An hour later, a black Audi with tinted windows arrived at the building. Two men in leather jackets got out and entered the basement.
“Ethan,” one of them shouted.
“I am here,” Ethan replied from the darkness.
“Let’s go. The boss is waiting for you.”
They put Ethan in the car and took him away. Three teams followed them, alternating cars and motorcycles. They could not lose the target.
The Audi stopped near a luxury restaurant, the Monarch on the Gold Coast. They took Ethan through the back entrance to a private office on the second floor.
Behind a large desk sat Nicholas Ortega, a man in his 60s with gray hair and a cold gaze. Beside him, two bodyguards.
“Well, well, Ethan,” Ortega said with irritation. “What a mess you have made.”
“Nicholas, it is not my fault. My wife turned out to be smarter than I thought.”
“Your wife is a minor problem. The problem is that you got caught and that means you are dragging us all down.”
“But I have not said anything. I have been quiet as a tomb.”
“For now, you are quiet. But what will happen when you face life in prison? You will sing like a canary.”
“I will keep quiet. I promise.”