Page 102 of Wicked Intention

Finn nodded. “For the right price, he’d sell them without an auction. Auctions, especially those that are international in scope, take weeks, even months, to set up. The buyers have to be vetted, their finances confirmed. It’s a lot of work.”

“Vetting?” Ramos scoffed. “Señor Torres sells internationally and has already investigated his clients.”

Uncrossing his arms, Finn sat forward. “There will be new buyers. People who haven’t worked with Señor Torres’ organization in the past. These weapons are in high demand, and Señor Silva will be forced to open the auction beyond current customers if he wants to get top dollar.”

“Much easier to sell them locally,” Ramos said, his tone thoughtful. “To a previous client.”

“Sí. For the right price,” Finn repeated.

“You keep saying that, but I already purchased a handful of this weapon. I know what the cost will be.”

“No,” he corrected, “you know what the pricewas, but the small number available when you bought them lowered their value. Now he has enough to bring a much, much higher price per unit and interest from a slew of new players.”

With a frown, Ramos puffed thoughtfully on his cigar. “If they’re sold at auction, the cost could become outrageous.”

Finn nodded. “It could, especially if the Russians or Chinese want to reverse engineer them to create their own version.”

Ramos’ scowl deepened. “What is your plan to ensure I get my weapons?”

“We make an offer that’s close to what they’d bring on the open market. Maybe with a ten or fifteen percent discount. With a number like that, why waste time and resources preparing for an auction?”

More quiet smoking, then, “Do you know how many are available?”

“I have a ballpark figure.” Actually, Finn knew with a fair amount of accuracy how many were missing thanks to the briefing he’d gotten from the captain. To buy the lot would take millions of US dollars, but if the intel he’d gotten on how much Ramos raked in each year was remotely accurate, he could well afford it. The question was, would he be willing to spend that much. “I also have an estimate on what you’d have to pay per unit to get them.”

“Give me the numbers.”

Finn laid out what he believed the price per unit would be, how many Silva likely had to sell, and what the total would be. Ramos froze mid puff, and the moment seemed to stretch for an eternity before he resumed smoking.

“You’ll need to negotiate a better deal than that,” Ramos said at last.

“Then you better be prepared for Señor Silva to tell us to fuck off and take the weapons to auction. We might be able to shave a few hundred thousand off, but I wouldn’t expect the sale to go through for much less than what I told you.”

Ramos’ eyes hardened. “That is unacceptable.”

Great. The drug lord expected an enormous discount, and there was no way Silva was going to agree. “First, theseweapons are worth a lot at auction. Second, Silva and Torres want to make as much money as they can. Third, they don’t have to negotiate with me or you or anyone else as long as demand is high. Fourth, Señor Silva has already expressed a lack of interest in selling you more of this weapon. I have no control over any of these facts.”

Leaning forward, Ramos flicked the ash from the cigar into a silver ashtray. The gesture was angry, but it was also controlled. “Offer twenty-five percent less. That should at least open negotiations.”

Nodding, Finn said, “Sí. I’ll let you know what Señor Silva says.”

“Contact him tomorrow. I do not want these weapons going to auction.” Ramos turned his head. “Vargas!” The man appeared in the doorway almost immediately, telling Finn he’d been close at hand. “Escort Señor Rowland to his rooms and ensure he stays there the entire night.”

Finn got to his feet, but instead of obeying Vargas’ abrupt motion to go to the door, he stopped and looked down at Ramos. “If you want those weapons, Señor Ramos, you better be prepared to pay the full amount we agree on with Señor Silva. I’m not going to be left holding the bag if you decide you want a last-minute discount.”

Before Ramos could erupt, Finn crossed the room and headed toward the staircase.

Zo jerkedawake when she heard the door to the suite open, and she curled her hands into fists. She didn’t relax until she saw the silhouette of a man cross the room to the bathroom. Finn was home. With a soft sigh of relief, she relaxed back into the pillows.

A few minutes later, she heard the shower come on. Turning onto her back, she snuggled the covers up to her chinand waited. It seemed to take forever before he moved the mosquito netting aside, joined her under the blankets, and closed it up again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said softly.

“Sorry I woke you.”

Finn put his arm around her waist, and Zo shifted closer, wrapping her own arm around him and turning to hook her leg over his. He wore nothing except a pair of shorts, and his bare skin was warm against hers. “I sleep lightly when you’re not with me,” she admitted.

“That’s a good thing.” His hug tightened momentarily. “You never know who’ll come in.”

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