Nick, Tommy, and Stevie were alone in Thiel’s office, watching the arrest happen on the wall monitor. Thiel had kept the laptop on Lucia’s console so they could watch the event live.
They fist-bumped each other, then Nick lowered his head and let out a deep breath.
“That gonna be enough for Angela?” Tommy asked him.
“I don’t know. What about you?”
“None of this will ever be good enough for me. I need to see a coffin.”
Stevie went over to the desk and pulled something out of his duffel bag. A glass Mason jar with a hermetically sealed pull-down lid. The liquid was clear with tiny black specs floating inside. Stevie took three shot glasses from his bag and placed them next to the jar.
“What’s that, buddy?” Tommy asked.
“Tanqueray gin, vermouth, lychee juice, dried yuzu, all infused with cachaca.”
“What?” Nick asked.
Stevie went over to the mini refrigerator/freezer and opened the small ice maker on the left side of the door. He dropped a few cubes into the Mason jar, shook it up, then poured out the mixture into the three shot glasses.
“Here,” he said, handing one to Tommy, then Nick. “I had a feeling we might need something like this for the trip. I just didn’t know it would be a celebration drink.”
Tommy held up his drink, then they all clinked glasses.
“Good job, you guys,” Nick said.
“Do not shoot it,” Stevie warned. “It’s a sipping drink. Very tasty. You need to enjoy the flavors as they go down.”
“You are such a nerd,” Tommy said.
“I know, right?”
Tommy took a sip, then felt the drink coat his throat on the way down. “I have no idea what half this stuff is, but it’s delicious.”
“Yeah, I discovered the recipe on one of my trips to Aitutaki, in the Cook Islands.”
“That’s way out there,” Tommy said. “By New Zealand, right?”
“Well, that’s like saying the Earth is near the Moon, but close enough.”
Tommy took another sip, thinking about Zelman and his fate.
As if Stevie could sense his thoughts, he said, “How is Angela going to feel about—”
“We don’t know,” Nick answered for him. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Tommy’s phone vibrated and Cara’s name came up on his screen. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh,” came a male voice. “Have you missed me?”
Tommy froze with a chill in his soul. “You sure you want this?”
There was a pause as Tapo Pashkov didn’t receive the response he was looking for. Tommy discreetly left Thiel’s office, then found an empty conference room across the hall and closed the door.
“And what is it you think I want?” Pashkov asked.
“Me.”
Another pause as Pashkov tried to figure out why the conversation wasn’t going the way he’d expected.
“Aren’t you curious how I am calling from your girlfriend’s phone?”
“I’m not Chechen, so I’ve already figured out you’re holding her for some kind of ransom.”
“Oh, you think you are so smart, don’t you?”
“I have my moments.”
“Well, you aren’t.”
Pashkov didn’t appear to be in control of the conversation and he did the only thing he could to maintain control. He didn’t speak, thinking that would get a rise out of Tommy. It worked.
“All right, asshole,” Tommy said. “Let me speak with her.”
“Are you always this disrespectful to the man who could take away something so valuable to you?”
“Excuse me,” Tommy said. “Mister Asshole.”
Pashkov hung up.
Tommy stood there, feeling his heart rate jump and his fingers tremble, holding the phone with a death grip.
Nick stood in the hallway, looking through the window.
He opened the door, cocked his head in and said, “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to kill him,” Tommy said squeezing his phone even tighter.
“Who?”
“No one.”
The phone vibrated in his hand and Cara’s name came up on Tommy’s screen again. He pointed to the hallway and said to Nick. “I need a little privacy.”
Nick gave him a wary expression, but left. As soon as the door closed, Tommy answered the phone.
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you ready to negotiate?” Pashkov said.
“I’m ready.”
“Good.”
“First, let me speak with her.”
After a couple of seconds, Pashkov’s voice came from a speaker phone. “She is right here.”
Cara’s voice was tired and had a resigned tone. “I am so sorry, Tommy.”
“How are they treating you?”
“Outside of a gunshot wound to my leg, I’m fine. They did the best they could, but I’ll need to get it fixed up sometime soon. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
Tommy was relieved to hear that her tone was subdued, not panicky.
“It’s all my fault,” Cara went on. “I should’ve taken Tully.”
“Forget it, Sweetie,” Tommy said. “It’s only money. You’ll be home soon.”
Pashkov was no longer on the speakerphone when he said, “I want to meet somewhere in public. I don’t want to see or hear any law enforcement. If I even see a cop look in my direction, I’ll have her killed. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe I would kill her?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good answer.”
“How much do you want?”
“Remember that conversation we had in my apartment? We discussed a figure of two million dollars to snitch on my fellow countrymen. Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“Okay,” Tommy said. “I can do that. How soon?”
“You hungry?”
“What?”
“I thought you and I should have a proper meal together. Air out our differences, then go our separate ways.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to prove to you who the smart one really is.”
“I see.”
“I will text you the restaurant an hour before we meet. Plan on meeting me at seven.”
Tommy looked up at the wall clock. It was 5:40. “Make it eight. I’ll need to time get the money together.”
“Cash.”
“I know.”
“And if I even—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It will be only me.”
“You won’t even tell your cousin?”
“No.”
There was a pause before Pashkov said, “I believe you.” Then he hung up.
Tommy stood there examining the life he chose. The people who had died because of their choices. He wanted to hold Cara and comfort her. He wanted to smother her with care and kisses. But first he needed to figure out how to get her home. He knew that Pashkov could not be trusted. He needed a backup plan. It was up to Tommy to free her. Just him.
Tommy dialed a number on his phone and when a male voice answered, he said, “Marty, have you found a job yet?”
“Yeah, I’m teaching culinary at a community college. You happy now?”
“You like the job?”
“No.”
“What other stuff do they teach there?”
“I don’t know, they have a journalism school, a nursing department, why do you care?”
“Listen” Tommy said, running a plan through his mind. “How would you like to pay off your debt to me tonight?”
“Who do I have to kill?”
“No one. I’ll handle that part. You interested?”
“Of course.”
Nick returned to the window and stared at his cousin.
“I gotta go,” Tommy said, then disconnected.
Tommy opened the door and said, “Don’t make a big thing about it. Just keep an eye on your phone. I might need your help in a couple of hours.”
“Tommy,” Nick said, leaving it there.
The two of them looked at each other, both knowing they were always walking a tightrope between the law and lawlessness.
“Trust me,” was all Tommy said.