A few minutes later I hung up with everything I needed to know.
By the time Chudruk and the boys showed up, Ronnie was sitting up and eating. An hour later, she was moving around the room. She made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about what had happened. I could give her that. But once we got on the plane, I would have to know. Which meant I would also have to give her some insight into who Dekker was.
We slept hard that night. And in the morning Sansar-Huu and the others met us with the pickup and all of our gear.
“Thanks, Chudruk.” I hugged my friend and shook hands with Zerleg, Zolbin and Yalta. I would truly miss them.
“It has been good to see you.” Chudruk smiled.
I turned to Zerleg and held out a slip of paper. “The dean at Yale is a good friend of mine. He owes me money. He is expecting your call.”
Zerleg looked at me, then at his uncle. He took the paper with a nod and flung his arms around me.
“You have a full scholarship, if you want it,” I wheezed as the boy crushed me to him. I didn’t tell him that the scholarship was from the Bombay Trust I had established at the Ivy League school. He didn’t really need to know that.
Veronica stared at me, but said nothing. She continued her silence as we made our way to the airport and onto our private jet. It wasn’t until we were seated and I pulled Sartre out that she finally spoke.
“You have a private jet? And how did you get Zerleg into Yale?”
“Ah. She speaks. There must be intelligent life in that body after all.”
Sartre sank her teeth into my finger. Apparently she was on Ronnie’s side.
“Don’t give me that crap, Cy.” She gripped the armrests as the plane taxied down the runway. “When are you going to tell me who you really are?”
I gave her a look. “Who I really am? You mean I still don’t fit neatly into one of your stereotypes?”
“I’m not sure you’re even human!” she shouted. “How is this possible? How does a carney have a private plane at his beck and call?”
I pulled a carrot out of my pocket and gave it to the guinea pig on my lap. She took it as if she were the queen of Sheba and deserved such things.
“My family owns this jet. We are independently wealthy.”
Ronnie sat back and chewed her lip. “I guess that explains how you got into Yale and your connections for Zerleg.”
“Don’t piss me off, Veronica. I got into Yale because of my brains. My family doesn’t believe in undue influence over things like that.” And that was sort of true. Undue influence to get your kid into a good school…no. Undue influence to use the CIA to bail your kid out of a minor skirmish in Botswana…yes. It just depended on how you looked at it.
“Right.” She rolled her eyes.
“You said you don’t know who I really am,” I said calmly. “What did you mean by that?”
Veronica chewed her lip. Something was up.
“Did Dekker say something to you?”
She nodded. “He told me I really didn’t know you. Who you are. What you are.”
Well, that stopped me in my tracks. What did Dekker know about me? I was off the grid. Hell, I didn’t even have a social security number.
“Oh, yes,” I said quietly. “You should definitely take the word of a man who kidnapped you and dumped you unconscious in the worst part of town.”
She threw her hand up into the air. “What is it with you men anyway? How in the hell did I end up in this weird situation? I was perfectly happy in my little apartment at the university. But now I’m on a carney’s private jet after being kidnapped by some Dutch wrestler in Mongolia!”
“That is a lot to think about. Maybe you’re bad at decision making?” I teased.
“The only bad decision I made was to think I had feelings for you, Coney Bombay!”
Now, that hurt.
Chapter Twenty-four
“The illegal, we do immediately. The unconstitutional takes a little longer.”
– HENRY KISSINGER
Luisa, the family’s staff on the Bombay private plane, interrupted us with plates of pastries and cups of tea. She smiled at me, touching me briefly on the shoulder before returning to her suite at the rear of the jet. She’d been with us for years, replacing her mother, Inez, who had worked with us since the 1950s. Luisa was petite and gorgeous, with a knockout grin and a sharp mind. She was only twenty-five, and most of my cousins had hit on her from time to time-with no success whatsoever. I never did. Maybe that was why she always flirted with me.
“And who was that?” Veronica asked, her voice a bit strained.
“That is Luisa,” I answered, sipping my tea. It was Darjeeling. My favorite.
“She’s a bit forward, isn’t she?” The jealousy she was trying so hard not to show was adorable.
“She likes me.” Why should I tell Veronica that Luisa and I were just associates? She wasn’t giving me anything on Dekker.
“Is she one of your carney groupies?” The words had a sharp edge to them.
“No.”
Veronica crossed her arms over her chest and fumed in silence for a moment. I took the opportunity to eat and drink.
The silence was tense, but I needed it to figure a few things out. First of all, what was I going to do with Ronnie? She would have to go home so I could continue to pursue Dekker. Maybe she’d take Sartre with her. That would give me an excuse to look her up when this assignment was over.
And what did Dekker mean when he said he knew who I was? I was a carney, a drifter, totally forgettable to most people. What could he know? The Bombay family of assassins had been a closely guarded secret since 2000 BCE. There was no way any vic could know about us.
Then again, a man like Dekker had many, many enemies. It made sense that he would guess there was a contract out on him, even if he didn’t necessarily know exactly who was targeting him.
Because of his contact with Veronica, he knew my name. He knew I was a Bombay. A chill slid down my spine. He could get to my family. That was bad. Very bad. I pulled out my cell phone and texted Monty. Within minutes he replied with an expletive I was pretty sure his mother didn’t let him use.
“Isn’t it dangerous to use a cell phone on a plane?” Veronica asked.
“No,” I answered, slipping the phone into my pocket.
“Aren’t you interfering with the plane’s guidance system or something?”
“No. It has nothing to do with that.”
“Why not?”
I turned to look at her. “The real reason they don’t want you to use cells on a plane is because you might crash the cell phone service by taking up too much of the power from towers on the land.”
She smirked. “And yours won’t?”
“No. Mine is special.”
Sartre squeaked and lunged off my lap toward Veronica. Ronnie responded by taking the little pig into her arms. Traitor.
“When we get to London, I’m getting off. The pilot will take you to your nearest airport. Will you take Sartre with you?”
She frowned. “You want me to go home? What are you going to do in London?”
“Take care of some business. I’ll pick up Sartre when I’m done.”
Ronnie shook her head. “No. I’m going with you.”
“What? No. You aren’t.” I hadn’t anticipated this reaction. I thought she’d just want to get as far away as possible. At least from me.
“You are going after Arje, aren’t you?”
“That’s between me and him, Veronica.”
She snorted. “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t involved at all.”
I thought about this. She was right. But I didn’t want her to get hurt again. And I needed time to sort out my feelings…without her around.
“I’m not going home, Cy,” she said firmly. “That’s the deal.”
“This isn’t your fight,” I replied. “He hurt you to get to me.”