off the meeting, but the captain wanted someone set up for future missions, and so did Finn. He was done being dragged into this shit—either by his team or by Ramos.

The bodyguard who'd gone to check whether or not Lurch would be permitted to join them returned to the foyer. "Se?or Silva," the man announced, "will allow both of you to meet with him."

"Gracias," Finn said.

His second pat-down ended, and the guard indicated they should precede him into the dining area. Finn had been through this procedure so many times two years ago that he didn't so much as glance at the pile left on the counter, but it was Lundquist's first go-round.

"Hey, what about my weapons?" Lurch asked.

"Se?ora Rosa will watch over them until we leave," Finn told him and nodded to the woman behind the cash register. She inclined her head.

They followed the bodyguards. Silva had taken over the same corner table where Finn had met him two years ago. It wasn't a surprise because there were no differences in the dining room, and it was the most secure location available. The man had his back to the wall, a bodyguard standing on either side of him.

Finn's gaze raked over their host as he walked. Silva hadn't changed in two years. His silver hair was precisely cut, he wore the round-rimmed glasses he favored, and his suit was fitted perfectly. The man looked like a Fortune 500 CEO, not an arms dealer. Exactly as he had at their first meeting, and every other time he'd seen him after that.

But while he might appear the same, Silva had changed. He'd always been cautious, but now he'd taken it to extremes, at least according to the briefing he'd gotten from the chief. The word paranoid had been used.

The buffer zone around his table was larger than Finn recalled, but maybe it was nothing more than people choosing outdoor seating. A bodyguard stepped forward and pulled out two chairs. Finn sat, and Lurch followed a split second later. Their escorts took up their positions.

After taking a sip of coffee and placing his cup in its saucer, Silva said, "Ah, Se?or Finley. The last time I met with you, I ended up in prison."

"And the last time I met with you , Se?or Silva, I ended up in prison. Because I'm an American, my friends couldn't bribe the kind of accommodations you and Se?or Torres were able to secure."

For a moment, Silva considered his words. "Is this why you retired from the business?"

Finn shrugged. "It's part of it."

"And the other part was your woman's dislike of your profession."

It wasn't a question. "It seemed like a good time to go legit."

The waiter hovered nearby, out of hearing range, and Silva signaled him forward. "Se?or Finley will have coffee from Narino. I remembered your preference correctly, did I not?" he asked.

"Sí," Finn agreed, not surprised by the arms dealer's recall.

"And you, se?or?" Silva addressed Lurch.

"Narino works for me, too."

As the waiter left with their orders, Silva studied them. "You have yet to perform introductions. Who is your friend, Se?or Finley?"

"Se?or Silva, meet Charlie Case. Case, Henri Silva."

"Se?or Silva," Lurch said, holding out a hand. He ended up lowering it without getting a handshake.

Silva studied Lurch without saying a word. Finn wasn't sure what the man was looking for. Lundquist was a few years younger than Finn, a couple inches shorter, and not quite as broad through the shoulders. He had a babyface, which his beard didn't disguise, blue eyes, and medium blond hair. He looked like a surfer dude, but he was from Minneapolis, a city that couldn't be any farther from the ocean, and he claimed he'd never touched a surfboard.

Without so much as a nod of acknowledgment, Silva dismissed Lurch and turned to Finn. "Why is he here?"

They paused as the waiter arrived with a tray. There was silence as he placed the two coffees in front of Finn and Lurch, refreshed Silva's cup, and set a plate of alfajores cookies in the center of the table.

"That will be all. Gracias," Silva said, and after a slight bow, the man left. "Well, Se?or Finley?"

Finn reached for his cup. "I've been out of the business, and I want to stay out, but Se?or Ramos had other ideas." He sipped his coffee. It was hot and strong, the way he liked it. "Case, here, is a friend of mine, and he's still working as a merc. He's looking for another stream of income. Seemed to me like this would be a good opportunity for him."

Silva mulled that over. "Do you believe Se?or Ramos will allow him to become his new broker? That he'll allow you to abdicate the position?"

"I don't know." Finn shrugged. "I hope so."

Instead of replying, Silva drank from his own cup and reached for a cookie, carefully taking a bite to prevent the powdered sugar from landing on his suit. "I will have Se?or Case checked out," the arms dealer said. "If I don't like what I find, do not bring him to another meeting, understood?"

"Sí, Se?or Silva. What about our meeting today? Can we begin discussions?"

Silva finished his cookie. "I am aware Se?or Ramos wishes to make another purchase. He made it clear over the telephone."

Finn asked the question that had been gnawing at him since Ramos had told him his demands. "If Se?or Ramos can call you and arrange this meeting, why wasn't he able to negotiate his own deal? Why is a broker required?"

The silver-haired man froze with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth, then lowered it without drinking. "Se?or Ramos did not tell you?"

"No."

"Ah, not too surprising, when one considers it." Now Silva raised his cup and took a swallow. "A number of years ago, Se?or Ramos and Se?or Torres had a deal in place. When it came time for delivery—and for the rest of the required payment—Ramos decided to renegotiate the price to monies already paid. He brought a platoon of men with him to enforce his new deal. We, naturally, took exception."

"Of course," Finn agreed. "A deal is a deal."

With a nod, Silva set the cup he'd been cradling back into its saucer. "Se?or Torres, however, is never unprepared. He's been in business too long to trust anyone. Our men fought to enforce the verbal contract, and while we lost a few good people, we prevailed."

That was a story Finn wished he'd gotten in an intel briefing. "I'm surprised you continue to do business with Se?or Ramos."

Silva shrugged. "His money—when we receive it—is good, and he's a regular client. However, we refuse to negotiate with him directly."

"And that's where the broker comes in."

"Sí. Let me fill you in on your role since Se?or Ramos has apparently failed to do so. In addition to negotiating for price and inventory, you will also be required to ensure that full payment is collected before we meet to deliver the merchandise. If you do not have all the funds, don't bother to show up. Is that clear?"

"Clear as glass. Is this a cash-and-carry deal or wire transfer? "

"Wire transfer is preferred. Once we receive confirmation from the bank, the rest of the exchange will occur."

"And armed men could try to recover the cash," Lurch added.

One side of Silva's mouth quirked up, but he hardly glanced at Lundquist. "Perhaps he's not as vacuous as he appears."

Finn struggled to remain impassive, but it was amusing. His former teammate was not only not stupid, but he also had a degree in mathematics. He glanced over at Lurch. "That's a nice way of saying you're not as dumb as you look," he said.

"Thanks," Lurch drawled. "I managed to puzzle it out on my own."

Forcing his humor aside, Finn returned his attention to Silva. "Basically, the job title isn't broker. It's babysitter and enforcer."

Inclining his head, Silva helped himself to another cookie. "Sí. Ernesto handled the job well. I hope you are up to the task."

"Yeah, me, too." Finn asked another question, "Was Ernesto really stealing from Se?or Ramos?"

Silva shrugged one shoulder—he didn't know, and he didn't care.

Okay. Next topic. "Did Se?or Ramos mention what he's looking to purchase when he called?"

After finishing his cookie, Silva said, "No, he said you would know."

Finn wasn't sure how to interpret it. He'd expected that Ramos would have detailed exactly what he wanted and how many, and Finn would negotiate what Silva would actually deliver and how much it would cost. The fact that the drug lord hadn't done so was peculiar. "He wants some ARADs," he said.

"That's possible," Silva said .

"And a lot more of the precision-guided, US-made rifle he bought earlier."

Silva's lips puckered, his expression clearly one of displeasure. "That won't be possible."

"You don't have any in inventory?"

Speaking slowly as if he were choosing his words carefully, Silva said, "This particular item has proven to be popular, and we've had many inquiries from potential customers. As Se?or Ramos has demonstrated himself to be cost-conscious, he might want to consider other options."

"You're taking them to auction?" Finn asked.

Ignoring the question, Silva placed his napkin beside his plate. He turned his gaze to the bodyguard on Finn's right. "Hand Se?or Finley one of my cards." The man did as instructed. "This is my business number."

"You didn't give this to me two years ago," Finn commented as he glanced down at the card he held, memorizing the number quickly.

"You were a seller then. Now you are a buyer. Have your discussion with Se?or Ramos, and if you remain interested in making a purchase, telephone me." Silva stood and said, "I'll pay for the coffee on my way out."