A quick Google search gave him several names, one of which rang a bell right away.
“This, Luxury Delights Inc. That’s the catering company that Exxum mentioned during the fund-raiser. We track the deliveries of exotic fruits for tomorrow, we find the bastard.”
James wasn’t convinced. “What if he has a hankering for something more normal, like an apple or a watermelon?”
“Exxum doesn’t eat normal apples.” They had to be Sekai Ichi ones. Handpicked and perfect and washed in honey. If the bastard ate watermelon, it was the exclusive Densuke variety, with only a hundred units available per year worldwide.
One look at Luxury Delights Inc.’s products and he knew they were on the right path. Gokusen bananas, Ruby Roman grapes the size of ping-pong balls. Queen strawberries. Yubari King melons, which were given “hats” to prevent sunburn. Square watermelons shipped straight from Japan.
“Ten thousand dollars for a freaking pineapple?” Max asked, all but choking.
“They come from England,” Ronnie explained, reading from the screen. “From the Lost Gardens of Heligan. They are grown under straw, manure, and horse urine.”
“Jesus Christ,” Cole mumbled. “Give me a steak any day of the week, please.”
“How are we going to track their deliveries?” James asked. “It can’t be many, with these exorbitant prices, but still.”
“We hack their e-mail or their website,” Cole suggested. “It might take some time but I’m sure Christy can do it. Or we can break into their office after hours. Maybe find one of their regular drivers and get the info out of him.”
Rolling her eyes, Ronnie grabbed the cell and punched in the number on the computer. “Hello, I’m calling from Mr. Exxum’s office. No, no, everything was great with today’s delivery,” she hurried to appease the person in the other end of the line. Bingo. Luxury Delights had delivered to Exxum’s. “I want to confirm the time and address for tomorrow’s delivery. Mr. Exxum has a very tight schedule and I would hate for him to miss…” There was a pause and then Ronnie continued, “nine o’clock, Pricklewood, twenty-five, you say? Yes, all correct. Thank you.” Ronnie terminated the call and then turned to her brother. “There. Problem solved.”
Jack released the breath he was holding and hugged her. “Love you, baby girl. You’re awesome.”
“I know. Go do your thing. Be safe. Bring Elle back,” Ronnie said while he grabbed all the info he had on the old Victorian mansion in Pricklewood and placed it on top of the pile.
“I will.” And God protect the motherfucker if Elle had been harmed in any way, because as long as Jack was alive, there would be nowhere in the world for Exxum to hide.
“This place is a fortress,” Jack heard James mutter as he watched from their vantage point in the forest. The stronghold had already seemed unassailable enough while they were studying the blueprints and satellite surveillance pictures. Now, with a small army guarding it and cameras and motion detectors all over, it looked worse.
It was dark and they were wearing night-vision goggles, the pinpricks of lights indicating human beings sparkling around the perimeter. They could not take the compound with a full frontal attack. He would never make it to Elle on time. Sneaking in using a distraction was a better option.
Jack froze as he recognized one of the boats by the pier. The whole operation has just gotten infinitely more complicated. They would be confronting not only Exxum’s men but the Cali cartel. “That’s Maldonado’s boat.”
And that man coming off it was Joaquín Maldonado, alive and kicking.
Fuck.
“Isn’t that—” James started.
“Maldonado.” Which meant rescuing Elle was more urgent than ever. She was in even more danger than he’d thought. Exxum didn’t need her dead. Maldonado did.
Max and Cole cursed over the earpieces.
“I’m going in with you,” James said through the earpiece.
“No. We stick to the plan.” They were going to fly drones to set off motion detectors while Jack sneaked inside and got Elle out. All the guest rooms in that old Victorian house were upstairs, on the east wing. There was a basement and other bedrooms on the main floor, but Jack knew Exxum; he had an ego the size of Alaska and he considered himself a gentleman. Elle would be in the poshest bedroom, with the best view. “You are my backup. I need you out here when the shit hits the fan. Use flash grenades to cover our escape. And avoid opening fire if it can be helped. Everyone in position?”
“Just for the record,” Cole stated, “we have a Hollywood punk flying drones in the middle of the forest to set off the motion detectors and distract the guards while our best sniper sneaks in to plant explosives and save the girl, and the explosives expert stays behind covering his back with a sniper rifle. Does anyone else see a slight problem with this plan?”
Jack heard James and Max softly chuckling.
“We are about to assault the private property of one of the Forbes richest,” Cole continued. “I hope Max’s grandmother-in-law has a good lawyer.”