Chapter Twenty-Five
Trevor’s copilot, Jerry, switched the plane’s comm radio frequency to 125.2 and activated his headset with the push-to-talk. “Regional approach, Gulfstream N152HB, level fifteen thousand.”
A deadpan masculine voice crackled through their headsets all of two seconds later. “Gulfstream N152HB, regional approach, turn left heading two-one-zero, descend and maintain niner thousand.”
Jerry nodded and updated the nav system accordingly. Like Trevor, he always kept his attire casual, leaning to jeans and Ts or button-downs when he flew, but in every other respect they were night and day. Dark hair cropped close to his head, rich Hispanic skin, and clipped mannerisms.
Trevor eased up on the power, eyeballing the altimeter as he snatched the satphone off the cabin wall beside him. The call he placed took all of one and a half rings before his brother answered.
“I see you just handed off to regional approach,” Knox said without preamble. The distant quality of his voice and the muted click of a keyboard in the background indicated he had Trevor on speaker.
Trevor huffed out a short chuckle despite the tension knotting his gut. “Hanging out on the flight radar website again?”
“Hey, it’s fascinating stuff. You never realize how many planes there are until you see ’em mapped out and moving online. What are you, thirty minutes out?”
“More like twenty.” Trevor glanced at Jerry. If he was even remotely worried about how the next hour was going to go down, he didn’t show it. It was one of the main reasons he’d singled Jerry out as copilot the first time he’d flown one of these runs. The other was the huge family he had to support. In exchange for keeping Trevor’s side venture to himself, Jerry walked with thirty percent of the net profits. The rest went to the patient’s family.
“Got any news on any visitors that might be waiting on us when we land?” he said to Knox.
Knox’s hesitation told him all he needed before a word was uttered. “Four suits showed up in two unmarked units at your office about an hour ago. Your secretary checked in with me about fifteen seconds after I clocked them on the monitors. I told her it was probably just a routine check and to be her usual sweet self, but Danny’s stationed in the hangar just in case we need an extra hand on-site.”
“Guess that answers whether Wyatt put two and two together on his own.”
“He’s smart, has deep connections and doesn’t like getting one-upped by people like us. Not much better motive than that.” Knox’s fingers tapped on the keyboard. “You clean?”
“Sparkling.” Hell, the crew that had swarmed his plane last night had left the thing nicer inside and out than it had been the day he bought it. They’d charged him a pretty penny for it, too. “The load Beckett’s handling isn’t so spic and tidy, though. Seems someone came up with the crafty idea of hooking our product up with tracking devices.”
“Admit it,” Knox said. “I’m a genius.”
He absolutely was. With the trackers in place, they’d not only get a bead on their middleman but could follow the product all the way into Wyatt’s office after the sale went down—assuming Wyatt took the bait and went through with a purchase. Given the huge debits Knox had found coming out of Wyatt’s investment accounts around Trevor’s last shipment, he was banking on the narcissistic bastard feeling too sure of himself to say no. “Brother, your dick might need to be stroked on a frequent basis, but your ego absolutely does not.”
The engine’s hum filled the silence, and the prickling weight of what was about to go down hit him in a rush. “If shit goes south, I need you to make sure my staff’s covered. Anything that happens stays on me only.”
Instead of Knox replying, it was Axel’s voice that came through, his voice gruffer and more menacing than normal. “We take care of our own. You know that.” He paused long enough the silence swelled. “We’ll take care of your woman and her boy, too.”
A denial pushed to the tip of his tongue, long years of practice and disbelief making the retort instinctive. He bit it back. “Appreciate it.”
A round of chuckles rumbled in the background mingled with Jace’s deep “Good to see you’re comin’ around.”
“It’s not what you think.” At least not yet, it wasn’t. He’d barely acknowledged where he wanted things to go, let alone tackled sharing with her what being tied to him entailed. The future he wanted with her meant full disclosure. No secrets between them. But if she’d struggled with Wyatt’s shady business practices, the brotherhood’s endeavors might well send her screaming. “She doesn’t know about us. Not gonna claim a woman who can’t back the decisions we make.”
“But you’re leanin’ that way?” Axel said.
Leaning. Hoping. Making plans and imagining a future that thrilled and terrified him. “Yeah.”
“Then she’s protected,” Axel said. “Whatever that looks like. Whatever it takes.”
The headset squawked and the controller running their approach cut through the speakers. “Gulfstream N152HB, turn left heading one three zero. Descend and maintain five thousand. Slow to two-two-zero knots.”
Jerry punched the push-to-talk and answered back, “Left to one three zero, down to five thousand, slowing to two-two-zero knots. Gulfstream N152HB.”
As soon as Jerry killed communications to control, Trevor zeroed back in on his brothers. “Gotta go. Jerry needs an update and I wanna get this shit over with.”
“I hear ya on that,” Jace said. “Get those wheels on the ground, and we’ll rally at Haven tonight.”
Man he hoped that was the case. As delays in getting back to Natalie went, he’d take meeting with his brothers over a night in jail any day. “Roger that.” He cut the connection and hung the satphone back in its cradle.
“I take it we’ve got company?” Jerry’s accent was thicker than what he allowed with the tower or their clients.
For a second, Trevor thought about downplaying what Knox had shared, but nixed the idea. “DEA. Pretty sure they got a tip from a man with an ax to grind where I’m concerned, but the plane’s clean. Unless someone caught us unloading at LaGuardia, they’ll have a hard time making any claims stick. No matter what they ask, you know nothing. You’re clean in this. Hear me?”
Jerry turned his dark eyes to Trevor and dipped his chin in one sharp jerk. “I hear you.”
The next fifteen minutes raced past, the calm, well-practiced routine as they neared the runway keeping the tension in check.
The plane banked, lining up with the runway. Blinding sunshine spotlighted the pale gray concrete and cast an afternoon haze on the horizon. Only in the last few weeks had the landscape relinquished its green luster to the faded browns of deepening winter.
For years, this had been his passion. The power of the engine at takeoff. The drone of the jets and the time to think with nothing but clouds and sky around him. The challenges nature pitted against technology from time to time, and the sense of triumph at each landing. Funny how fast his dream had changed. Two short months and now he’d happily surrender the business he’d built for a life with Natalie.
He pulled back on the power and dropped the landing gear. The back wheels thunked into position a beat before the front snapped into place, and three green lights on the panels confirmed their readiness.
He was right where he needed to be. The certainty came out of nowhere, but it grounded him as sure as Natalie’s touch. He was doing what he’d deemed right. No matter the outcome, he’d live with the repercussions and be proud of the choices he’d made.
Three minutes later, the plane was on the ground. Jerry traded direction with ground control while Trevor taxied the plane toward the hangar. Two Feds were already in place when the plane stopped, one man and one woman, both in suits and loitering next to Tony like they had all the time in the world. Behind them, one unmarked gray sedan was parked at an angle on the tarmac and another ugly brown one was parked just outside the office’s front door, which probably meant poor Susan was stuck entertaining their friends inside.
Jerry climbed out of his seat and stowed his headset. “How you gonna play this, boss?”
“Same way you are. Smile and act like I don’t have a clue what they’re doing here.” He killed the jets and motioned for Jerry to go ahead. “I’ll get the door. Do me a favor and work your customer satisfaction spiel on our guests. See if you can’t buy me a few minutes’ head start before they deplane.”
“You got it.” He popped the latch on the cockpit door and disappeared into the main cabin.
For too many wasted seconds, he stared at the forward door, both fists braced on either side while he centered his thoughts. He forced himself into motion, unlocked the hatch and unfolded the stairs.
The agents waiting for him were about as cliché as they could get, both of them hiding their eyes behind what he’d bet were knockoff aviators. The crisp December air whipped the bottoms of their nearly matching charcoal-colored suit jackets, but otherwise, they stood motionless beside the red carpet.
Next to the two suits, Tony kept both hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy-blue coveralls and shifted from one foot to the other like standing in one place was about to kill him. Not like he had much of a choice though. The Feds had likely warned him about hopping in the plane to do his job before they gave the go-ahead.
“Hey, Tony.” Trevor stopped in front of him. “There a reason our guests don’t have their car waiting?”
Tony swallowed big enough his Adam’s apple bobbed. He glanced at the fancy pair next to him.
“I’m afraid that’s on us,” the woman said before Tony could answer. Her skin hinted of Latino heritage, but nowhere near as dark as Jerry’s, and her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail so tight it looked painful. She offered her hand to Trevor and paired the action with an empty smile. “I’m Special Agent Isabel Fuentes, with the Drug Enforcement Agency. This is my partner, Special Agent Jacob Lineman.”
As if the introduction was a routine they’d done a thousand times before, Jacob whipped his identification from the inside of his jacket and flashed it for Trevor.
“DEA?” Trevor stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, scanned the hangar behind them and the main office in the distance and grinned. “Is that a joke?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Raines.” Jacob peeled his sunglasses off with the same overblown melodrama he’d expect in an action flick. “We received an anonymous tip on Monday indicating your involvement in shipping non-FDA-approved pharmaceuticals and an impending delivery this afternoon.”
A whopping twenty-four hours after he’d shared his overseas gig with Natalie and Levi on the way home from Tahoe Sunday night. Man, but he was tired of that son of a bitch using Levi as the key tool in all his ploys. “Someone said I’m running drugs?”
“Pharmaceuticals,” the woman corrected. “Professionally manufactured drugs not yet endorsed by the FDA. Your flight plans indicate you’re just arriving from London?”
“That’s right. We had a layover in New York City last night for my guests to attend a Broadway show.”
Stern frown in place, Jacob tucked his aviators in his breast pocket. “We’d like to take a look at your cargo before anyone disembarks.”
Feigning surprise, Trevor scratched his jaw, glanced over one shoulder at the plane then back to the dynamic duo. “Got no problem with showing you whatever you want to see, but I’m gonna have a problem if my guests get any kind of harassment. I run a business that caters to wealthy people. The one thing those types don’t like is hassle. Word gets out that it’s anything but smooth sailing with my team, it’ll cost me income.”
Ms. Fuentes pursed her mouth somewhere between a smile and bitter pucker. “We completely understand. Unless we find something suspicious, we’d simply like to ask your guests a few unobtrusive questions to corroborate your flight plans. Outside some interesting charges many years ago, your record is spotless, but we can’t let tips like these go unanswered.”
Trevor waited a beat, pretending to consider her statement, and nodded his head. “You keep it professional, I can go with that.”
Leading the way, he headed up the steep steps and moseyed through the cabin to the tiny group gathering their things. “Ms. Fuentes, Mr. Lineman, I’d like you to meet my guests, former Dallas mayor Quinn Dixon, Dallas Chief of Police Randy Trammel, and their wives, Rayanne and Gloria.”
The agents’ blasé expressions slipped and they shared an uncertain look.
Quinn offered his hand to Ms. Fuentes. “Pleasure to meet you both. I wasn’t aware Trevor had clients booked back-to-back or we’d have wrapped up our goodbyes sooner.”
“We’re not clients, Mr. Dixon. We’re special agents for the Drug Enforcement Agency. We received a tip earlier this week that a shipment of non-FDA-approved pharmaceutical products was being smuggled in on this flight.”
“DEA?” Quinn said. He stared at Trevor. “This some kind of joke?”
He might have had to fake his surprise before, but his laugh this time couldn’t have been more genuine. “That’s what I said. Seems someone thought it would be fun to call in a pre-holiday prank and waste good government dollars.”
Randy let out a long-suffering sigh and cast a commiserating glance at his wife. “More like someone scrambling for a headline.” He frowned and focused on the two agents. “You’re welcome to look at whatever you want, but we’ve seen nothing to support the tip you got. Trevor’s team has been nothing but professional. I’m afraid your office has gotten caught up in some political maneuvering. Our crackdown on drugs since I took office has caused a lot of these kinds of tactics the last three or four months.”
They had? Man, if that was the case, he owed Vivienne big-time for getting these guys as cover for this trip. Having influence on board was one thing. Having it play right into real life was a stroke of un-fucking-believable luck.
Gloria lifted her hand to the hollow of her throat, her aged fingers fluttering as though reliving a harrowing experience. “It’s been awful. Last month I was at an event and reporters started questioning me about our oldest daughter recently being released from drug rehabilitation.”
“A pot-calling-the-kettle-black ploy,” Randy added. “Had to hire a publicist and prove the alleged leak was bogus before the press would leave it alone.” He shook his head and zeroed his attention on the agents. “I hate that the two of you had to come all the way out here for this. Though I gotta admit, whoever’s behind these attempts keeps getting more creative.”
“Please, go right ahead and take a look,” Quinn said, motioning the agents toward the luggage area behind the restrooms at the tail of the plane. “You need to confirm what we’ve said is true, and we’ve certainly got nothing to hide.”
The two agents eyeballed each other for a moment. Ms. Fuentes nodded first and stepped past them. “We’ll just be a minute.” They hustled off without so much as a backward glance.
“Well, that was interesting.” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at Randy. “You really get this kind of hassle a lot?”
“More than you’d imagine.”
“A byproduct of public life,” Quinn added. “Someone always disagrees with your agenda and wants to find a way to bring you down. The scrutiny and challenges are worth it if we do right by the people we serve in the end.”
“Can’t say I’d be as understanding in your shoes,” Trevor said. Especially if they dared to fuck with Natalie in the process. He ducked low enough to check the high chain-link fence beyond the main gate. “How about I have my guys do a sweep of the entrance before everyone gets off the plane? If someone’s out for a story, the least we can do is make it hard for them to get any pictures.”
Randy wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. “We’d appreciate that.”
“I just hope it doesn’t blow back on your business,” Gloria said. “This trip was just what we needed for the holidays. I’d hate to have any negative press cause you problems.”
Tugging his phone out of his back pocket, Trevor gave her what Bonnie had always called his country-boy smile, the same one reserved for conning her out of fresh cookies or talking himself out of a tight spot. “Are you kidding me? If the press mentions I’m carting around a smuggling police chief, I’ll double my bookings next month.” He added a wink for good measure. “You all have a seat and relax. I’ll get Susan to have our guys comb the perimeter for press.”
Striding out of hearing distance, Trevor punched a call through to his office.
Not surprisingly, Susan answered after little more than one ring. Her voice was an unnatural version of its usual chipper tone. “Phoenix Charters, this is Susan. How may I help you?”
Trevor chuckled. “I see we’re entertaining a different class of clientele this afternoon. You entertaining the two that belong in the brown sedan?”
Her strained voice went a few notches higher. “Oh, hello, Mr. Raines. Is everything going okay?”
“Going just fine, darlin’. Just a misunderstanding our fine government officials are putting to bed as fast as they can. Need you to do me a favor though. Get Tony and the rest of the crew rounded up at the office. As soon as the Feds give the go-ahead, I want a thorough sweep of the perimeter. Anyone found loitering outside the gates gets called out.”
“Is something wrong?”
Hardly. More like he’d been handed the mother of all get out of jail free cards and was bound and determined to take advantage, even if it meant sending his crew on a fool’s errand. “Nothing wrong. Just making sure my guests don’t run into any unwanted attention on the way out.”
The female agent’s voice cut from the back of the plane. “Mr. Raines?”
Trevor twisted and found both agents strolling from the back of the plane. “Round ’em up, Susan. I need to finish up something here. I’ll be in the office as soon as I can.” He ended the call and ambled back to the agents. “Find everything you need?”
Ms. Fuentes glanced at her partner and grimaced like her too-tight ponytail was giving her a headache. “It seems the tip we received was unfounded. My partner and I would like to apologize for any inconvenience caused to you or your clients.”
Trevor shrugged. “No skin off my back. Kind of feel bad for you guys getting sent on an errand like this though.” He glanced out the open door. “I had my secretary round up my crew so they can comb the immediate area for any reporters or photographers. You all right if I give her the go-ahead to send them out?”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Lineman said. “The other agents will help us check on the way out as well and can report back if we see anything.”
“Appreciate it.”
The two ducked out the door and hurried down the steps. Whether Ms. Fuentes was pissed she hadn’t had the chance to play with her handcuffs, or was plotting to castrate the person who’d called in the tip was hard to say, but she covered the ground between the plane and their sedan in short order for someone with such short legs.
His guests offered their thanks and said their goodbyes, lingering long enough to make sure they could exit the field without any undue attention. Only when Jerry had finally offered a mock salute and headed to the hangar did Trevor fire up his phone again.
Knox answered quickly, the speakerphone sending white noise through the line behind his voice. “Talk to me.”
Pausing at the top of the Gulfstream’s steps, Trevor watched the last unmarked sedan disappear around the security gate. “Think it’s safe to say, Wyatt made his play.”
“And?” Axel demanded.
A strong gust of wind whipped around the plane, the chill behind it as sharp as Trevor’s focus. “He struck out. Now it’s my turn at bat.”