Shadow Tyrants (Oregon Files 13)

It sounded like they walked away, and MacD was about to say something, but Juan put up his hand to stop him. There weren’t enough footsteps.

Doors slammed, and Carlton spoke again in a more hushed tone.

“They may not be with Torkan, but they’re up to something,” he said.

“I’ll find out what it is,” Taylor said. “It’s surprising how much more information you can get from two people than you can from just one, especially when you begin carving one up in front of the other.”

“Good. No matter what, though, it’s probably not wise to take them all the way to your destination. Toss them out of the plane over the ocean when you have as much as you can get out of them.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

“Not now, not after Torkan tried to kill me. I’ll be safer on the Colossus 5 until it’s up and running.”

“What about Lionel Gupta?”

“Stick to the plan. Take him and the two prisoners to the airport by helicopter.”

“And your cars?”

“Search them again, and then lock up the truck for the drive to the plane. I still want them in Australia when you’re done with the other segments of the mission. Oh, and Natalie? Good work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

One set of footsteps walked away. Then Taylor started giving instructions to the men about the truck.

Juan looked at the others as he thought about what they’d learned.

“If they’re being flown to the airport,” MacD said, “we can’t intercept them en route.”

“Maybe we can take them when they land by the plane,” Raven said.

“I can tell you that would be a suicide mission,” Tiny said. “No way we can get anywhere close to that A380 without drawing attention.”

The three of them looked at Juan, who said, “I think our only option is to get on Carlton’s private jet and rescue them once they’re in the air.”

MacD gaped at him. “How? Tiny doesn’t think we can get near it.”

“Linc and Eddie gave us a way when they told us about the cars.”

He sized up Tiny, who looked back at Juan in confusion. “Me?”

Juan continued. “I can’t fly that thing, so I’m going to need a pilot just in case we can’t persuade them to do what we want. Can you fly it?”

“Sure,” Tiny said. “Not well, but I can get us back on the ground in one piece. The question is, how do we get on in the first place?”

“We drive on,” Juan said. “The 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz is a huge car. There’s plenty of room for both of us in the trunk.”

FORTY-SEVEN

Andreas Ladas drove the truck carrying Xavier Carlton’s cars like his life depended on it. He’d heard about some kind of situation at the dock in the early hours of the morning and he’d been terrified that the billionaire had discovered some kind of damage done during the transportation process. Luckily, it turned out to be something else, but nobody would tell him what had happened.

Both he and Georgios, who was sitting in the passenger seat, had moved cars for Carlton before and knew how demanding he was. If there was even a hint that they’d caused a scratch, they’d both lose their jobs.

Despite his fears, Andreas hoped they wouldn’t have any problems this early in the morning. The traffic was light on the divided A5 highway, and they were making good time.

About halfway to the airport, though, they ran into a section with red and white markers diverting the vehicles down to one lane for repaving work. Cars weren’t backed up very far, but it would take a little longer to get through this stretch. Andreas knew Carlton’s assistant, Natalie Taylor, would be impatiently waiting for them at the airport if they didn’t get there on time. He’d seen a helicopter land on the ship to pick her up at the same time as they were driving away from the dock.

Andreas began merging the truck over when a tiny Fiat behind him raced forward, trying to sneak between him and the concrete median.