Chapter 44—Lousy Timing
Saturday, May 15 (still)
Ranger's POV
It took Stephanie twice as long to get ready for our night out because as soon as she started putting clothes on, she looked so sexy in her lingerie I couldn't stand it and took them off her, nibbling and kissing all newly exposed parts.
She laughed, saying it might be quicker if she went commando. That turned me on so much I threw her naked body over my shoulder and dumped her on the bed, with me quickly following. An hour later, I finally let her finish dressing and we left for Atlantic City. I had to move our dinner reservations to 9:00.
It was fun helping Stephanie experience the diversity of Cuban food. She let me order Cuban ensaladas for both of us as long as I included an order of Papas Rellenas (fried stuffed potatoes). For an entrée, she agreed to try Boliche (pot roast with lots of Cuban spices) and Tostones (fried green plantains), while I ordered a Cuban version of shrimp ceviche and Moros (spiced rice and black beans). Of course, we ordered dessert. Caramel flan for me and Tres Leches for Steph, though she ate most of my custard as well as her sweet milk-drenched cake. Stephanie gave little moans all through dinner so I knew she enjoyed her foray into Cuban food, but when dessert came, her moans were non-stop and the young couple next to us started arguing when the man couldn't take his eyes off my Babe. Even I was getting a little irritated with the guy's continual staring and fidgeting.
Steph and I were both looking forward to a night of dancing. The club was busy for a Saturday night, but not too crowded you couldn't find space on the dance floor. I wanted to introduce Stephanie to a little of my Cuban culture so we watched a group of talented dancers demonstrate the slower delicate moves of the traditional Habanera and then the more controlled deportment of the Son. The dancers then pulled some of the audience members, myself included, onto the floor to join them. I enjoyed dancing the Son as it gave me a chance to showcase the politer, more stylized steps and arm movements of our traditional dances. Stephanie said she was impressed that a badass like me could execute such a refined dance. I told her she hadn't seen anything yet.
When the band started playing a Cuban Bolero I couldn't resist holding my Babe tight in my arms for this slower dance where I could lead her through deep dips, bends and slow rolls. It was much more fun dancing these sexy dances with Stephanie rather than one of my sisters or a stranger. We had many stops and starts as Steph got tangled up in her own arms and legs as I twirled her around repeatedly, but we were both having so much fun, it didn't matter. I envisioned many nights dancing together as we perfected our steps.
As the night progressed, we got more relaxed with each other, which was necessary as the dances got wilder. Before I took Steph out on the dance floor again, we watched several of the dancers and I pointed out the basic moves, especially the woman's, so Steph could understand her role in each dance. Most Cuban dances required individual innovations from the woman, as opposed to her just following the lead of the man.
We started with the Tango, a flirtatious chase of back and forth as the woman teases, pushes away and then invites the man to seduce her. Steph was both sexy and hilarious as she tried to imitate the moves of the other female dancers. She'd maintain the intense facial expressions and body stance for a few steps and then break out laughing when she'd stumble through the seduction moves. I couldn't stop smiling and even laughed out loud several times at her antics.
We experimented briefly with the Rumba and Mambo, but they required considerable practice to do well and I could see Stephanie getting frustrated and fearing she'd disappoint me. I reassured her that was not possible. The fact that she was with me, in my arms, was all I wanted from her. It pleased me that Steph was eager to learn these unfamiliar dances and she was surprisingly good even with the more intricate moves.
We quickly moved into the Casino, or Cuban Salsa. The basic salsa is easy to learn and allows for considerable variation, so missteps aren't as noticeable. It is a fun dance with quick turns, swirls, fancy footwork and, of course, the extreme Cuban hip movements. During the Casino, the man had the opportunity to 'shine' or dance solo in an attempt to attract and win the attentions of the woman. It was the height of Cuban machismo. The rest of the dance was pure seduction.
I enjoyed myself thoroughly, posturing and stepping high around my Babe, emphasizing the undulations of my hips as my upper body held its rigid stance. As I danced back and forth in front of Steph, I shot her smoldering hot looks and leered openly at her. The more I got into the dance, the more I realized my emotions weren't an act. I wanted Stephanie and I wanted her to want me just as much. I loved watching her get a little embarrassed and highly aroused as I ran my hands lightly over her body and suddenly crushed her to me. Letting her body slide down my front, I bent her backward and ran my lips from her neck down her décolleté. This was vertical sex at its finest and I was having the time of my life. Stephanie seemed to be enjoying herself as well, letting her body move with the music and my not so subtle leads.
I'd always enjoyed dancing, even as a little boy at family celebrations. The dance was everything. When I became an adult, I experimented with the racier forms of Cuban dance and it took on a new dimension for me. But now, with Stephanie in my arms, I realized why the men in my family loved dancing with their wives. It was an opportunity to flirt, tease and pursue their loves in an overtly erotic way in public and have their women respond in kind. Like extreme foreplay with an audience, something normally forbidden, or taboo. A way to keep things fresh, new and exciting, not that my Babe and I would ever need that, but it certainly added another way to experience each other's sensuality.
During a particularly erotic Salsa number with Steph riding my thigh (her eyes were beginning to glaze as she gave herself over to the music and stimulating sensations), my cell phone vibrated. I ignored it, but it wouldn't let up. Angrily, I looked at the identity of the caller…Tank! Irritated that he breached my offline status, I apologized to Stephanie and stepped outside.
"This'd better be a life and death matter, Tank," I snapped.
"I'm just following your orders, boss," Tank retorted.
"My orders were to 'leave me alone' until I returned," I growled.
"You also have standing orders to 'do anything' to secure a contract with our 'favorite' intelligence agency," Tank countered.
"Report," I snarled, irked at Tank's lousy timing.
Tank explained, "Rodriquez called in with a sighting of Matteo Falcone at the old Bally's Casino in Atlantic City. As you know, Falcone is at the top of Interpol's 'most wanted' list. It'll take us at least two hours to get there, and your cell tracker indicated you're in AC right now. Handing Falcone over would ensure us a firm contract not only with Interpol, but probably with the CIA and FBI as well."
I nearly rolled my eyes at the irony that my own orders were going to ruin my evening with Steph. "Bally's, eh? I'll have to retrieve my gear from the car, but tell Rodriquez I'll be there in ten minutes. It had to be Rodriquez, didn't it?" I shook my head.
Frederick Rodriquez was one of Tank's 'lost puppies,' a scrawny accountant who'd found himself in over his head with some shady businessmen who'd forced him to 'cook' their books and then decided to get rid of him (permanently) when the feds caught on to their illegal dealings.
Tank had saved Rodriquez's life during a gun battle on a federal raid of the business and then hadn't been able to shake him. Tank had insisted we hire him at RangeMan as our CPA.
My problem with him was he didn't fit our image or our policy that our men be able function in a multitude of positions. Rodriquez had no other skills or capabilities than as an accountant. He was ninety pounds soaking wet and was afraid of his own shadow.
"Don't sell him short, Ranger. He's tougher than he looks. Give him a chance," Tank advised.
I disconnected and returned to Steph.
"Babe, looks like our night's gonna be cut short. A VIP fugitive was just sighted at Bally's Casino down the street. Turning him in would guarantee RangeMan a lucrative contract with at least one major intelligence agency. I'm going in without backup and could use your help," I explained.
"Sounds like fun. What can I do?" Steph volunteered. Dios, I loved her sense of adventure.
"If you're up for it, it would help if you'd distract the skip long enough for me to grab him from the back. He is undoubtedly armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. I want you do an 'informal' distraction, meaning you do not make contact with him. Steph, I just want you to redirect his attention, distract him from afar. Try something like…pretending you're drunk, drop your handbag and bend from the waist to pick it up. I hate to ask, Babe, but give him an eyeful," I grimaced.
"Carlos, I'm only wearing a thong tonight!" she cried, looking distressed.
"That's OK, Babe. I'll come up with something else." This was going to be harder than I thought. I didn't know if I could stomach her doing this kind of work anymore. "Stay in the car until the arrest is accomplished."
Steph immediately protested. "No, Carlos. I want to help. I can do this. Don't push me aside. This is no different than any other bounty hunting case. I can handle myself."
I should have known better. Stephanie couldn't stand to be left out. I knew my need to protect her had to be tempered with her need to challenge herself. "Alright, Babe. But please, do exactly what I ask you and do not make direct contact with this man. Just perform the informal distraction. I'll be right behind the guy and you know I'll enjoy the view, Babe." I pulled Steph in close and stroked her back. I didn't want her involved, but since I was alone I needed every advantage. If the takedown took too long or got messy, casino security would intervene and I hoped to get in and out unchecked.
We raced for the car and made our way to Bally's, parking in the underground lot. After strapping on my fully loaded utility belt carefully hidden under my dress jacket, I showed Steph the photo of Matteo Falcone that Tank had sent to my phone. Trying to answer her questions, but not wanting to frighten her I edited the truth from 'the most dangerous Cosa Nostra boss alive today' to 'he's part of the mafia scene.'
I trailed behind Steph as she worked her way around the casino floor. Rodriquez 'bumped' into me and nodded toward a man sitting at the end of the bar. Steph had already spotted our target. I circled around and started my approach behind him.
Steph played her part perfectly. She'd pasted a silly grin on her face and sexily stumbled into several men as she wobbled on her spiked heels toward the bar. Her high-pitched giggles and slurred apologies caught the attention of our man and that was when she spilled the contents of her clutch purse.
Before she could bend over, Falcone rushed over to help her. He was 'old school' and a gentleman, but still looking to score. He scooped up the contents and held them out to her, and then escorted her to the bar. The man was old enough to be her father, but he was putting on the 'Old World' charm trying to convince her to 'help him find his room.' Steph agreed and linked her arm through his as they left the casino floor and made their way to the bank of elevators in the lobby.
Unease shot through me as I watched them walk away. This could go wrong so fast and I had no backup. There were too many unknowns, such as did he have any bodyguards in the casino? As much as I'd wanted Steph to keep her distance from this mob boss, I knew it'd be better to do the takedown away from the casino floor, but…
Rodriquez and I followed them toward the lobby. Rodriquez was a pathetically thin man with no enforcement or military experience. He was an excellent accountant, but I didn't expect any help from him on this job.
As I entered the lobby, I saw Falcone and Steph at the far end. Falcone had his hand at the small of her back guiding her into the elevator, then he let his hand slide down and cup her ass. Before I could react, Steph whirled around and decked Falcone with a roundhouse right. He tripped backward out of the elevator falling on his ass with Stephanie right on his heels, crouching beside him and exclaiming how sorry she was. Leave it to Steph to punch a guy and then apologize to him.
I rushed in to cuff Falcone, trying to reach around Stephanie, but several things happened simultaneously. In a flash, Falcone had a gun trained on me, pulling Steph behind him, obviously protecting her from me. Two of Falcone's men charged out of the casino room drawing their guns when they saw their boss with his gun out.
I was trapped between the three of them and couldn't get to Stephanie, though it was clear she was in no immediate danger.
I raised my hands in submission, and pretended to act dizzy and stumbled toward the two burly men. Bending over as if I was going to vomit, I swung my leg in a rapid arc and cut the legs out from under one of the henchmen, snatching his gun as he went down.
Coming up swiftly under the second man, I disarmed him too and held him in front of me to face Falcone, but both he and Steph were gone.
¡A la chingada! Fuck! My mind was racing…Babe!
Rodriquez had been keeping out of the way at the far end of the lobby. I impatiently motioned him over and handed him one of the guns to hold on the two men. Using flexi-cuffs, I quickly laced their bindings through the pipes running up the lobby wall and instructed Rodriquez to keep them there.
My voice harsh with strain, I spit out, "Where'd they go?" Rodriquez indicated the door at the opposite end of the lobby.
Willing myself to calm down and focus, I flung the door open. There were stairs going up and down. Straining to hear footsteps or a door closing…anything, I heard moans below me.
