Once I load up in the limo, I shoot off a quick message to our pilot to let him know the flight change of plans. I previously told my parents this was a Disney trip to Orlando, and now we need the pilot to take us to Miami. The flight manifesto will need to be altered, but it should buy us some time before the other Heads get wind of what’s going down in Florida.
Pulling straight up to the small jet, Embraer Legacy 500, it was a steal for $20Mil, but it still hits the refined as shit look people of my parents’ caliber expect when conducting business. The cabin is lined with rich tan leather bucket seats, a couple sideways facing sofa, as well as custom wood veneer paneling, small tables, and a wet bar. The floor is covered in shining speckled stonework and fine soft carpeting. The cabin is roomy enough to fit up to twelve people comfortably. I can also appreciate that the jet is tall enough to stand without being hunched over as there is no footwell running along the middle of the jet as some smaller planes have.
Greeted by the bubbly stewardess with a silver tray of champagne flutes, I sidestep her to confer with the pilots. The pilot and copilot confirm our new change of manifesto from Orlando to the private landing strip outside of the Miami International Airport. From there, I have a limo prearranged on standby to drop us all at a fancy-ass trendy hotel on the strip. I can’t bring my girl all the way to Miami and not let her get her feet in the sand. Sure, we have serious business to handle, and shit will get done, but if I have my way, my Blue will get in a bikini before this mini-vacation is through. And with that thought, I pull Ayida onto my lap on one of the jet’s sofas as Ahmya and Ren sit across from us; the rest of the crew spread out in bucket seats around the jet as it taxis down the small runway.
“I’ve got my men staked out around the industrial park side of the port terminal.” I address Blue, Ahmya, and Ren. “They are monitoring any shipment activity, coming in from Puerto Rico, that I’m sure will pass through customs with flying colors thanks to the palms greased from Dick’s dirty money.” I growl, my hands tightening around Ayida’s waist. She leans her head back and rests it on my shoulder before giving my neck a bite, which sends cold shivers down my back and my dick to harden against her ass. Fuck, if this woman isn’t careful, we will be joining ‘The Mile-High Club’ before we even take off.
Sliding off my lap and straightening up beside me, Blue turns her attention to Ahmya.
“So, what’s your price?”
Ahmya steeples her fingers in a power pose, crossing her legs, one of which is shaking a bit. That being the only outward sign that she is a bit nervous about what she is planning on demanding from Blue, from us.
“Whatever you want to do with Richard is your business, and frankly, I hope you fucking fry him, but I want to take credit for rescuing the women and children from the container. I obviously need your manpower to make that happen. And for the record, I don’t have any personal beef with the Asesinos’ gang nor the Saupoudrer syndicate in general, and it will be fine and dandy if they all just fuck off for all I care. But when you get your revenge, and rescue the girl, I need you all to fuck right on off too. That way, when the police, the DEA, ICE, Customs, FBI, news crews, etc. show up, I, as the representative for the southern chapter of the Nakamura Yakuza syndicate, will get the credit.”
“OK.” Blue answers back without a fuss, relaxing back into the sofa.
“OK---- What? I was expecting you to negotiate with me…”
“Why? I can’t knock a woman for unapologetically asking for whatever the hell she wants. Besides, when you helped me out, you said whatever you asked without question I needed to do for you, and this is luckily an easy choice. We want Winnie back; we want Dick dead. Both of those two things we will handle personally. We will obtain the container and turn it over to you. As far as the women and children are concerned, as long as you do right by them, you won’t have any issues with The Sons of Fortune or me either going forward.”
“Agreed.” Ahmya sticks out her tatted-up hand, and Blue, in return, reaches to grasp it in her equally colorful one.
“Deal.” Blue beams for the first time in a long time.
Watching two strong women build each other up instead of tearing each other down. It’s a remarkable thing. Hell, I don’t even know why they need us guys sticking around. These two women seem ready to start their own girl gang or some shit, and certainly have some big ovaries to back it up.
__________
Blue stands up in the jet cabin, gathering everyone’s attention.
“Here's the plan as brief as I can make it…. The driver is going to drop our luggage at the hotel, and then we are all going to split off. Ahmya, Ren, Jiro- y’all hang back at the hotel. If we need you, we will call. Otherwise, primp yourself up for your photos later. Cole, you meet up with your crew at the terminal, get the low down of the surroundings to warn us of any potential complications. If none, meet the rest of the team at the warehouse with your spare guys and arm the fuck up. Holder, Fletcher, Clint, Augustine, Bastien, and I will follow Dante’s instructions to his father’s warehouse. Sorry Dante, but that means you go in first, get us the headcount of your guys and Richard’s soldiers that you can visually see, and then report back to us. I assume the soldiers and gang members will guard the container, and that Winnie will be sectioned off with Dick somewhere. If that’s the case, Holder and I will go off on our own for Winnie and Richard while the rest of you secure the women and children for Ahmya. Don’t be a hero, but don’t take shit from anyone, either. Shoot first, ask questions later.”
We all murmur our agreement with Blue’s plan of action. I signal the stewardess with the in-house phone. She and the copilot come back, dragging a heavy trunk with them, leaving it at my feet before they go back to the front. Creepy smiles pass between Holder and Blue as they remember where I got this trunk from. It was one of the trunks filled with a cache of weapons that Jimmy and Chuck weren’t able to take with them to Hell. With a sense of renewed vigor and hope amongst us all, I start distributing the weapons to everyone in our new motley crew.
Chapter Eighteen: Ayida
Maybe I should have taken Cole up on his offer to join the Mile-High Club earlier on the flight. The way he is still casually caressing my body with his gaze proves he’s still thinking about it too. My heart rate starts to skyrocket when I watch him bite his lower lip, and I swear he growls as I walk past him to offload from the jet before he pulls me back in, pushing me up against the cabin wall and caging me in. A sharp breath is sucked in as he tilts my head up towards him, grazing my jaw with his beard before sucking in my lip with a tease of his teeth, and then his tongue licks the seam of my lips. I groan, opening up to him as he pushes his knee between my legs. The sensual dance of his tongue against mine has me dry humping his thigh for that little bit of friction that could only be described as lascivious.
Then the big lug pushes off me, with a smirk, and descends the jet’s steps, reminding me of our timeline. Damn, cockblocked by my own busy schedule. As much as I’m horny as fuck, per usual, I try to refocus on the task at hand, and I grab my bag and walk towards the waiting limo. Everyone is strapped up; Auggie and Bastien grabbing a duffle each. One of explosive materials, and the other grabbing the wires, timers, and bolt cutters. We look like our own mini militia, and I love it.