Shadow Tyrants

FORTY-EIGHT

When they reached the international airport in Larnaca, Raven could easily see the towering double-decker A380 from the edge of the short-term lot where she joined MacD in the van. The high-powered binoculars she was using gave her a good view of the fold-out stairway at the front of the plane as well as the ramp extending from the cargo area at the rear. Andreas and Georgios were standing next to the truck waiting for a signal to take the cars out.

“I thought these Airbuses didn’t have loading ramps,” she said, handing the binoculars to MacD, who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“The passenger models don’t,” he said. “But Carlton’s plane is a custom job. Supposedly, it’s based on a cargo version Airbus prototype but never put into service. I heard it took a year to install all the special wood and gold finishes.”

“What a waste. That thing must cost tens of thousands of dollars an hour just to fly one guy around.”

“And he’s not even going this time. But with the billions he has, Carlton can afford it.”

The chop of a helicopter’s rotors cut the air. They turned and saw a seven-passenger Agusta extend its landing gear and settle to the tarmac beside the A380.

MacD handed the binoculars back to Raven and she saw Taylor get out with two of her hired thugs. They shielded their weapons from view, but they were clearly ready to use them.

Lionel Gupta was the next one to exit, hoisting his considerable bulk out of the chopper. Then Eddie and Linc got out. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and their legs were loosely tied together to keep them from running.

“How do they look?” MacD asked.

“No injuries as far as I can see.”

“They did say the rough stuff would happen on the plane.”

The guards herded the three prisoners to the stairs and into the jet.

Taylor waited for the helicopter to take off again, then went over to Andreas and Georgios and told them to unload the cars.

“Smart,” MacD said. “Keep the rotor wash from pelting those beauties with pebbles from the tarmac.”

The truckers carefully moved the Cadillac and the Bugatti out onto the asphalt, and Taylor walked around them for a final inspection.

“Think they’ll say anything about the fender bender?” Raven asked.

MacD scoffed. “And risk getting chewed out by Iron Britches? Not a chance.”

Taylor paused at the rear of the Caddy, apparently making a decision.

“Chairman,” Raven said into her mic, “she might be getting ready to open the trunk.”

She didn’t expect an answer. The Chairman and Tiny had to stay absolutely still so they wouldn’t be heard. But they would have their weapons at the ready if the worst happened, and MacD was prepared to drive straight through the security fence to provide support if needed.

Raven’s grip on the binoculars eased when Taylor moved on and waved for Andreas and Georgios to put the cars on the plane.

“Chairman, you’re clear for now,” she said. “Good hunting.”

First, the Caddy went in, then the Bugatti. After they were tied down, the two transporters got back into the truck and drove away. Raven’s last view of Taylor was of her in the cargo bay of the plane pressing the large red button to close the ramp door.

Juan and Tiny didn’t put down their suppressed pistols, keeping them aimed at the trunk lid in case Taylor decided to do a last-minute inspection. They hadn’t bothered bringing assault rifles on board knowing how easily the high-powered rounds could pierce the fuselage and cause an explosive decompression.

They heard Taylor walk past the car and open the door to the elevator alcove. Only when the door shut again did Juan relax.

Still, she was smart, so he didn’t put it past her to try to trick them. Tiny took a deep breath and was about to speak, but Juan stopped him. He used his phone to tap out a message.

Stay quiet until we’re in the air.

Tiny nodded.

The Cadillac vibrated as the plane’s four huge engines started up. Soon, it was rolling toward the runway.

“We won’t know if this works until we hear from them,” Raven said as she watched the A380 taxi away.

“We’ll know one way or the other,” MacD said.

“What do you mean?”

“You know that tracker you got shot into your leg when you joined the Corporation?”

She nodded.

“The ones in their legs should be going hundreds of miles an hour until the plane lands again.”

“And if the trackers stop moving,” Raven said, “we’ll know they aren’t on the plane anymore.”

“Right. But don’t worry. The Chairman’s got the most important element on his side.”

“Guns?”

“I was thinking of surprise,” MacD said with a grin. “But guns are a definite plus.”

The A380 thundered down the runway and took off. A minute later, it disappeared into the clouds over the Mediterranean.