Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

Alfonso Ramos' Estate

Present Day

FINN WAS GETTING out of the shower when the bathroom door opened. It wasn't a surprise to see Zo wander in. She'd done this every morning they'd been here. He reached for a towel as she sat on the marble edge surrounding the tub. She'd been awake before him again and was dressed in jeans and another polo shirt. This one was black. As he dried off, he checked her feet. Running shoes. Perfect.

"Still not a good time to talk?" she asked.

Shaking his head, Finn tied the towel around his waist. The last two days had been intense. He'd never have believed that a complicated arms deal worth millions of dollars could come together this quickly, but it had. Once he'd lit a fire under both Ramos and Silva. "Definitely not today."

"Yeah, I get it." She frowned. "I don't like it when we have unresolved issues."

He grabbed another towel and used it on his hair. "I don't like it either, and I know we need to discuss it, but I don't have the mental bandwidth to go there. Not today."

Zo straightened, and their eyes met in the mirror. Finn opened the drawer, got out a comb, and ran it through his too-short hair. He could see she'd connected the dots. "I'll try to stay with Tia Izel near the casita. Al's been insisting I join him for lunch every day, though."

"He won't today." Putting the comb away, he used the towel from his hair to dry off more thoroughly.

"He's hanging with you then?"

"Afraid so."

"That's unusual, isn't it?"

Finn shrugged. "He doesn't trust me with his money."

Zo's lips pursed, and her brow furrowed. "Wouldn't he use a wire transfer?"

"We are. He is." Finn started pulling on clothes. He wanted a Kevlar vest, camouflage fatigues, and his own weapons, but what he had were hiking boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt that wouldn't protect him from shit. "But someone has to transfer the rest of the payment, and he doesn't want it to be me or any of his lieutenants."

She watched him button his shirt, tuck it into his jeans, and fasten them before she said, "Watch your back. Once he has what he wants, there is nothing stopping Al from putting a bullet in your head."

Finn scowled at her. First, she doubted his ability to work out a deal and thought she should take over. For fuck's sake, Army Special Forces constantly dealt with foreign militaries and civilians. He'd been trained to negotiate. Now, she didn't think he knew how to handle himself during a weapons purchase. Yeah, not only did Zo not need him, she thought she could do his job better than he could.

Slowly, Zo pushed to her feet. "I don't know what I said to piss you off this time either, but just because you were some hotshot soldier doesn't mean I'm not going to worry about you. It doesn't mean I'm not going to remind you to keep yourself safe."

He caught her hand before she could leave the bathroom. "Sorry, loquita, I'm edgy right now, and you're the first person who's ever worried about me. I'm not used to it."

She moved into him when he tugged her against his body. "I'm not the first. Ryder and Langley practically left a vapor trail getting out to LA when you told them you'd moved in with me. And after they decided I was probably okay, Griff and Kyle arrived a few weeks later to check me out. They did it because they care about you."

"Not the same thing." He pushed her braid behind her shoulder. "So you don't think I'm incompetent, then?" He'd meant to sound as if he were teasing her, but Finn was wound too tightly to pull it off.

With a small smile, Zo shook her head. "I've seen you in action, remember? I know you can handle pretty much anything that comes your way." The smile slipped away, and she dropped her gaze for a moment. "I want you home safely, Finn," she said when she looked up again. Her voice was thick, but there were no sign of tears. "Your number one priority is staying alive."

"My number one priority is getting you out of here alive," Finn corrected. "Stay alert, don't let your guard down, and don't trust anyone. Not the maid who serves you lunch, not the guard who smiles when you pass him on your way to the casita. No one."

She nodded, then Zo hugged him hard, burying her face against his throat. Finn returned the embrace every bit as tightly. No matter how many plans and contingencies were in place, there were too many players, and anything could happen to either one of them today. He didn't want to let go of her, didn't want to leave her alone, but in a couple of minutes, he was going to have to do both and trust this wasn't the last time he'd have her in his arms.

Huarona Ruins

Near San Isidro, Puerto Jardin

Present Day

Finn didn't like being the only unarmed man at the exchange. He didn't like that Ramos had decided to handle the transaction himself because he didn't trust Finn—or anyone else—with that many millions of dollars. And he for damn sure didn't like that both Silva and Ramos had armies with them. His gut was issuing insistent warnings, but he hadn't located what had set off his instincts, and it made him edgy as hell.

His team was here. Somewhere. Probably not too close, though, because the drug lord and the arms dealer would have men threaded throughout the rainforest on the perimeter of the ruins. Watching. Finn didn't even have Lurch with him.

As it stood, he didn't know why he was here. He'd been sequestered to the side, two of Ramos' men keeping him away from the action. In essence, he'd become a bystander, and Finn didn't understand it. Had the drug lord only needed him for the negotiations? And if so, was his presence here simply to reassure Silva?

Finn crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall behind him.

Fuck, he hoped this didn't mean Ramos was planning a double-cross. He'd balked at the final amount before agreeing to it.

It rained lightly as they waited. Silva and his men were near the pyramid while Ramos and his employees stood opposite them in front of an elaborately carved wall. The drug lord not only had his lieutenants with him, but he was also surrounded by bodyguards. The twitchy feeling escalated, and Finn looked around again.

There was no visible reason for his unease.

Ramos. Unpredictable didn't begin to cover him. Finn would have had this deal in place earlier and with more goodwill than was currently the case if the asshole had stayed out of it. He'd honest-to-God hopped on the phone and inserted himself into negotiations—even insulting Silva more than once. He'd also insisted the arms dealer be there in person or the agreement was off. The fact that Silva hadn't told them to go fuck themselves was solely because of Finn's ability to smooth ruffled feathers, and of course, the massive amount of money involved.

Things should start rolling soon. Once Silva's team arrived with a few crates of the weapon, Ramos would check them out, and if they met his review, he'd transfer the remaining monies owed. The arms dealer would then confirm he'd received payment before handing over the keys to the truck with the rest of the rifles. And Finn would be standing around with his thumb up his ass, watching.

He kept his face neutral, but his gut churned. Finn wanted his instincts to be wrong. He wanted everything to go according to plan. He wanted to move on to the next problem—getting Zo and Tia Izel off the compound. If Ramos decided to—

Shaking his head, he pushed that worry aside. One situation at a time.

Vargas walked toward him, and Finn tensed. Speaking of assholes. He straightened, unfolding his arms and balancing his weight evenly.

The man got straight to the point when he stopped in front of Finn. "Se?or Ramos is unhappy. The weapons were supposed to be here five minutes ago. Find out why there's a delay."

"They gave us a window. They're not late yet. "

"Would you like to explain that to Se?or Ramos?"

Finn glanced over at the drug lord, took in the expression on his face, and shook his head. "On it."

Keeping his hands in plain view, he crossed the divide that separated the two sides with a measured stride until he was ordered to stop. He'd gotten closer than he'd expected.

One of Silva's bodyguards came over to meet him.

"Is there an update on the arrival time of the men with the rifles?" Finn asked.

"Wait here."

The man went to Silva, conferred with him briefly, and then returned. "Se?or Silva will speak with you."

Finn waited for the pat-down to begin, but the man gestured for him to follow. He fell into step with the bodyguard. "You didn't search me for weapons."

They'd nearly reached Silva, and it was the arms dealer who responded. "Se?or Ramos would have had his men disarm you already."

"True, but I didn't think you'd take it on faith."

The other man didn't answer. He simply stared across the clearing at Ramos. Silva was dressed more casually than Finn had ever seen him. He wore khakis with hiking boots and a drab green rain jacket. His slim build seemed bulked up, and it was a good bet he had a vest on underneath his gear. Ramos was similarly protected, along with his lieutenants.

"I hear your client is growing impatient," Silva said, finally meeting Finn's gaze.

"He is. Do you have an ETA on your men?"

Silva tapped the edge of his phone twice. "They contacted me when they parked the truck. The rainforest and the weight of the merchandise control their rate of speed, but they'll be here well within the timeframe I specified when we laid out the details."

"Gracias. I'll tell him."

"Whatever you're earning as commission, Se?or Finley, it's not enough." There was a hard note in Silva's voice that made Finn pause.

"I'm not being paid any money. Se?or Ramos is playing host to my wife and the woman who is her second mother."

"Ah," Silva said as he understood the situation. "I hope he honors his promise to you and allows them to leave at the conclusion of the deal."

Finn shrugged. So did he. "I'll let him know the goods are on their way."

As he walked to where Ramos waited, Finn felt the hair on his nape stand on end. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, but Silva's army hadn't changed their stances, and no weapons were aimed at him. That he could see. But both sides did have men hidden around the city.

Ramos' bodyguards headed him off, steering him back toward Vargas. Great. It meant he'd have to rely on the man Zo called Dead Eyes to calm his boss, and there was no guarantee he'd try very hard. Finn had met each of Ramos' four lieutenants, and while he trusted none of them, Vargas put him most on guard.

"Se?or Silva said his men are on the way," Finn reported when he arrived at his former spot. "They'll be here as soon as they can."

"You believed him?" Vargas asked.

His voice was flat, giving Finn no indication of why he'd asked that question. "Sure, why wouldn't I? He stands to make a fortune if this deal goes through."

"Se?or Torres will make a fortune. Se?or Silva will receive his usual salary," Vargas corrected before he left and returned to Ramos.

Finn shifted, putting his back squarely against the stone behind him. He wanted a weapon, bad. He didn't care if it was a pistol or a rifle. He just didn't want to be unarmed.

Something was off.

The jungle was trying to swallow the ruins, so if all hell broke loose, he'd have plenty of cover to lose himself in. He'd memorized the location of every stone and fallen tree, and he was confident he could disappear easily. Casually, as if he was merely bored, Finn scanned the area, looking for what was triggering his instincts.

Nothing.

If things went to shit, he could take out a guard, disarm him, and disappear into the brush. The problem was Zo and Tia Izel. Could Finn get them out before Ramos returned to the compound and released his fury on the women?

Shouts came as someone heard men approaching. Everyone from both sides became alert, more watchful than they'd been. Silva's team relaxed slightly when four dudes with a couple of crates entered the clearing. The precision-guided rifles had arrived.

One of Silva's men indicated the center of the clearing. The crates were deposited there, and the lids pried off. That same associate moved near the weapons and waited.

Finn looked at Ramos to see if he'd changed his mind and did want Finn to examine the merchandise, but the drug lord never glanced at him. Accompanied by his bodyguards and Vargas, it was Ramos who went to the crates. Silva remained where he was. His confederate would handle the exchange unless Ramos made it an issue.

Vargas lifted a rifle from the crate, studied it intently, and passed it to his boss. As Ramos caressed the stock, his lieutenant took a second one, examining it every bit as intently.

Everything was going about the way he'd expect, but his instincts began to howl. Finn sidled closer to the end of the rock wall.

Vargas returned the second weapon to its cradle and reached for a third one.

A shot echoed through the clearing.

In the next instant, half of Ramos' head was missing. There was a split second where time seemed to stand still. Then the reality of the drug lord's death registered.

"Bianchi! It's Bianchi's men," a voice called from the surrounding trees.

A contingent of Ramos' team headed toward the voice, weapons ready to hunt down the rival drug lord's assassination squad.

Finn didn't hesitate. With a couple of quick moves, he knocked out the guard closest to him, took his M4, and melted into the undergrowth. Concealed, he watched Silva's bodyguards hustle him to safety. The remaining men secured the rifles, picked up the crates, and hurried away from the ruins.

Shit. This meant it was going to a bitch to get to those weapons before they were resold. Before they were packed up and shipped out of Puerto Jardin. Fucking Bianchi.

Not all of Ramos' employees went to avenge his death. Instead, Finn saw a power struggle start for control of the drug cartel.

Ramos' four lieutenants each wanted to run the show, and it would be a fight to the death to see who became the next kingpin.