Page 92 of Blue Falcon


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I stared at him, wondering what the fuck he was doing here, then turned to Rae with a scowl on my face. “He flew the plane?”

“You know, fly is such a strange word?—”

“In what sense?”

“Don’t worry, Cash. George was with me the whole time,” IKE continued to grin.

“Who the fuck is George?”

“Autopilot.”

I shook my head, trying desperately to hang onto my sanity. This couldn’t be happening. “You flew here with only autopilot for help?” My voice was deadly calm, making everyone else in the room take a step back. “Do you have any idea how much that plane cost?”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I took flying lessons.”

“IKE.”

“Yeah?”

“How the fuck did you get dragged into this?”

He cocked his head at me, that smooth smile making the liar harder to see. “I was on a job. I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“What job?”

“Let’s say—hypothetically—I was following a certain billionaire who was in the news recently for certain dealings with an unsavory character who may or may not have put his company in jeopardy because of?—”

“Yeah, I got it. You were taking out the trash.”

“Hypothetically.”

“And you just happened to run into my guys.”

He shrugged. “They were at the airport. I was at the airport.”

“And I’m guessing you needed a quick getaway.”

He strolled around to a seat and kicked his feet up, making himself at home. “A quick getaway wasn’t the problem.”

“Then what was?”

“The wife. Hypothetically speaking, when you want credible intel on a target, the first place you go is the spouse.”

“And what did you do to obtain that information?”

Rae snorted. “I think that part is pretty clear.”

“So, you hopped on my plane for a free ride.”

“Well, you did need a pilot,” he grinned.

“I had a pilot,” I gritted out.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted him to fly in the state he was in.”

Sighing, I walked back around my desk and sat down. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“What do you mean?”

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