When she arrives at the cafeteria, she scans the unoccupied tables outside before walking to one right in the center. Peering around, she pulls out a chair, hooks her bag over the back, and sits down. Then she interlocks her fingers on top of the metal table and bounces her knee as she waits.
Ulysses’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Target in place.”
I straighten from where I’m leaning with my arms on the rail. “Moving in.”
Reino, who’s drinking coffee at a table on the other side of the courtyard, gives the command. “Keep your positions.”
The shooter speaks. “I have a clear shot.”
Dressed as a gardener, he’s raking up a pile of leaves on the lawn bordering the courtyard.
“Ten meters,” I say.
A jogger with headphones runs past. He’s one of mine.
My hacker hijacked the security cameras. For the moment, we’re using them to monitor the park. As soon as we have Ms. Foster in the van, he’ll wipe them clean.
“I see you.” Ulysses is overseeing the surveillance in the van. “You’re good.”
I lower my head and stop a few paces away. “Keep an eye on the bag.”
One of my men, wearing a long summer coat and driving gloves, goes over to her table.
“There you are,” he says with a broad smile, spreading his arms and embracing her before pulling her to her feet.
Her body goes ramrod stiff, but she’s wise enough not to make a sound. The man pretends to greet her with a welcoming hug while swiftly patting her down for concealed weapons.
“Sit.” Stepping away, he keeps her at arm’s length. “I’ll get you a coffee.” Once she’s plonked back down in her seat, he takes her bag. “I forgot my wallet. You don’t mind, do you?”
She says nothing, her face chalk-white behind those oversized glasses as he goes through her bag. After searching it, he leaves it on the table and heads toward the coffee kiosk.
I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. She knew what she was doing when she schemed with men to hurt my wife.
My man carries a steaming paper cup back to the table. As soon as he’s put it down in front of her, he slips away.
Picking at her cuticles, she stares at the cup but quickly looks up when my shadow falls over the table.
I smile and take a seat, ensuring that I move the chair an inch to the left as I make myself comfortable. The position gives Reino a clear view and the man with the dart gun as well as the snipers a clean shot.
“Naomi.” I cross my ankles and sit back in a casual pose. “I can call you Naomi, right?”
Startled, she asks, “How do you know my name?”
“It wasn’t difficult to find out.”
She must decide that getting out of here as quickly as possible is more important than knowing how I discovered her name—the knowledge won’t change anything—because she squares her shoulders and demands in a strong voice, “Where’s your phone? We’ll do the transaction first.”
I click my tongue. “That’s not fair.” Following the disapproval up with a laugh, I add, “Do you think I’ll give you a penny without any guarantees?”
Her nostrils flare. She’s probably glaring at me from behind the dark lenses of those glasses. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“You neglected to stipulate the terms.”
She makes to stand.
I don’t lay a finger on her to prevent her from leaving. I don’t have to touch her. I don’t even have to raise my voice. My tone is enough. “Sit down. Drink your coffee. You don’t want it to get cold.”
She wants to argue but she’s cornered. She knows it.
