“Agreed, but can we get them all?” Sinjin looked interested, or like now it was he who was three steps ahead.
Romeo’s eyes got bigger and bigger. He knew me well enough to be afraid.
An all-in kind of gal.
Teddie.
“No, not all of them. Even God couldn’t do that without a flood. But we can cut the heart out of the beast, then let the authorities who really do want to clean the place up take care of the rest. Not a perfect solution, but I think one we both could live with?”
I gave both men time to think, then I looked at Romeo. “I’ll put you on a plane. There’s no guarantee we all won’t go down in flames and end up rotting in some Chinese hell-hole.”
His face seemed to age ten-years, which meant he looked all of twenty-two, but that got my attention. “No, thanks. You’ve been there for me every step of the way. Now it’s my turn.”
“You’ve already saved my life once, maybe twice. I think that gives you a pass on this one.”
He nodded as his eyes got a faraway look. “Once. But there are no balanced scales in friendship.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is this place rubbing off on you? That sounds suspiciously like one of those obtuse Chinese proverbs.”
We both looked at Sinjin, who shrugged. “If it is not, it should be.” Then he looked at me. “What do you have in mind?”
“Oh, I think you know. You set this up.”
“Set what up?” he said, his voice flat, his manner almost careless; yet, underneath I sensed a spring wound tight.
I pulled a pamphlet out of my Birkin and opened it, spreading it wide so both men could see it. I pointed at the largest photo. “Do you know this watch?”
Sinjin’s eyes narrowed. “The Patek Phillipe. Worth twenty million American dollars.”
“Twenty-Five. It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it? One of a kind.” We all stared at the full-color photo of the pocket watch. To me, the price seemed a tad steep, okay, like super ridiculous—but that whole demand-and-supply thing was obviously at work here. “But you knew that, didn’t you?” I speared the pirate with a look.
His dark eyes met mine.
“You brought me here because you want me to help you steal not only it, but the whole collection. One hundred million, you said.”
Romeo choked, then coughed.
“All of them are in my hotel. But you know all about that. And I’d be willing to bet my hotel that Mr. Cho wants you to steal it for him.”
“Would you bet your hotel?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What about your life?”
“Are you trying to talk me into this game or out of it?” I folded the brochure and put it back in my purse. “Stealing that watch, or trying to, would be suicide. But, with help from the inside, you might be able to pull it off. But,” I angled myself toward him, “if you want my help you have to tell me the whole plan.”
“Can I trust you?” he asked, which seemed a bit late to me.
“Any one of us is as trustworthy as our goals for being a part of it.”
He flashed that damned smile again. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I need, and, if you can pull it off, you tell me what I will have to pay to get your help. Deal?”
I swallowed hard then took the hand he extended. “Deal.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I’D just made a deal with the Devil. I knew it, and I couldn’t do anything about it. It was the only chance I had to somehow make all of this right. I couldn’t bring Kim Cho back, but I could finish her job, exact her price.
For the girls, Minnie had said. No, for the women, young and not-so-young, everywhere. A lofty goal, even one that had me a bit in awe. And with no one to trust and two days to do it.
Talk about being all in, and all crazy.
With hands on his knees, Sinjin relaxed back. “I need a schematic of the security grid.”
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“If I give it to you, you can hack in and you don’t need me anymore. You tell me when and how you need the grid to go down, and I’ll arrange that.”
“You could be making a cage.” The muscles in his cheek bunched as he clenched his jaw, the only sign of his irritation.
“Indeed. But if it’s a cage, it will catch us all.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“Romeo to be your bag man.” I ignored the wide eyes Romeo shot me.
“You want the boy to keep his eye on me?” Sinjin tried to hide his scoff.
“A small thing to ask, don’t you think? And you taking out Mr. Cho. That’s part of your plan, right? He killed your sister and enslaved your mother. Your revenge is my family’s gain. Consider your debt paid in full.”
“You said no repayment was necessary.”
“True, but I’m just helping you walk away with your head held high.”
He threw his head back and laughed. When he’d sobered, he wiped off the last vestiges of a grin. “You win, Lucky O’Toole. God help me.”
“God help all of us.” I couldn’t believe that making a pact with the Devil actually had me feeling pretty proud of myself and hopeful for the second time since I’d left home. “What are your plans for Frank Cho?”
Romeo swiveled around and gave me a look, one I recognized and didn’t like. Then he delivered the coup de grâce. “Sinjin here let Frank go.”
For the first time in a while, I became keenly aware of the cold metal of the gun pressed against the small of my back. “Why would you do that?” I asked, turning to get a good look at Sinjin. My voice had gone all strong and cold, my eyes tightening to slits.
“Whoa,” Romeo said. Smart man—he knew that look.
Sinjin seemed unaware of his imminent death. “It is best to use your enemy’s hand to catch a snake.”
“Oh, great. Now you’re going to go all Oriental on me.”
He shrugged. “Thought I’d try. But, really, the proverb is a good one. Mr. Cho is most vulnerable from within. His narcissism will never let him believe someone close to him would betray him. Not until it is too late.”
“And you think Frank is your guy?”
“I know he is.” Sinjin wiped a hand across his eyes.
“Tough gig being a pirate?”
“No, that part is easy. No rules.” He speared me with a look. “But revenge?”
“Best served cold?” We were both playing with that hot potato. With no pithy erudition of my own, I watched the scenery roll past. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home, to your hotel.”
A cold sweat popped. “I don’t have any explanation for the border guards.”
“Let me handle it.”
I had no choice, but I knew either we’d sail through or we’d all never be heard from again.
Sinjin waved at the border guards who nodded and motioned us through.
Once clear, my stomach unclenched and I relaxed back. “Man, I would kill for stroke like that.”
“Sometimes it requires that,” Sinjin said, rather nonchalantly to suit my tastes.
“Toto,” I said to Romeo.
“We’re not in Vegas anymore.” The kid finished my line.
Everyone smiled at the reference, even the driver who had maintained a stoic expression up to that point. “The expansion of Western culture will be the Communist’s downfall,” I said, then instantly regretted going all political.
“You mean greed?” Sinjin asked. “Indubitably.”
“Are you safe traveling here?”
“No one knows my face, except the two of you. There is a fairly high price on my head, in case you’re interested.” Sinjin didn’t seem concerned.
“You needn’t worry about us. But I assume Frank Cho could pick you out of a lineup?”
“If he’d wanted my head on a spit, he could’ve had it long ago. We were to be family. Even in death, Kim joins us. Frank will not stop until the men who killed Kim are dead themselves. If he fails, I will finish the job.”
/>
“Men?”
“In China, no one acts alone. And the person responsible is never the one with the knife in his hand.” This time it was he who reached across and squeezed my arm. “We are fighting different battles, but the same war. Trust me.”
My entire world rode on the decision I made. Trust him—or not?
I thought about it for a good long while, and he left me alone with my struggles. Finally, the driver turned the big car up the drive to my hotel, stopping at the valet stand. “We have a deal. I will honor it, whatever it takes. For the girls.”
Sometimes life requires a person to put everything on the line for the things she believes in. This was my time.
“Especially for the girls.” He turned to face me more fully. “When you see Mr. Cho, and you will, spar with him a bit. Make him think you’re desperate; that you’ll give him anything to get your hotel back and get your father out of their bulls-eye.”
I bristled at his instructions. “Are you telling me how to play the game?”
“The game is played a bit differently here, half a world away from Vegas. The Asian culture is…”
“Enigmatic?”
“Arrogant, especially a man when dealing with a woman.”
I leaned away from him. “You want me to grovel?”
He actually laughed. “Impossible. But you’re a businesswoman, and a damn good one if how you’ve manhandled me is any indication. So, make a deal.”
“Technically, I don’t think you really need me.”
“Maybe not. But the watches won’t be here long, and I don’t have time to plan as fully as I would like. You are the key to success, for all of us. Besides, in another way, you make my position much stronger. There are so many things that could go wrong when stealing the pieces; our marks could get twitchy and pull out. Having insider help sweetens the pot. You will help lure your sheep to slaughter. That’s what you want, right?”
I started to object, then gave up. Yeah, Mr. Cho’s head on a platter would be perfect.
Sinjin pulled out his iPhone, and, using his thumbs, he navigated the screens. Holding the phone so I could see, he asked, “This is your number?”
It wasn’t really a question if he knew the answer, which I could see he did. I nodded anyway.
He punched in some numbers then hit send.
My phone dinged.
“Now you have my number. I know I don’t need to tell you not to identify it in any way.”
“Can you set up one of your dummy accounts? That’s what it is, isn’t it? You’re not really doing business through a real bank, just a virtual one. Am I right?”
“The virtual world is a great place to hide.” He tapped in some more numbers. “Here’s the routing number, the account number, and the style on the account.” I raised an eyebrow. “I set it up for something that hasn’t come together just yet. We can use it. It is safe. I don’t need to tell you not to breathe a word.”
“Not my first rodeo, cowboy,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “But you sell me out, I’ll shoot you myself.”
“Likewise.” He didn’t smile.
Shoulder to shoulder as we stood in front of the Tigris, Romeo and I watched him go. Neither of us had any words, at least not for a moment. As we turned toward the entrance to the hotel, Romeo recovered first, his bottled-up words tumbling out as he bounced on his feet with the energy of a puppy at dinnertime.
“That was so friggin’ cool.” Worship dripped from every word and he lunged for the door, narrowly elbowing the bellman out of the way. Holding the door wide, he bowed and made a sweeping gesture. “After you.”
I tossed a tight smile to the bellman as I swept through the door, then shot Romeo my best grown-up glare, which he studiously ignored. The lobby, teeming with people, offered us the anonymity of being two in a crowd. They’d changed the music. Electronica wasn’t my thing, but I bowed to wiser heads than mine. The crowd seemed to pulse with the music.
Romeo caught me in two strides. “Don’t you think he is so cool? A pirate!”
With a look I shushed him. “No, this is not cool; he is not cool. He’s a desperate man who will work with us as long as he needs us. Don’t be fooled.”
My warning didn’t dim Romeo’s light. “He’s a good guy. You wait.” Finally, he lowered the wattage a bit. “What are we going to do?”
“You are going to call Brandy and tell her only that everything is fine, nothing else.” I stopped, and with a hand on his arm, and pulled him around to face me. “You got that? It’s very important.”
People flowed around us, cocooning us from anyone with abnormal interest.
“Sure, sure. Everything’s fine.”
I could feel the adrenaline vibrating through him. “Then get something to eat, take a shower, and try for some shut-eye. We may not get another opportunity until this is over.”
He wilted. “But…”
“No. I need to make some plans. There’s nothing to do right now.”
“Okay.” I could see the tiredness creep over him as the adrenaline let loose its hold. “Do you trust Stokes enough to let him in on this?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then how are you going to get him involved?”
“Lie.”
“But that could get you jail time. Lying to a Fed is serious business.” Romeo acted like he’d been absent for most of the conversation with Sinjin.
I glanced around, but people were only paying us casual attention. I pulled him close. “Minor compared to everything else.” I snagged an extra key to my suite from the front desk. “Here.” I took Romeo’s hand and pressed the key into it. “There’re two bedrooms. Take the one I’m not in.” I added that unnecessarily—I wasn’t dealing with Teddie, who would need the extra clarity. “If you’re hungry, call room service and charge it to the room. But be very careful. People are not who they seem to be.” I echoed Kim Cho’s warning.
That almost snuffed the ardor of his pirate envy.
Stokes tapped his fingers on the handrail of the escalator, a distracted look on his face. He was riding down from the junket level, and I was riding up. The day was dimming—I’d taken time to clean up and find a few winks in my suite. Sleep would be at a premium from here on out.
Still below his stare into the distance, I could see him, but he hadn’t noticed me. The precious seconds gave me time to think. What to do with Stokes?
I needed answers. And, if I was going to pull off a robbery of epic proportions, I’d need his help. The local authorities couldn’t be trusted—I had no proof, just a healthy case of skepticism and no time to persuade myself I was being paranoid. The FBI was the only American agency within shouting distance and, more important, the only one who could round up Irv Gittings and drag him back home where he could buy off another judge.
That thought was a constant prod to my inner vigilante.
Funny how quickly I seemed to be going rogue.
As Stokes slid past, still looking over my head, I grabbed his hand then let go.
He jumped but recovered quickly. Turning, he looked up at me. “O’Toole, I’ve been looking for you.”
In the junket rooms? I doubted it, but played along. “You found me. Meet me at the bar in the vestibule up here, but give me five.”
Before Stokes could make the round trip and perhaps see where I was headed, I ducked around the corner and into the wire transfer room. A clerk sitting behind thick bulletproof glass with a slot cut in the bottom where the glass met the counter looked up when I burst through the door with a bit more energy than I’d intended.
He positioned a mic on a flexible stand. “May I help you?”
“I need the in-bound wiring instructions, all the routing numbers, and whatever else I need, if you please.” I shrugged.
“Will this be local or foreign?”
Hmm, hadn’t thought up that lie. “Give me both.”
He narrowed his eyes, then he snaked one hand under his desk.
“B
efore you call Security, I’m with corporate in Vegas.”
“Your name?”
I gave it to him. He pursed his lips. “O’Toole, I’ve heard of you. Glad you told me. I thought maybe you were the girlfriend of one of those Russians—the women are all tall and good-looking like you. The men?” He made a face. “Not so much. All that body hair.” He visibly shuddered. “They send their women down here, and I have to tell them I can’t do anything without the big man himself. Doesn’t go over too well. I’m pretty happy for the bulletproof glass, know what I mean?”
So many questions, so little time. Which was probably a good thing—I didn’t think I really wanted to know exactly how he knew about the Russians’ body hair. So I nodded and said, “Totally.” Which wasn’t a complete lie—when it came to protection from people shooting in one’s general direction, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Tearing the top sheet of paper off a pad, he pushed it through the slot without another word. I was pretty sure he gave me a knowing wink, though, which I did my best to ignore. Some people have no appreciation for authority—I should know; I’m one of them.
I glanced at the paper. So much money coming into the hotel they had the wire instructions preprinted? I stuffed the note in my pocket, then, without a nod, I turned and left.
Stokes had scored us a table in the corner, but, considering the bar was empty, not a great feat.
“Bubbles?” he asked with a forced smile.
“No, this isn’t a social visit.” I took the chair across from him, but I didn’t lean back—this wouldn’t take long. “So, what were you doing up here?”
“Like I said, looking for you.”
“Not looking for Irv Gittings? He’s a fugitive from justice. I’m just a lowly corporate grunt on a toot in China.”
“And I’m the President of the United States.”
I shrugged. “It’s your fantasy. Who am I to quibble?” Personally, anyone who fancied him or herself in the country’s highest office was suspect in my book, but I didn’t think it helpful to say so.
I found the motorcycle rider’s ID in my purse, then slapped it on the table between us. “Well, Mr. President, want to tell me about this guy?”
Lucky the Hard Way Page 19
