“He’s legit,” Malcolm replied. “He’s got vested interests in that part of Africa. He’s attempting to arm the rebels because he wants to control resources there. You’ll find his real name and a dossier on his company in the email I sent to your tablet.”
Excellent. Then Nelson was providing an actual service. He didn’t like the fact that Nelson was demanding fifteen percent, but then this was a big deal. He could afford to be generous. For now. And perhaps Nelson could help him with the Donnelly problem. Something about the man didn’t sit well.
“Set up an account. I’ll write a report and decline Mr. Bates’s donation on the basis that he doesn’t fit the criteria. I’ll bury it. Avery got wind of this one, but in this case, her new fuck toy will prove an adequate distraction. And let Monica know that the next time she allows one of our donors to go through, I will slit her throat in the middle of the night.”
He was still thinking about it. When he had Avery in place, it wouldn’t matter. She would obey him or he would kill her.
“I’ll make sure she knows.” Malcolm said it with a slight smile. He was a man who seemed to enjoy his work. “And I’ll set up the shipment. We have a relief package going out soon. I can have the P90s and the C4 ready in a few days. The surface-to-air will take a little longer. And the land mines are already in stock.”
“Get those surface-to-air missiles or we’re fucked. We need to prove we can get our hands on them. My contact promised me some rich Middle Eastern buyers, but we need the SAMs.” He’d made a name for himself. He’d gotten rich, but the Middle East was fucking Broadway to the arms dealer. If he made it there, he could make it anywhere. And it would provide him with enough money to buy a fucking island and kill anyone he wanted to.
It would put him so far from his disgusting, rat-infested childhood.
“I will.” Malcolm stood. “And I’ll take out Donnelly when the time is right. What do you want me to do about that MI6 agent who keeps sniffing around Avery?”
Thomas smiled. “Well, he’s not going to be a problem, is he? He never climbed into her bed. He’s got a bunch of nothing, and he knows it. Simon Weston is an idiot. He’s a poor little rich boy playing at being James Bond. He’s more dangerous if we snuff him out. We know what he is. He has no idea what’s happening. Leave him be for now.”
Simon Weston was a child trying to play a man’s game. He would die in the end, but not until Thomas didn’t have another option. He didn’t play a bad hand until he was forced to.
He’d sacrificed too much, fought too hard.
And he was so close to becoming King of the Mountain. No MI6 agent was going to hold him back. And he was going to have his queen. No asshole, shitfaced, nothing construction worker was going to keep him from her.
He would make her pay, though.
Malcolm nodded and walked out. Thomas went back to looking at that file and thinking about just how much he’d like to hurt the bastard.
Avery winced as she opened the door and really wished she’d pushed back on the bra thing. She felt like an idiot, but she wasn’t about to walk downstairs to meet her guest, and she couldn’t exactly turn him away. When the concierge had called and told her Simon was downstairs, she’d thought about it, though. But they were too close to the Black and White Ball, and Simon was crucial to the success.
“Hey.”
Her eyes widened as she took in Simon Weston. He was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, but he had his briefcase in hand. God, she really wished she had the bra on. There was no way to hide it. Her boobs were too big. “Hi. What did you need?”
His eyes narrowed marginally. “Are you busy with something? I can come back later.”
She was being so rude. “Of course not. Please come in. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone.”
He walked in, his big body filling her hallway. “Not a problem. I just talked to Monica and the string quartet canceled. She’s in a panic, and her sister is having a baby. I told her I would bring the CDs of the other options over here and have you decide. The ball is your thing after all.”
She sighed. “Thomas wanted me to put it together. I told him that party planning isn’t exactly my thing. I hired a party planner, but Thomas didn’t like the music he chose. I’ve been trying to find one he’ll like. That’s why I’ve been leaning on Monica. She’s into the same kind of music. I really appreciate you bringing them over.”
She took the four CDs out of his hands.
“No problem. I wasn’t doing anything else this afternoon. Just getting ready for the yearly audit. So much fun, you know.”