He smiled. “Tell me where it is, or my friend here will start removing your fingers one at a time. And when you have no fingers left, he will begin to disembowel you.”
Sadie held on to her courage. “Then you’ll never find your money.”
Zhafa straightened. “How did you meet Mr. Friese?”
“I met him at a hotel bar.”
He measured her reply for a moment. “Are you sure you aren’t working with him?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I don’t work with him.”
“He is well connected for a man who is no longer with the Army.”
“Yes, and if you’re smart, you’ll let me go and forget about Calan.” She had no idea where she was getting this brazenness.
“How did he manage to have a plane waiting for him?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“And the yacht?”
“How should I know? I’m not his secretary.”
He backhanded her so fast she didn’t have time to brace herself. She grunted with the impact, tendrils of hair falling over her cheek. She shook her head to get it out of the way.
“Tell me where my money is.”
The blond man picked up the pruning shears and twirled it in front of her face.
She looked up at him. “You’re going to have to untie me to use that.”
“You have an insubordinate mouth for a woman who is about to die a slow and painful death.”
Sadie looked toward the door, wishing desperately that Calan would find her. But he wouldn’t. He didn’t know where she went and he didn’t know Zhafa had captured her, much less where she’d been taken.
“All you need to do is tell me where my money is. I will let you go.”
Sure he would. He’d let her go. Right after he killed her. She didn’t say anything. Seconds ticked onward, closer to her impending murder.
“Untie one of her hands and remove the small finger on her left hand,” he said to the blond man, who untied her.
She wrenched her hands, trying futilely to get away. Another man held her left hand while the blond man retied her right. Then he slapped her left hand down on the table.
Sadie screeched and kept her hand in a fist. Her palm was on fire from scraping herself earlier. The blond man pried her pinky finger out and spread it out onto the table.
“No!”
“Where is my money!” Zhafa roared.
“I told you I don’t know, and if you hurt me, do you think Calan will tell you?”
“No, you are going to tell me. Now where is it? I am tired of these games.” He nodded to the blond man.
Sadie screamed just as a bang echoed in the warehouse.
The blond man released her and straightened. Calan charging through the door he’d just kicked open with a flood of men on his heels was a sight she’d never forget. She frantically brought her hand around the back of the chair and began to work on the knot tying her other hand.
Zhafa raised his weapon and so did his men. But when Dervishi entered the warehouse, walking slow and surrounded by ten or more armed men, he lowered it and dropped it to the concrete floor.
“Calan,” she breathed as he came to her.
He knelt and helped her free her hand. She slid off the chair and onto her knees and then threw herself into his arms.
“Calan.”
“Sadie. Don’t ever leave me like that again.” He kissed her.
Did he mean it? She leaned back and took his face between her hands. “Calan.” She said his name instead of something else she’d regret.
She loved him?
She couldn’t possibly this soon. It was just the excitement, the tantamount rush of relief that he was here and no one was going to chop off her finger.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips. He slid his hands down her arms and pulled hers from around him. He held her palms up and saw the bloody scrapes there. If he were a dragon, fire would have poured from his nose. His brow shot down and his eyes beamed fury. He shifted his now deadly gaze to Zhafa.
That’s when Sadie realized everyone was watching them.
Dervishi’s men had Zhafa and his men at gunpoint. Dervishi stood in white slacks and a white jacket over a black shirt, one hand tucked in his pocket, quietly and calmly observing them.
But he soon turned his attention to Zhafa. “It would seem you’ve made someone upset.”
Zhafa said something in Albanian.
“Speak English so my guests can understand you,” Dervishi demanded.
Guests? Sadie looked to Calan, but he was still focused on Zhafa, who had hesitated.
“I can explain,” Zhafa finally said to Dervishi.
“Explain,” Dervishi mocked, walking to stand in front of him. Two of his men accompanied him, the barrels of their automatic rifles aimed at Zhafa, should he try anything. “Yes, I’d like you to explain what you were planning to do with my money.”
A cell phone rang and a man standing behind Dervishi answered.
“It was a harmless business deal,” Zhafa said. “I had a chance to make some extra money, that’s all.”
The man behind Dervishi spoke into his cell phone but was too quiet for Sadie to hear.
“With two-point-five million euros?” Dervishi’s eyebrows rose. “A little extra money?”
“I did not steal from you.”
“Where did you get it, then?”
“It was mine.”
The man who’d taken the call lowered the phone without disconnecting. “Sir.”
Dervishi kept his eyes on Zhafa. “Yes?”
“After a little persuasion, his girlfriend told us he was skimming off one of your hotels. The one he managed for you.”
“Well, now we know where the money came from.”
“I didn’t take any money from you. The bitch is lying. I sold my own product to earn that money.”
“Using the money you skimmed off my hotel?”
Zhafa remained silent. He was cornered and he knew it. “She also heard him talking to his friends about taking you down,” the man who’d taken the call added. “We have people at his bank right now.”
“Good work, Kostandin.” Dervishi again turned to Zhafa.
Sadie would have shrunk away from all that power and control.
“What do you suppose the bankers will say?”
Still, Zhafa didn’t speak.
“And what about anyone who’s worked with you? Helped you deceive me. Do you think they will tell me the truth if I offer to spare their lives?” He looked at the men with Zhafa. The blond man glanced fearfully at Zhafa and back at Dervishi.
“What were you planning to do once you were on your way, making money with your new friends?” Dervishi asked. When Zhafa had no answer, he continued. “Compete with me? Enlist a terrorist to use his body as a bomb? Were you hoping to kill me?”
Zhafa’s mouth tightened and his eyes were intense with anger. Was he angry that he’d been caught?
“You think you have what it takes to run my organization?”
“Mr. Dervishi—”
“Answer me!” Dervishi shouted, his voice echoing in the warehouse.
“I would run it so others could profit, not only you.”
Sadie fleetingly turned her head into Calan’s chest, bracing for what was to come. It was a mistake confessing that to someone like Dervishi.
Calan began to rise, holding her arms and helping her do the same. When they both stood, he slipped his arm around her waist and she stayed close to him, putting one arm around him, too, and curling her hand against his chest so her scrapes didn’t rub against the material. When no gunfire sounded, she dared to watch Dervishi and Zhafa go head to head again.
“You don’t like working for me? Have I been unfair to you? Treated you so poorly? Not paid you handsomely enough?”
“That is not—”
“You turn to greed and now you’ve betrayed me.”
“I did
not betray you.”
“No? I do not see it that way.”
Sadie noticed the subtle movement of Calan’s teammates, positioning themselves apart from each other, dispersing themselves evenly among Dervishi’s men.
“Nobody does business behind my back. You work for me. Everything goes through me first.”
“My business has nothing to do with yours.”
“That is not what I have discovered today, Gjerji. What I have discovered is that you have stolen from me and have desires to overthrow me.”
Zhafa put his hands up and looked at each of Dervishi's men. “I did not betray you.” He spoke pleadingly in Albanian.
“Kill him.”
Zhafa spoke again in Albanian, this time more rapidly and pushing his palms forward, a motion to stop Dervishi from what he was about to do.
Calan pulled Sadie against his chest as several shots went off, a cacophony of sound ricocheting off the high metal walls of the warehouse. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Zhafa lying on the floor, splatters of blood dotting the concrete. She stifled a cry of horror, uncertain if the man had deserved to be exterminated so ruthlessly, despite what he might have done to her. In her mind she knew it was inevitable, but the humanitarian in her couldn’t let go of the hope for good.
“Take the rest of them back to the estate,” Dervishi said.
As four of the men herded the blond man and his friends out of the warehouse, Sadie wondered what fate awaited them. Whatever lay in store for them, it probably wouldn’t be pleasant.
“And now there’s the matter of my money,” Dervishi said.
Three of his men moved to stand closer but kept their guns aimed high. Still, the movement triggered a reaction from M and the rest of the team. They turned their weapons on Dervishi and his men, which were now fewer in number since the others had taken Zhafa’s men away.
Dervishi held his hand up when his men aimed their weapons, too. “We have no problem here. I am indebted to you for exposing Zhafa and his treachery. But he has taken something that belongs to me.”
“I’m afraid we can’t give you the money,” Calan said.
Dervishi lifted his eyebrows, making his eyes incredulous but not any less threatening.
“It would go against the policy of my employer. I mean no disrespect, but that money was intended to fund terrorism.”
“I do not use my money to fund terrorism.”
No, but he used it for drug trafficking and Lord only knew what else. Sadie waited to see what Calan would do next.
“Again, I mean no disrespect.”
“But you won’t return my money.”
“I’m sorry. No.”
Sadie tensed while Dervishi merely contemplated Calan. Several agonizing seconds drifted by.
“Then perhaps we can work out another solution,” Dervishi suggested. “You’ve done me a great service today. I reward those who serve my interests. Keep the money, and do me one favor.”
“There are lines I can’t cross.”
“I understand. But were there ever to be a situation where I might need your assistance in some way…nothing unscrupulous, perhaps information. Perhaps an innocent errand. I cannot predict the need. I wish only to have the opportunity to call upon you. As a friend.”
Calan smiled. “I would welcome it. But I would also caution you that I may have to decline. There are lines, as I’ve said.”
“Yes, yes. I understand about lines. But I cannot let so much money slip away without some kind of investment in return.”
“I will honor any request you have that is in my ability to accommodate.”
Dervishi stepped forward and extended his hand. Calan took it and they shook on the agreement.
“In my business, a man’s word is as good as his signature.”
“In mine, men who cross the wrong lines are my enemy.”
The not-so-subtle insult hardened Dervishi’s eyes. He was a man who crossed lines. He just hadn’t crossed Calan’s yet. Calan’s boldness may have pushed a little too far.
But Dervishi let the comment go. “We do not have to be friends to help each other. You have exposed Gjerji’s treachery to me. Had he been allowed to carry out his plan, he could have done much more damage. He was one of my top men.” He looked down at Zhafa's body. “You never know when your friends are going to turn on you.” He raised his gaze. “I consider this a worthy cost.” Handing Calan one of his business cards, he then extended a pen.
Calan wrote his cell number on it. Then he handed the card back.
Dervishi took it. “Have a safe trip home, Mr. Friese.”
Sadie sagged with relief.
“Thank you.” Calan guided her around Zhafa’s body.
“Clean up this mess,” Dervishi bellowed to his men. “I want to be home in time to see my daughter.”
M and the others took up the rear after she and Calan passed. Outside, Sadie felt a huge weight lift off her. Nothing was standing in her way of leaving now. She had her passport—her real one—and Calan had no reason to stop her.
But she wished he did. A nonviolent one. Her mood swung low again. When had she ever been that lucky? Never. So why would anything change now? She’d go her way and he’d go his. He’d probably drop her off at the airport now. And she’d never see him again.
Shouldn’t that make her happy? She’d risked a lot getting away from him. What was so different now?
Don’t ever leave me like that again…
Chapter 13
M parked near the main terminal of Andoni International Airport. On the way here it had been decided that M would pilot them home. Along with his spying abilities, he’d somewhere along the line learned to fly planes. Sadie had told them she’d rather fly commercial, but M had insisted they personally see to it she made it home.
Calan sat next to her in the car. He hadn’t said much. He’d barely looked her way, either. His energy radiated the need to be away from her. Now that he knew she’d be safe, nothing buffered the tragedies of his past, the very things that kept his heart locked away from her.
She got out with the rest of them, going to the trunk to get her duffel bag. But Calan took hold of her wrist, careful to avoid her scraped hand, which they’d cleaned up and put ointment on before leaving for the airport. He pulled her back while the others gathered their things. She looked at him, startled.
M slung a bag over his shoulders and smiled at Sadie.
“Nice to meet you,” Merrick said, extending his hand and then remembering her hands and hugging her instead.
“Take care of our boy,” Owen said. “No more handcuffs.” He winked.
George chuckled. “Invite us to the wedding.”
“Wh—”
“See you in a couple of weeks,” M said to Calan, shaking his hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you. I hope we have the chance again. We make a good team.”
“I agree. Thanks for everything.”
George gave a nod of farewell. Owen and Merrick started for the terminal. M tossed Calan the car keys and followed.
Watching their retreating backs, Sadie turned to Calan. “What…why…” She pointed to the men. “What’s going on, Calan?”
He grinned. “Get in.”
“Why? Where are we going?” He was making her go with him again?
“On vacation.”
She wasn’t sure she liked that. What did he think they’d do? Have a two-week affair and then split up?
“Get in.”
What else could she do? She didn’t want to try to fly home from this airport. A mobster’s airport.
She got in the car.
In Durres, they passed through customs with ease. The yacht they’d commandeered from Zhafa was now docked near the marina building. But Sadie hadn’t worried. She was legal again and on her way home. The ferry took the rest of the afternoon to reach Bari, and now she walked with Calan at the marina.
She’d stopped trying to get him to tell her why he was making her
go with him. He wasn’t going to tell her. She did wish he’d put her out of her misery, though. At least tell her why he was doing this…keeping her with him just like he had before. Only now there was no danger lurking.
At a pretty seventy-five-or-so-foot yacht called Bellamy, he stepped onto the swim deck, turning to offer his hand. Sadie didn’t have to take it, but she did. He let her go ahead of him up the portside stairs leading to the aft deck, where a blue bench seat lined the stern with two wood-planked chairs and a table before it.
“Is this where M put the money?” she asked as she entered the main salon, with its grand ceiling and plush brown and blue sectional and a pair of chairs. Beyond was a modern galley with white cabinetry and a snack bar with stools. There was also a dining table.
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you worried how you’re going to get it to the United States?”
“It’s already there by now.”
She sent him a questioning look.
“We had a courier pick it up and ship it to TES.”
“That simple, huh?”
“Helps to have the right connections.”
She nodded, wandering toward the galley and the wine rack she’d spotted. When she picked out an Italian red, Calan took it from her and opened it for her. She watched his face as he worked. He poured her a glass and then himself one.
When he held his glass, his eyes moved to hers.
Going to one of the snack bar stools, she sat. He sat to her left.
“This brings back memories,” he said.
They were on stools, he to her left, just like at the hotel bar. Eyeing him askance, seeing the sparkle of flirtation in his eyes, she sipped her wine and then lowered the glass.
“When are you going tell me what this is all about?” she asked.
“Do you want to leave?”
She sighed. Yes, she did, but only to protect her heart. No, she didn’t because she was too curious and hopeful at the moment.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Calan said.
Sadie sipped her wine, uncertain.
“What is this, Calan? I’ve come this far with you. Tell me why I’m sitting on a yacht with you in Italy.”
“I thought we’d stop at a few places. Here in Italy. Greece. Spain. After a couple of weeks, we can go home.”
Seducing the Accomplice Page 18