Blood Money

by Matt Rogers

  She’d seen its construction unfolding when she was in New York only two months ago.

  A prestigious piece of the Manhattan skyline, a quarter of which would belong to a warlord who slaughtered kids for profit.

  She seethed harder.

  But she kept her demeanour just as nonchalant and ignorant as Wayne’s.

  She said, ‘Okay. Once again — what do you need me to do?’

  ‘Keep him happy,’ Wayne said. ‘That’s all. But it’ll be good to know you’re on my side, and that you understand the stakes.’

  She shrugged. ‘I know how to keep him happy. It won’t be a problem.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I want you to triple it. Not double.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Not a second of hesitation.

  She hadn’t been expecting it.

  She took a moment to respond.

  Before she could, he said, ‘I’m not going a cent higher. Don’t think I’m a pushover because of how quickly I agreed. That was a calculated decision.’

  ‘I won’t push it. I’m happy with that.’

  ‘Then let’s go make some money.’

  Ruby stood up first, and sauntered straight past Wayne. Large and Small didn’t visibly react. Their presence didn’t even seem to be necessary. A mutually beneficial agreement had been reached. There was no tension anymore.

  Ruby used it.

  She slipped around behind Wayne and pressed down on both his shoulders with flat palms. He didn’t react — not even the slightest twitch.

  She bent down and whispered in his ear, ‘When this is all over, let’s celebrate.’

  He couldn’t mask a grin. It slipped out unintentionally, the manifestation of his success, his prowess.

  Get the money, get the girl.

  An age old dynamic.

  She could see him enjoying himself.

  Then he wiped the smirk clean, and said, ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  She took her hands off and spun to Large and Small.

  ‘Anything else?’ she asked.

  They stepped aside to let her pass.

  17

  She could have killed all three of them.

  Right there.

  Without much effort.

  As she sauntered past, Large dropped his guard. Maybe because he was bigger, and therefore usually intimidated with his presence alone. Small had a touch more awareness, and kept his eyes on her at all times, but Large looked at Wayne as she breezed past him. There was a Glock 17 in a faded leather holster at his hip, only inches from her hand, and she could have had the gun free in half a second, shot him through the side of the head in the next half-second, spun and killed Small before he could draw his own weapon, and then blasted Wayne’s face to pieces with a third shot.

  But she didn’t.

  She needed something more.

  She needed to know Aaron Wayne wasn’t oblivious.

  He was rich, and he was ruthless, and he was uncompromising, but many of the wealthy were. She liked to think she had a semblance of a moral compass left in her heart, a tiny piece of her psychological makeup that hadn’t been stripped away by the Lynx program.

  There was a chance — albeit a small one — that Zafir had simply deceived the tycoon. The man might have pretended he was a sheik with oil money — which, to be fair, wasn’t too many rungs above a warlord — but Wayne didn’t deserve to die for being deceived like that.

  If there was even the slightest chance…

  She had to know for sure.

  So she waited.

  Looked down at the Glock, but didn’t make a move for it.

  Drifted on past and went upstairs, leaving the trio to talk in private. She was sure they had much to discuss. She came out on the top deck and saw Zafir dozing in the same armchair, only half-aware of his surroundings, flanked by his three scrawny beady-eyed bodyguards. The sun had fully risen by now, and most of the women were sprawled across sunbathing lounges in their bikinis, soaking up the weather.

  Ruby deemed it prudent not to disturb Zafir. She started in the direction of the bar, intent on downing another espresso, but she only made it halfway there when she sensed movement at the top of the stairs. She turned and saw Large and Small standing there, surveying the scene.

  Zafir stirred, and looked up at them.

  Large stepped forward and said, ‘Sir, Mr. Wayne would like to speak with you in private downstairs. He wishes for you to bring your translator.’

  Zafir processed this.

  Blinked hard to wake himself up.

  Then gestured to his entire cohort of guards and said, ‘They all come.’

  ‘Sir,’ Large said. ‘As you can see, myself and my colleague are staying up here. It’d be polite if—’

  ‘No,’ Zafir grunted, levering to his feet. ‘They all come. Or nobody go.’

  Large backed down immediately. He stepped aside and gestured for the party of four to make their way downstairs in their own time.

  Through that gesture alone, Ruby sensed the stakes.

  A fearsome ex-spec-ops brute, quaking in his boots at the prospect of fucking up the deal.

  Zafir thundered past, and his entourage followed. They disappeared from sight. Large and Small exchanged a glance, and then looked at Ruby.

  She shrugged. ‘Don’t make it seem like I could have done anything about that.’

  ‘You’re getting paid to at least try.’

  She shook her head. ‘He’d made his mind up. If any of us pushed, he would have pushed back. And that’s no good for anyone’s pockets.’

  He hadn’t been expecting a competent retort.

  He wasn’t the one with the business smarts.

  He just shrugged.

  ‘What now?’ Small said to his companion.

  Large said, ‘We wait.’

  Yes, Ruby thought.

  Yes we do.

  18

  With her precious target below deck, Ruby seemed to relax.

  She ordered and finished her second espresso, then loitered by the bar. Behind the familiar Hispanic barista, she noticed several lobsters laid out on the disinfected benchtop. They were glistening in the sunlight. The freshest and tastiest in Monaco, no doubt. Wayne would spare no expense. There was no point cutting costs with two hundred million dollars on the table.

  She said, ‘What are they for?’

  The barista turned around to notice the target of her gaze.

  ‘Lunch,’ he said. ‘I’m slow cooking them for five hours. It’s one of Mr. Wayne’s favourite dishes.’

  She nodded, and flashed him a flirtatious smile. ‘If you need any help with that, just ask.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to do that.’

  She swivelled on the stool, making sure Large and Small had seen the interaction.

  They had.

  They were watching her closely.

  Good.

  She got off the stool and drifted to the sundeck by the bow. Nadia was there, stretched out on a lounger, her caramel skin glowing. Thick sunglasses masked her eyes, but Ruby knew she was watching. Ruby planted herself in the adjacent lounger and upturned her face to the warmth of the sun.

  Nadia said, ‘What did Aaron want to talk about?’

  Ruby said, ‘That’s none of your business.’

  It didn’t matter what anyone on the top deck thought of her.

  Not anymore.

  Things had changed.

  Nadia sat up. ‘Are you trying to take my place?’

  Ruby didn’t respond.

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘I heard.’

  ‘What’s the answer?’

  ‘What place would that be?’ Ruby said.

  Nadia’s mouth became a hard line.

  Ruby said, ‘Say it.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘The hanger-on? Is that what you mean? Following his every step?’

  She stared into Ruby’s soul.

  Ruby didn’t notice.

  She
was still facing the sky.

  Nadia stood up and stormed away, adding a sharp exhale of breath to the tantrum. Letting everyone within earshot know she was displeased.

  Ruby didn’t care.

  She needed to be alone for at least the next twenty minutes. Every word she’d uttered was a barb, a carefully placed dagger, doing exactly what she’d intended all along.

  Now she stretched out wider on the lounge, and didn’t move.

  A bystander might have figured she was on a call, listening intently to whoever was at the other end of the line. But there was no phone pressed to her ear. No sound at all, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. She watched the clouds, but didn’t close her eyes. Didn’t give in to the urge to doze off under the sun. Kept her posture relaxed, but under the surface she was rigid, focused, zoned in.

  On what?

  She knew suspicions would arise. She wasn’t like the other girls. She had a purpose aboard, and an extra two hundred thousand dollars hanging in the air, all riding on Zafir’s final decision. It wouldn’t make sense to Wayne’s bodyguards for her to spread out on the lounge so lackadaisically.

  Sure enough, twenty-two minutes into her private retreat, a shadow fell over her.

  A big silhouette, blocking out the sun.

  She flicked her gaze over.

  Large was there, looming above the lounger.

  He said, ‘I think you should start planning an approach for when he returns. We need you to make him happy.’

  Silence.

  Ruby looked away, narrowing her eyes against the glare of the cloudless sky.

  She squinted.

  Concentrating.

  Large said, ‘Hey.’

  She kept her mouth shut.

  She needed a few more seconds.

  Only a few.

  She concentrated harder.

  Large opened his mouth to demand attention, but Ruby reached down to her stomach and contorted her face into a wince. It made him hesitate, kept him quiet for just long enough to—

  Her eyes lit up.

  There.

  That’s it.

  She sat up with such ferocity that it made him take a back-step.

  Large said, ‘What the hell is your—?’

  She peeled herself off the lounger and got to her feet, then stepped into his personal space. She knew he didn’t mind. He was a man, after all.

  Then she moved even closer and said, ‘Sorry, love. I was out of it. What were you saying?’

  He stared into her eyes.

  She knew he was the weaker of the pair.

  The more volatile.

  He said, ‘Just make sure you’re ready when he comes back upstairs.’

  She looked deep into his eyes. ‘I will, darling. Was there any other reason you came over here?’

  ‘No.’

  She widened her eyes. ‘You sure?’

  He shifted on the balls of his feet, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I’m on the clock.’

  ‘What a shame.’

  She saw the vein in his neck pulsing a little faster. His heart rate unintentionally elevating. Maybe he was picturing her on all fours…

  Under the surface, she had no emotion. In this state, she didn’t register anything. No happiness, no lust, no overthinking, no discomfort. There was a quiet icy calmness, keeping her detached from everything that made her human. Every tiny movement was intentional. Nothing was wasted.

  But Large didn’t know.

  No one knew.

  She walked past him, aware that he wouldn’t follow immediately. She’d bought herself a few seconds. He’d have to bring himself back under control, settling his excitement. There was no place for it in a business environment. He might be scolding himself for allowing himself to be influenced at all.

  She didn’t care.

  As long as it threw him out of his rhythm.

  She went straight for the bar, and slipped behind the countertop. The Hispanic guy was there, chopping up the lobster with the finesse of a culinary wizard. He was focused on the task at hand, and didn’t notice her there until she was right beside him.

  She rested a hand on the small of his back. ‘You sure you don’t want help?’

  He glanced over, but he didn’t outwardly react to her invasion of his workspace.

  She’d set it up before, after all.

  He just grinned. ‘My boss might not like that.’

  ‘You’d like it, though.’

  He shrugged.

  Then Large came bounding over, as she knew he would. He’d realised that she’d taken control. Asserted herself in a way that allowed her to go anywhere, do anything, be with anyone. He couldn’t allow that. There was an underlying power dynamic at play. He couldn’t let it slip out of his fingers.

  He came all the way to the bar and then walked behind it, rushing to re-establish his dominance.

  Getting too close.

  Way too close.

  Entering the kill zone.

  Ruby leant into the Hispanic guy and lowered her voice. ‘Close your eyes.’

  ‘What?’

  She plucked the stainless steel kitchen knife from his hand.

  19

  She moved so fast that he didn’t have time to resist.

  The knife was a thing of beauty — a wooden decorative handle, a swirling ripple effect along the steel blade, a razor-sharp tip. Aaron Wayne, sparing no expense. Now it’d cost him.

  She spun and shoved the blade all the way up to the hilt through the underside of Large’s chin.

  It met resistance on the way to his brain, but not enough.

  His eyes turned to glass.

  Before his corpse began to fall she had her hands at his waist, and slipped the Glock 17 free with practiced ease. She spun again and vaulted over the stone countertop. She met no resistance — her dress was smooth, and the surface was polished. She came down on the other side without losing an ounce of balance, and aimed the Glock at Small’s face before he could blink.

  The urgency was designed to intimidate.

  She didn’t have to move that fast.

  All he had was a radio at his waist. No gun. It would have taken him at least a few seconds to register his colleague’s death, yank the radio free and depress the button to connect to Wayne’s earpiece.

  He hadn’t even started that process.

  As she landed, a thud resonated behind her.

  Large’s body, hitting the deck.

  Small blinked.

  Processed everything.

  The guise was now shattered. There’d be no more smiles, no more lustful gazes, no more flirtatious banter. She let her face show the ice-cold determination she’d been charged with all along.

  Small saw it too.

  He went pale.

  She said, ‘Take the radio out with two fingers. You use three, I’ll kill you. You even think about trying to contact him, I’ll shoot to wound and then finish you off with this knife.’

  He complied.

  Two fingers on the two-way radio, levering it out of its holster, and then dropping it like it was molten. It clattered to the deck between his feet and bounced under the nearest armchair.

  Perfect.

  She twisted her head ninety degrees and found all the girls in various states of realisation. The incident had unfolded silently, and Ruby’s voice had been the only thing to alert them to a change in circumstances. So far none of them had seen Large’s blood-soaked body behind the bar, but they could see the bartender frozen in absolute horror, and they sure as hell could see the Glock in Ruby’s hand.

  Ruby debated her next move.

  She could try to explain to them the nuances of a warlord funding one of Manhattan’s most prestigious real estate developments through shell corporations, but it’d simply take time she didn’t have.

  Instead, she said, ‘Aaron Wayne sells sex slaves. Do you understand?’

  All of them stared back, shocked, unblinking.

  Ruby said, ‘Do you see why
all of you are here? Do you see what almost happened to you?’

  Realisation dawned on their faces.

  Abject horror struck.

  The only woman who kept an ice-cold expression was Nadia.

  Ruby hesitated.

  Does she know I’m lying?

  She would.

  Years spent following Wayne around would have revealed some of the puzzle. Not all of it, but enough to know he wasn’t trafficking girls.

  Ruby said, ‘I need all of you to make your way downstairs and off this boat. I need you to do it quietly. I’ll handle the rest. Is that clear?’

  A sea of nods.

  She could see the stress chemicals hitting their systems, turning a lazy morning into a nightmare. The hypotheticals running through their heads. What if…?

  They’d be compliant.

  She said, ‘When I tell you to go, you go. Is that understood?’

  A second sea of nods.

  She turned back to Small. She’d kept him locked in her peripheral vision, aware of his every movement. He wasn’t budging. The Glock was still trained on his face, and her aim was unwavering.

  She said, ‘You have a taser gun in the holster against the small of your back.’

  He paused.

  Blew air out through his nose.

  Then gave a frustrated nod.

  ‘Take it out and drop it just like you did the radio.’

  He reached back.

  She said, ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  He nodded.

  Took out the taser — a small black handheld device fashioned in the same style as a tiny handgun — and held it out like he was allergic to it. Then he dropped it.

  ‘Good boy,’ she said.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Small said.

  She cocked her head.

  A gesture that said, Elaborate.

  He said, ‘Why haven’t you shot me?’

  ‘It’d make too much noise.’

  He nodded.

  ‘And I’m letting you go.’

  ‘You shouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why not? You’re a professional, Roy. At least, more professional than Vincent back there. He knew all about Wayne’s business, but you didn’t have a clue. You still don’t. You came in six months ago and you’ve diligently done your duty ever since. You haven’t asked about the racket he’s running. Vincent knew every detail. He’s been working for Wayne for years. He’s guilty. You’re not. You’ve just done your job.’