Georgios said, “It’s okay. Thank you.”
They walked back to the rear of the truck, and Georgios climbed in while MacD got back in the van. He watched as Georgios inspected the cars’ exteriors and their tie-downs to make sure they hadn’t shifted during the quick stop.
He never even put his hands on the Caddy’s trunk.
Georgios got out and pulled the door down, locking it up again. He went around the truck, saw the driver still arguing with the woman, and yelled something in Greek, waving his hands like they should get going.
“We’re good to go, Raven,” MacD said, and started the van.
* * *
—
As soon as she heard that from MacD, Raven stopped yelling at the truck driver. She instantly changed her tone from anger to remorse, as if she suddenly understood that the accident was her fault, not his.
“You not see me?” she said in broken English.
“No, you drive up fast next to me,” Andreas said. “I don’t see you.”
“Oh, I sorry. Please, no call police.” She made tears well up in her eyes.
He tilted his head back in the Greek gesture for no.
“Is okay,” he said with a grin, and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We go now.”
She thanked him profusely and got back into the rental Fiat. That was about the only thing she hadn’t lied about.
She wheeled the car around and got going again, the truck following behind.
“I’ll meet you at the airport,” she said into her mic.
“Roger that,” MacD replied.
Neither of them mentioned that the most dangerous part of the plan was yet to come, and it was completely out of their hands. All they could do was hope that Taylor didn’t notice the Cadillac was riding a bit lower with the added weight and decide to open its trunk to investigate why.
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.”