It was already after nine p.m., which meant Gatti had a six-hour head start to Thailand. His flight had a brief connection in Hong Kong before continuing on to Chiang Mai, a stop that would enable Damian to make up a little of the time between his and Gatti’s flights. With any luck, Damian would only be four or five hours behind him.
He still didn’t know where he was going once he landed, but Cole had every intelligence resource they had tailing Gatti’s movements when he landed. They’d opted to approach the Thai organization as a sign of respect, offering them payment for information on Gatti’s whereabouts and the promise of a swift retreat once they got him.
It was a gamble. If the Thai really were already working with Gatti, they might sell out Damian’s plans to come after him. They also might take the money and kill Damian for fun.
Damian was banking on option three — that they would take the money, let Damian conduct his business, and allow him to leave.
He spent a few minutes throwing the things he’d just purchased into the duffel. Then he thew it into the backseat and headed for the Westchester airport. Cole had called ahead to make sure one of the company jets would be ready and waiting when he got there.
He thought about Aria as he drove, her sleepy face in the hospital, the tears that had filled her eyes when he’d given her the new Mr. Wolf.
He wanted to give her everything. To restore all her childhood hope and innocence and to give it all to their child, too.
For the first time in his life, he was afraid of death. Not for the pain or loss of his life, but for what it would do to Aria.
He didn’t want her to have to raise their child alone. Didn’t want her to be alone in the world.
It wasn’t about money — he’d seen to it that Aria and their baby would always have plenty of that.
He wanted to be there to hold her at night, to wipe her tears when they came, to stand in front of her when the world got too harsh or dangerous.
He wanted to rock their baby when it cried, to watch it take its first steps and say its first words, to be the father he’d never had.
He wasn’t a fool. He knew the risks. He was breaching enemy territory with no guarantee of safe harbor, and he was doing it with no backup.
But he didn’t have a choice. Aria wouldn’t rest easy until Gatti was dead, and neither would Damian. Not after what had happened at the Westchester house.
It was now or never.
He forced Aria out of his mind as he drove through the charter terminal gate and onto the tarmac. He couldn’t afford to think about her right now. She only reminded him of his mortality.
Of how much was at stake.
Neither of them could afford for him to be distracted.
He pulled the car next to a black Humvee idling not far from the company plane. Enzo sat in the driver’s seat, Andre leaning against the passenger side door, arms folded across his chest.
Damian grabbed the duffel and stepped out of the car.
“Park it at the office, will you?” he asked, throwing Andre the keys.
“Will do.”
“Are you both all right?” Damian asked, bending down to get a look at Enzo.
“We’re fine,” Andre said. “Enzo didn’t get the door shut behind him, caught a small laceration from some of the falling debris, but he’ll live.”
“Good.” Damian held out his hand. “You saved her life. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”
Andre shook his hand. “It’s what you pay us for, boss.”
“Maybe,” Damian said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful. When I get back, we’ll talk about your compensation. Enzo’s, too.”
“Thank you,” Andre said.
Damian was on his way to the waiting plane when Andre called after him.
“Is she okay?”
Damian turned around. “She will be.”
“Good.”
Damian didn’t think he was imagining the relief on Andre’s face.
He continued to the plane and made his way up the steps. He would keep Enzo and Andre on personal detail for Aria. He would increase their salaries, give them a bonus. They obviously liked her, and that could only help should she ever be in danger again.
He stepped onto the plane where Paul, the pilot, was waiting, his mouth turned down in a frown.
“Paul.” Damian shook his hand. “Everything okay?”
Paul’s eyes flickered to a point over Damian’s shoulder.
Damian followed his gaze, his gut already knotting in anticipation of yet another problem.
But this time, the problem wasn’t at all what — or rather, who — he expected.
Aria sat in one of the seats, calmly flipping the pages of a magazine, a steaming mug sitting next to her.
It was impossible not to be happy to see her under any circumstance, but this time anger was a close second.
He moved past Paul and into the cabin. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She looked up. “I’m waiting to take off so we can go to Thailand.”
“The fuck you are,” he roared.
She blinked placidly. “Go ahead and be angry. Get it out of your system so poor Paul can close the door and get ready for takeoff.”
Damian glanced back, but Paul had wisely chosen to take his place in the cockpit.
“Don’t be mad at him,” she said. “I insisted. What was he supposed to do?”
He thought about Andre and Enzo on the tarmac, rethinking their salary increases.
“Don’t be mad at Andre or Enzo either,” she said, as if reading his mind. “I got here before they did. They don’t even know I’m on the plane.”
“Good,” Damian said, “because you’re not going to be on the plane much longer.”
She sighed. “I am, Damian. I’m going with you. If you need to be angry to accept it, so be it. But this is the end of a road we started together. I’m not going to stay in New York while you finish it.”
“Then I’ll have Paul drop you off in L.A.,” Damian said. “You can stay with Nora.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“No?” It was such a simple word, and yet he couldn’t remember the last time someone had said it to him.
“I’m not going to L.A. I’m going with you to Chiang Mai.” She said the words slowly, like he was a child.
“You’re supposed to be in the fucking hospital, Aria.”
He wanted to pace, but the confines of the cabin forced him to contain the frustration building inside him like a volcano.
“I don’t need to be in the hospital,” she said. “I’m fine. My blood pressure was already coming down when I left. Besides, I only agreed to stay there for you.”
“For me?”
She nodded. “You seemed stressed and worried. I wanted to give you time to get us settled at Nico’s apartment, but that was before I knew you were planning to leave without me.”
“I didn’t know about Thailand until a couple hours ago,” he said, wondering how she’d gotten him from cold fury to explaining himself.
She smiled. “That’s okay. We’re both here now.”
“Not for long,” he growled. “I’ve had enough of this. Now get up.”
She sighed, then stood to face him, her dark eyes flashing. “I’m not leaving, Damian. You might as well just accept the fact so we can get on with it. This is my fight, too. I’m coming to Thailand to see it through. We can discuss the details when we get there.”
“You’re being foolish,” he snapped. “Risking not only your life, but the life of the baby, too.”
She set her jaw into a hard line. “That’s a shitty thing to say. You know I would never do that. I asked the doctor, and she said as long as my blood pressure remains in the normal range — and it was already back in that range when I left — there was no reason why I couldn’t travel.”
He covered his mouth with his hands, like it might keep him from saying things he knew he would regret later. She was rig
ht. Even Aria — as stubborn as she was — wouldn’t risk their baby’s life.
“You’re putting me in an impossible position,” he said. “You know that, right?”
She reached up to touch his face. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that, but this is one of those times where we have to have the argument.”
“I don’t even have a place for you to stay there,” he said. Maybe logistics would convince her if reason wouldn’t. “I was planning on getting in and out.”
She returned to her seat. “That’s okay. Locke said we can stay at his place outside the city.”
“At… at his place?”
Damian was vaguely aware he was sputtering, a word he would never have used to describe his speech up until now.
She nodded. “Apparently he loves Thailand — Bali, too. He gave me the address and the code to the door. He said he’d call ahead and have the house ready for us.”
Damian was still standing there, trying to wrap his head around how Aria had found out about Thailand, how she’d gotten from the hospital to the airport, how she’d managed to make arrangements for their fucking lodging, in the three hours since he’d left her asleep at the hospital.
She smiled up at him. “You should probably sit down. I think Paul’s ready to take off.”
He hadn’t noticed the steady increase in the volume of the plane’s engines, the fact that Paul was standing expectantly by the door, preparing to shut it.
“Are you ready for takeoff, Mr. Cavallo?” he asked.
Damian sighed and sat in the seat across the aisle from Aria.
He waved a hand in the direction of the door. “Do it.”
He sounded defeated, even to his own ears. He was on his way to Thailand where he would have to face one of the most violent criminal gangs in the world before killing his last remaining enemy.
And he’d been defeated by Aria and her stubborn persistence.
Paul closed the door and re-entered the cockpit.
Aria reached for his hand and touched it to her lips. “There’s a nice woman in the back who got me some herbal tea. Once we’re in the air, maybe she can get you some, too.”
Thirty-Five
Aria forced herself not to yawn as she made tea in the kitchen of the house outside Chiang Mai. She’d wanted to come — had insisted on coming. She wasn’t going to suffer any “I told you so” glances from Damian or give him any reason to worry more about her than he already was.
They’d passed the first part of the flight in silence, and she’d moved to the sleeping cabin when they’d been somewhere over the Midwest. It was obvious Damian was angry. She couldn’t really blame him, but she figured he deserved some time alone to stew.
The hum of the pane’s engines had lulled her into a deep sleep. When she’d woken up, they’d been less than an hour from Chiang Mai and Damian was at least speaking to her again.
Locke had sent one of his trusted Thai drivers to pick them up at the airport and take them to the luxurious home he owned outside of the city.
Set in the hills and surrounded by trees, the house was shaped like a “U”, both sides holding a series of simply but beautifully appointed bedrooms. The center of the “U” consisted of an open kitchen and living room with glass doors that opened onto a courtyard with a small pool surrounded by lush foliage and towering palms.
She’d found the fridge stocked with fresh fish and an assortment of fruit that boggled her mind, plus juices and bottled water. Locke wasn’t kidding when he’d promised to have the house ready for their arrival.
It was the perfect retreat, sheltered from the world by high stone walls, the traffic of Chiang Mai completely inaudible.
Damian had insisted on checking the grounds when they’d arrived, and she looked up as he re-entered the house.
“Everything okay?” she asked, pushing a cup of tea at him.
He nodded. “It’s pretty secluded.”
She looked around. “It’s beautiful. I wish we had more time to enjoy it.”
He nodded, his face grave. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.
She set down her tea and came around the counter, slid her arms around his waist.
“I know,” she said, looking up into his eyes.
“You know what?”
“I know I can’t go with you, wherever you’re going next.”
“You do?”
She nodded, remembering Nora’s words in Greece.
Sometimes I push to get my way, sometimes he pushes back. We always work it out.
Aria had pushed to come to Greece, maybe too hard. She’d seen it in the frustration on Damian’s face, the fear he tried to hide from her.
It had been risky, a move that might have sent him over the edge, and she’d half expected him to carry her kicking and screaming off the plane.
He hadn’t though. He’d met her halfway by letting her stay. Their life together would only work if she did her part, too.
“I just need to be here, Damian. I need to be close, to be the first person you see when it’s done. I know it would be too risky to the baby to go any further.”
“So you’re… going to stay here? At the house?” he asked.
She smiled. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m stubborn — not stupid.”
He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I’ve never thought you were stupid.”
“I know you’ve just been protecting me, and even though I sometimes fight it, I want you to know I appreciate it. I want to prove to you that I’m willing to compromise, too. Maybe then we won’t have to fight so hard about everything next time.”
“Jesus,” he said, “Please tell me there won’t be a next time.”
She laughed a little. “I hope not, but let’s not fool ourselves.”
He nodded slowly.
They both knew that theirs was a dangerous business.
She realized with a start that that’s how she’d come to see it — as theirs.
Somewhere along the way, she’d started to see herself as a partner in the enterprise. Maybe it had something to do with Damian and the way he conducted himself, with the honor he always displayed. Or maybe it had to do with the Syndicate men and their wives and their surprising integrity.
She didn’t know, but she no longer felt the need to hold herself apart from the business. To pretend she wasn’t part of it.
She loved Damian. They were going to have a child.
She couldn’t stand by him if she was ashamed of the way they made their money.
“I would have brought Cole if I’d known you were coming,” Damian said.
She shook her head. Damian was already working the next problem.
“Leave me a gun,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
He scowled. “I’ll see if Sarut will stay.”
Sarut was Locke’s driver. Aria didn’t know him, but Locke had trusted him to pick them up at the airport, to drive them to the house nestled in the hills.
It was good enough for her.
“If it will make you feel better,” she said.
“It will.”
She stood on her toes to kiss him. “What’s next?”
“Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’m going to call Cole, see if he came up with any details on Gatti’s movements while we were in the air. Then we’ll see.”
She nodded and lay her head on his chest, trying not to hear a bad omen in his words.
Then we’ll see.
Thirty-Six
They’d finished eating the grilled tuna, mango salsa, and rice Aria had prepared for dinner when Damian’s phone rang. He looked at the display as he carried their plates into the kitchen.
“It’s Cole,” he said to Aria.
She took the plates and he stepped out into the courtyard, the pool glimmering in a darkness lit only by the lights subtly planted in the fragrant bushes.
“Tell me you have something,” he said into the phone.
“I have something,” Cole said.
He’d called Cole from the plane to tell him about Aria. Cole had still been patrolling outside the hospital and Damian had the feeling Aria had not won any points with his underboss by sneaking out the emergency room entrance before the two extra guards had arrived.
Damian didn’t blame Cole for Aria’s escape— he knew more than anyone how crafty Aria could be — but it was still a wound to Cole’s pride.
The last time they’d talked, Cole had still been running down leads. Damian had hung up the phone hoping they got a break soon. Hanging out indefinitely in Chiang Mai wasn’t the plan — nor was blindly searching the streets, a move that would in all likelihood get him killed before he ever laid eyes on Gatti.
“Talk to me,” Damian said.
“He’s in the city,” Cole said. “Landed right on time. I had one of our guys with ties to the area reach out to the organization there. Rumor has it, Gatti’s been making overtures.”
“Overtures?”
“Making calls, offering up information on New York and the Greeks in exchange for a buy-in to the organization,” Cole said.
Damian almost laughed. “He’s trying to buy his way into the Thai Mob?”
“Yeah, and word is Kirt Juntasa isn’t exactly thrilled,” Cole said.
Kirt Juntasa was head of the Thai organization. Damian had never met him, but his reputation preceded him — according to everyone who was in a position to know, Juntasa was more than dangerous, he was sadistic.
Creatively sadistic.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Damian said. “Is Gatti really dumb enough not to realize that kind of move will be seen as disrespectful?”
Malcolm Gatti was a lot of things — a lot of grotesque things — but Damian had never taken him for stupid.
“He’s not dumb — he’s desperate,” Cole said. “This is the only play he has.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t make a move for Anastos’ territory,” Damian said.
“I think he knows the Syndicate will be coming for that too,” Cole said. “Besides, Anastos probably had at least five guys vying for the turf already.”
He had a point. Damian would never say never with the Syndicate — they might come for Thailand eventually, but only after they’d achieved domination in the more obvious markets. Thailand was as safe a place as any for Gatti to seek refuge — if he didn’t get himself killed first.
Through the Fire (New York Syndicate Book 3) Page 14
