However, how can I say that when I know what we're planning for Ricardo? Hopefully, that thought doesn't cross her mind, too.
Cora's phone buzzes on the table in front of us and I grab it, reading the notification that comes across. "Alec says he'll be here as soon as he can."
"Okay," she says, not taking her eyes off the television. "Is that Silver?" Cora hops up from the couch and walks over to the screen. "Right there?"
"That's him," I confirm, scanning the rest for the man we're still waiting on.
Silver glances up at the camera near him and raises his fingers slightly to acknowledge us.
"See, he's good, everything is going to be fine." Although, I don't know whether I'm trying to pacify myself or Cora.
My eyes trail over every inch of the feeds, wondering and waiting for that stupid fuck to appear.
"Where is he? What's taking so long?" Cora crosses her arms over her chest and paces in front of the TV, her gaze never leaving it.
I could ask the same question but I don't want her to think I'm as worried as I really am. Maybe Ricardo saw through our plan and decided going to The Manor wasn't actually the best thing he could do. Maybe he got suspicious of the men he's working with and figured they might be plotting against him. What if any number of things happened, preventing him from stepping foot in that place?
But just as the endless what-ifs completely consume me, Ricardo Gardella walks into one of the frames.
"There." I point, a bit too aggressively. "Right there."
Ricardo makes his way over to his so-called friends and traitors of Dominic's, the four of them huddled together, no doubt whispering amongst themselves. It's hard to tell exactly through the small section of the screen he's in. Ricardo talks with his hands, while the other three's body language seems more closed off, skeptical even. Ricardo throws his arms wide, as if gesturing to the building they're in, and waves at someone in the distance.
A hotel worker immediately takes action, stalking toward the group of men. A moment later, he's leading them further into the building, past the construction closing off the first-floor conference area, and toward the elevators.
A construction worker finishes doing something to one of the out-of-service elevators, giving the guys a thumbs up and moving the sign out of the way.
Ricardo slaps the man’s shoulder and stops him to talk, the guy accommodating his request.
Cora remains stiff next to me, her hands clutched to her chest, her breaths short and jagged, mirroring my own.
Silver moves from one feed to the next, trying to get a better vantage point on the action.
A couple walks past Ricardo to use the newly opened elevator but Ricardo cuts them off, shoving himself in front of them to get on first, his comrades following him in with the annoyed couple coming up the rear.
Fuck, that wasn't part of the plan.
I dig my fingers into my arm as I watch the door to the elevator close, the feed only showing part of it on the screen. I start to relax when I'm certain we've succeeded, only to be let down by a hand shoving through the open space and making the door open again. Ricardo steps outside of the elevator, turns to tell the rest of the people something, his finger held up in the air toward them and his cell phone in his hand.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I drag my own phone out, dialing Silver's number immediately.
Staring at the screen, I see the moment it connects on his end, him reaching and sliding it out of his pocket, him putting it to his ear.
"Yes?"
"Abort mission," I tell him. "Abort fucking mission."
He does no such thing, instead, he takes off in the direction of the elevators.
"What's happening?" Cora asks me. "What's he doing? Why isn't he leaving?"
"Silver, get out of there.That's an order," I all but yell into the phone.
But he doesn't listen, or at least he doesn't obey. He lowers his arm to his side and practically slams into Ricardo when he rounds the corner.
Everything else happens in a flash—the camera feeds shaking, the dust cloud, the loud explosion that drowns out the mild chatter that was once filling the feeds. The feeds crackle, not a single one of them left running once the final part of our plan was set in place.
