ACT II
Cinnamon looked out at the powder puff clouds. She hadn’t expected to be back amongst them so quickly. Jim, seated beside her, seemed tired too. She guessed he’d been up most of the night consulting with Dan.
Dan sat with Willy across the aisle. The quartet completed the passenger manifesto
in first class. She heard Willy asking Dan about
When would Jim settle down? And Barney – he had to start thinking about his family. She stopped herself. She knew this was the start of her internal ‘you’re not getting younger’ story. She stopped the biological clock from ticking before it began. She thought ahead to what she needed to do in less than an hour, immediately after landing. She pulled out the two files again.
She hated not having enough time to properly prepare, time to get into character, to analyze her target. But there was no sense wasting energy now. There was nothing she could change about the circumstances, only to make the most of the cards she’d been dealt.
She opened her ID file - Marie McGuire, divorced, a beautician from
She sighed. Once again her assignment was seduction. Her role was to make a man she’d never met - and hopefully would never see again - want her, make a move for her, and do it publicly. Everything about it was the opposite of how she expected – hoped - her own love life to go.
A sport … she didn’t want to think about it. At least she only had to spend the minimum time with him. And Jim had reassured her that she would never really be alone with him. She was grateful her time with Bonfigliato would be limited – provided she succeeded in getting his attention. She wouldn’t have liked this one under any circumstances, but on little sleep and no notice she felt an unusual sense of dread.
She was glad she had her hair done. It made her feel better and that made her more confident. She’d learned over the years that confidence went a long way in the seduction game. She looked at her nails and smiled as she thought back to her hand on Rollin’s knee, his intent concentration as he polished each nail. He had understood somehow, without words, that she was apprehensive about this mission.
She looked back to the clouds, continuing her musing. She always enjoyed his warm touch. The way he could always make her laugh. That was how it should be and that was what she wanted. He was … but just now it was all much too complicated to contemplate. She’d been here before too, musing about her favorite partner, wondering if he was wondering what she was wondering. She sighed again deeply. ‘In my next life’ – her standard close to tell her daydreaming self to move on.
She could feel the plane descending and looked below the clouds to see the
Dan put his portable air phone back into his briefcase and leaned across the aisle to give his update. “So far so good. Bonfigliato landed on time. He’s in the Admiral’s Club lounge, alone, and drinking. We’ll keep him tied up with some bureaucracy about his passport and get you changed and taken there directly. We’ve already got his luggage. He booked it through to Abaco.”
“The Abacos?” Willy asked, “Part of the outer islands. He’s laying low.”
“We’re getting seats on the flight now. Cinnamon, see if you can get him to tell you which hotel he booked.” Cinnamon nodded. She opened her purse, removed her compact and touched up her make-up. “Okay, Marie,” She told herself silently. “Time to go to work.”
“Bodyguards?” Jim asked.
“No, but two thugs hanging back.” Dan answered.
“Which Abaco flight did he book?”
“The last one to Treasure Cay. I guess he allows time to be sure he finds …
a friend.” Dan looked at his watch, re-setting it to local time
By
The two thugs looked so unlike legitimate business travelers, legitimate anything, she was surprised they managed to get into the first class lounge. As Rollin would say, they were straight out of central casting.
She replenished her lipstick, seeing in the mirror the door opening behind her. The bar hostess, an attractively made-up twenty-something in uniform, moved toward her. “Honey? I was hoping you’d come in here.”
Cinnamon was surprised, “Sorry, have we – “
“Just hear me out. It’s none of my business, but I wish somebody had told me. Listen, he’s good-looking, he flashes the cash, but it’s over in an instant. Not the sex – that goes on and on. He likes to make a lot of noise – talking and throwing things around. With me, he wanted to, you know, do it, on top of the tv set. With my girlfriend, it was the dining room table.”
“You know him?” was all Cinnamon could muster.
“I used to be a stewardess. He picks up women for flings. Mine was in Vegas. It’s over in a few days. You’ll never see him again. Or if you do, he won’t remember you. He might buy you something nice, that way you’ll have a souvenir too. Listen, it’s better you know. I have to get back.” The hostess left as quickly as she entered.
Cinnamon took a deep breath, happy to have a few minutes to collect herself as the additional information sank in. Composed, she returned to her seat next to Bonfigliato at the bar, trying to block images of her apparently vocal escort from her mind.
In the lounge, Jim held a phone to his head, but had not dialed. His back was turned away from the adjacent booth, but his ears were keenly tuned in. He overheard the unlikely business executive’s report.
“It’s
Jim signaled to Willy who had Mr Joseph Bons paged to the ticket counter. Bonfigliato took his hand off Cinnamon’s shoulder, pressing it down the length of her spine to her backside as he stood. “Lemme find out about this sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much.” He leaned down to kiss her.
Cinnamon turned her head to offer only her cheek and smiled, “I’ll try Joey.”
As Bonfigliato approached, the customer services supervisor directed him into the private office. Joey only had time to walk through the transom, meet Rollin eye to eye, sense the door shutting behind him, and sink to the floor as Willy swiftly knocked him out.
The two agents quickly pulled Bonfigliato out of his suit and removed his shirt, his watch, a signet ring embossed RB, and a St Christopher medallion. Rollin traded his own clothes for Bonfigliato’s and looked through the wallet. “The Green Turtle Club and Marina…a villa...for three nights.”
“I’ll tell Jim.” Willy loosely dressed Bonfigliato in Rollin’s slacks and sweater.
Rollin stood up and took a deep breath, “Yeah?”
Willy looked up and nodded. “Joey Bons. Good luck.”
Rollin nodded. “You too,” and opened the door slowly. He made his way across the room to the bar and sat next to Cinnamon. “So Marie - you was saying?”
“Lower pitch and a little more
“What can I getcha, honey?”
She nodded, impressed. “Very nice. I didn’t get the hotel.”
“Got it from his wallet. The ring – Rico’s?” He asked softly.
Cinnamon shook her head, “His uncle’s - Roberto. Did you get the medallion?”
Rollin unbuttoned another button of his shirt to reveal it, “I never thought of myself as a medallion kind of guy.”
Cinnamon laughed, “I never thought of myself as a Marie.”
Rollin reached for her waist pulling her stool closer to his. Gone was her sophisticated suit, in its place a much more suggestive outfit provided by the support team. Rollin found his eye drawn to her long thigh, on good display in her short red skirt and black stilettos. She wore a low cut, sheer black blouse under a skimpy red bolero jacket. Her earrings were huge and obvious fakes. He could see how Joey couldn’t resist her. He knew that Cinnamon would have preferred something less provocative and much more elegant, but he thought she was incredibly sexy, no matter what she wore.
“Another round Honey?”
“Uh huh, you’ll love this.”
“Hey pal! Don’t let my lady friend get thirsty!” Rollin signaled for another round, waving his index finger in a circle. He was not surprised to see the bartender pour Cinnamon a bourbon and water. The barman followed that with a Bailey’s Irish cream.
She caught Rollin’s smirk as he tasted the sweet, creamy drink, knowing he would have preferred almost anything else the bar could offer. She sipped the bourbon slowly, feeling it warm her throat. She was relieved to have Rollin’s arm around her waist instead of Bonfigliato’s. Rollin had warmer hands and a nicer touch. She was happy to be rid of the ‘sportsman.’ She realized this mission would be much harder without Rollin.
Their flight was called and they boarded without incident. Rollin tried not to speak publicly unless he had too. He spent his time in line with his palms cupping Cinnamon’s bottom and his lips against her ears, allowing him to bury his face in her hair anytime anyone came within scrutinizing range. They saw Barney in line ahead of them. Laurel and Hardy – as Rollin had dubbed them – lingered at the end of the line.
Mr Bons and Miss McGuire were seated in the front row of the small plane. For appropriate weight distribution, no one was allocated the seats behind or across the aisle, affording welcome privacy. Cinnamon pressed against him as the plane ascended smoothly. He leaned closer to hear her whisper, “How well do Laurel and Hardy know Joey?”
“Well enough. Apparently he doesn’t know them on sight, but they’d be up to speed on him.”
“Will our room be bugged?” She asked tentatively.
“It’s pretty likely.”
She decided she needed to share what the former stewardess had told her. “I didn’t get a chance to tell anyone, but one of the girls in the lounge followed me into the ladies room.” Rollin’s eyes widened as she continued. “She’d been picked up before by Joey Bons. She told me … he’s very loud…in bed…and on top of various pieces of furniture …and he likes to throw things around.”
Rollin chuckled. “Well, that didn’t turn up in Dan’s file.” He reached for her hand. “You know, it’s kinda too bad – that would’ve been a fun tape to prepare.” He leaned back closing his eyes, tucking her hand under his arm. “Guess we’ll just have to perform it live.”