Locked and Loaded

by Alexis Grant

  “That and what if Assad hasn’t been fully paid yet because Roberto is waiting for his distributors to do the buy?” Anthony glanced at Sage for a moment. “What if it was a half up-front, half when my distributors come to town kind of deal?”

  “Damn…” Sage murmured. “That makes so much sense. It would have to be the only reason Assad is still here. Especially after all the chaos in Miami. Unless he had a real reason to stay, he should have been on the next thing smoking.”

  “My point exactly. And if that hunch proves valid, then we have an opportunity to ID anybody that’s in his security retinue as a potential courier. We’ll be able to follow them to the Canadian delivery and to anywhere else in the world they’re taking the money.” Anthony turned off Canal, heading toward the casino situated at the foot of it on Poydras Street. “This may be the last chance we have to talk like this for a while.”

  “I know,” Sage said resigned. “But I’ll only take like twenty minutes to grab a few items, get some makeup and toiletries, and then we can walk around the casino floor and see if we can spot Assad. I don’t think I should be gone more than an hour.”

  “Agreed. We’ll have a chance to reconvene in the car on the way back.”

  “Uh uh,” she said, shaking her head. “Once this vehicle leaves your sight and is in valet custody, it could be bugged. You don’t know who Roberto has called and you won’t know what they’ve stashed in your car.”

  Anthony nodded as they pulled up into the valet station. “Sage Wagner, falling in love with you is making this soldier sloppy.”

  He got out of the vehicle and rounded it before she could answer or an eager valet could open her door, leaving her slack-jawed.

  They walked into the brightly lit, French-styled, gold-and-ivory ornamental lobby that was accented with black-and-ivory diamond patterned marble floors. Pristine ferns, sumptuous centerpieces, and elaborate Victorian furnishings made them feel like they’d gone back in time to the antebellum south and had just stepped into the foyer of a huge plantation house. But she was numb to it all.

  Wresting back her focus, Sage headed to the concierge’s desk to get her bearings after the bomb Anthony had just dropped on her and to inquire about the shops. Thankfully the shopping pavilion was on the other side of the casino floor, which gave them a reasonable excuse for passing through it.

  Anthony caught her sidelong glance. They were on the same page. She thanked the ebullient hotel staffer and withdrew with Anthony to do a reconnaissance around the high roller sections of the floor.

  “Poker or baccarat?” she said in a low murmur. “Place your bets.”

  “My money’s on baccarat,” Anthony said, ushering her through the crowd by her elbow, but keeping a very respectable distance, lest they be seen by one of Salazar’s roving patrols. “More of a foreigner’s game.”

  She allowed a half smile to capture her face. “You’ll owe me dinner in Chicago if you’re right.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “You weren’t processing what I said.” She chuckled softly and kept walking.

  “Heeey … wait a minute.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed harder, but not too hard. “Generally if you win a bet, you get to set the terms.”

  “Maybe I was subconsciously setting the terms. Sounds like winner takes all to me.”

  “Touché,” she said calmly, not looking at him but smiling as they passed the baccarat salons. “And it’s dinner in Chicago.”

  She watched Anthony make eye contact with Assad, who nodded at him briefly like a trusted member of the group. Three men were with him.

  “Wanna fill me in?” she said as they stepped into the main shopping thoroughfare off the casino floor.

  “Haneef Massoud, Daoud El-Sayed, and Nazir Salahuddin. Right up in the top ten most-wanted by Intelligence along with Assad. Four of a kind beats a full house every time. We get all four, plus whoever is gonna make that Canada call, and it’s a damned royal flush. They weren’t here when this began.”

  “I take it that this means your man is waiting for the second half of his payment.”

  “Absolutely,” Anthony said in a murmur as she stopped in front of a designer shop. “Ten minutes in here, tops.”

  “I know. We have to get back … and more importantly, we’ve gotta get to a secure phone.”

  * * *

  Anthony watched Sage slip into a ritzy shop and stood guard just outside. He could see her through the glistening plate glass window, and there really wasn’t anywhere for her to go or for an attacker to slip in without him seeing the abduction.

  This was the hard part. The waiting while knowing there were a thousand things he needed to do and communicate but couldn’t without potentially blowing their covers.

  Yet in the midst of the madness, his nerves frayed and close to popping, he’d further compromised their psyches by telling her something so deep, ill-timed, and intimate that he wanted to kick his own ass. The truth had simply leapt out of his mouth as though he’d been water-boarded!

  He had to get a grip, had to focus on Assad now that his full inner circle was here in the States with him. That could lead to Aalam Bashir, someone they’d been hunting for since 2001.

  Ways to get word to his unit clawed at his mind, until he saw Agent Alvarez casually strolling toward him.

  “Hombre, whassup?” Alvarez said, grabbing Anthony’s hand and pulling him into a familiar urban homeboy embrace.

  “Need a word, man.”

  “I know you do,” Alvarez said, giving the casino cameras his back and looking through the window at Sage. He spoke barely moving his lips and kept his voice low. “We’ve got eyes, too, watching everything coming in and out of the compound in the Quarter. Saw your Beemer leave with our girl in it. Hallelujah. Plus, trucks have been on the move from the docks since this afternoon—that’s the word. Cleaned out the shipping containers on the freighter. All the ones we’re worried about went to Key West Construction warehouses. It’s cool for me to be here playing a little blackjack and killin’ time with the other distributors, feel me? ”

  “Yeah, man, I feel you,” Anthony said, keeping an eye on Sage and then glancing at Alvarez. “I’ve got three names that I need you to get to my unit—Haneef Massoud, Daoud El-Sayed, and Nazir Salahuddin. If you can’t remember, tell my unit, the big three are with the king and playing baccarat. Check lines of credit coming out of this joint and any wire transfers headed to Canada.”

  “Done,” Alvarez muttered. “You ready for tonight?”

  “As ready as I can be.”

  “We saw you come into the valet bay. Got your car covered. Look under the seat for some hit. Give it to her. You’ll find two encrypted cells and a couple of clips in the glove compartment. It’s down to the wire now, man. Anything can pop off at any time.”

  “Good looking out.”

  “De nada.” Alvarez looked through the glass and then at Anthony full-on. “How’s our girl?”

  “As well as can be expected, under the circumstances … a little banged up but thankfully not brutalized.”

  Alvarez nodded and then put out his fist for Anthony to pound it. “Then she’s doing real good, bro. Especially under the circumstances.”

  CHAPTER 13

  She saw Agent Alvarez talking to Anthony through the plate glass of the store window and hurried. But she waited until the two men parted before she actually exited the shop. Anthony collected her at the door and she kept her expression casual as they walked and she found a place that sold makeup, perfumes, and expensive toiletries.

  “Good news?”

  “Never better,” he said and then glanced around. “You’ve got phone and heat in the car. We’ll talk there. It’s covered.”

  She nodded, handed Anthony her bags, and stepped into the store.

  Moving as though on a timed game show, she was in and out of the small, glitzy emporium in a flash. From this point on, she and Anthony were pure motion, heading back to the car that would guarante
e them a few moments of strained privacy. Once inside it, she began digging into one of the larger bags for a purse she’d bought, yanking off the tags, and simultaneously feeling under the seat for the promise of salvation.

  Her hands touched familiar steel and she nearly gasped in relief. But never missing a beat she leaned forward and discreetly stashed it in her large, metallic purse, then extracted the clips from the glove compartment, discreetly handed Anthony two, hid two in her handbag, and looked at both cell phones. Written in water soluble marker on a piece of cellophane tape on each phone were the cell phone numbers. She repeated both to Anthony until he nodded and could repeat them back to her, then she licked her thumb and erased the numbers, wiping the light blue ink on her dark jeans.

  “Feel better?” he asked in a low, serious rumble.

  “Never better … now.”

  “Ditto.”

  “You know I may have to leave you in there tonight,” Anthony said.

  “I know that. Roberto will never have me anywhere near that meeting.” She glanced over at Anthony. “So far I’ve been pretty lucky … haven’t used up all my nine lives yet.”

  “I’m just worried that you’re dancing on number nine, Sage—”

  “Camille,” she corrected gently. “You can’t worry about that when you go in there. You more than anybody knows what can happen if a soldier loses focus. I need you to come back for me.” Her voice fractured as it dropped to a harsh whisper. “Promise me.”

  “You only have to ask me that once, baby.”

  She nodded and stared out the window.

  There were no logistics to discuss, nothing else to say … nothing that was safe. She’d fallen in love with a soldier and it had happened so fast, so furiously, in the heat of combat that, there was no explanation for it. And it was the last thing either of them needed right now yet also everything they’d always needed. It was ill-timed, inconvenient, and totally insane. Anthony’s voice made her insides flutter as he spoke in low, commanding bursts to his unit over the encrypted cell phone, getting intel on the movement of the contraband from the docks. Pedestrians were a blur as Roberto’s compound came into view.

  “I heard you loud and clear, Captain,” she said as the gates opened. She waited for him to nod. “Ditto. Remember that.”

  He got out of the vehicle without a word and rounded it, opening the door for her, both of them well aware that unseen eyes were observing them. She walked ahead of him with her head held high, resigned to whatever fate had in store for them.

  Thankfully, Roberto didn’t greet her at the back of the house. Only guards were there with Maritsa.

  “You must eat, Señorita,” the older woman urged quietly, and then produced a small vial of Xanax. “This will help.”

  “Just some toast and a bottled water so this settles on my stomach, all right?” Sage replied, accepting her bags from Anthony. There was no way in the world she was ingesting anything from the wrong side this close to a sting, especially when it was clear that Roberto wanted her to stay quiet and oblivious to all that was happening around her. “Gracias.”

  “De nada,” he said quietly, and then left her side.

  “Boss is in the library,” one of the guards informed Anthony on his way out of the kitchen.

  She stared after Anthony for a moment and then went upstairs via the back staircase, nerves filleting by the second. As soon as she got in her room she ripped into her bags, changing so that she’d be ready for any eventuality, ready to hit the streets packing.

  Black leather pants, red off-the-shoulder sweater, low-heel boots to make kicking ass and running practical—she changed down to the drawers and a push-up bra for dramatic effect and in order to pass inspection.

  As Sage was beating her face with powder and applying mascara, Maritsa brought up a tray with toast and water. Thanking the older woman and accepting the tray, Sage closed the door on her, not allowing Maritsa to witness her take the meds. Those were going down the sink. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

  * * *

  He walked into the library and found Roberto there with Hector and Rico.

  “Thank you for keeping an eye on Camille,” Roberto said, pouring a Scotch. “Tonight, I need fast hands at my side, in case we have another problem like we had earlier.”

  Anthony nodded, measuring Rico’s fury and something about Hector that he couldn’t figure out yet.

  “So since Rico is wounded and has already earned a purple heart, I’m asking him to stay here with house guards to make sure my prized possession isn’t harmed. You will go over with the advance guards and make sure that the warehouse is clear. Then you will call me, and I will then have Hector inform the other four distributors that it is clear to proceed. Do you have a problem with walking point?”

  “None at all.”

  “Bueno … because, after all, my mentor once told me that a man he respected once said, ‘trust but verify.’ I trust you, Juan … but I must verify that this afternoon wasn’t just a fluke or lucky reflexes. Asking a man to walk point in a very dangerous deal is a way to verify.”

  “Understood.”

  Roberto turned to Rico. “Camille is to be my wife … the future mother of my children. If there is a breach in this compound, you die making sure she lives or die by my hand if she doesn’t.”

  “Sí, Jefe,” Rico said, but with an angry sneer, glancing at his wounded arm. “You have verified me and I haven’t failed you.”

  Roberto nodded and lifted a glass toward Rico. “Don’t be jealous of Juan. It is an emotion that can divide brothers. Do I not treat you as a brother, and reward you well?”

  “Sí, Roberto,” Rico mumbled, looking away.

  “In this time of rebuilding, we cannot have a division between brothers. No one is putting Juan over you—there are different times for different skills.”

  Rico nodded and looked up at Juan.

  “Shake,” Roberto commanded. “One day in a firefight you may have to have each other’s backs.”

  To ease the tension, Anthony stepped forward first and extended his hand. Rico grudgingly accepted it. Roberto smiled and knocked back his drink, although Hector remained oddly detached and passive.

  “Bueno!” Roberto said, and then dismissed Anthony and Rico with a wave of his hand.

  “Before we leave, can I speak to you, brother?” Hector asked quietly.

  Anthony kept walking, not liking the sound of Hector’s request. There was something frightened and too skittish about it when addressing his blood brother. But he couldn’t linger to investigate it. Two burly guards now flanked him and were escorting him to the cars as Rico went to join the others in the kitchen.

  * * *

  Hector poured a drink with shaking hands and took a timid sip from it. Roberto barely noticed his brother’s birdlike motions as he found his nine-millimeter in the study’s mahogany desk drawer and checked the clip in it.

  “After tonight, the little setback we experienced earlier will be forgotten and we will be very rich men.” Roberto stared at his brother now. “I’ve invested five million, cash, and my distributors will each bring a million—combined that makes ten million dollars’ worth of product this pure, that will soon net ten and a half times that in street value once it’s flipped. A hundred and fifty million dollars. I don’t even have to use my profit to replace whatever got damaged or destroyed today. Insurance pays for that because I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

  He laughed and lifted his glass to Hector. “Then the five I invested comes right back to me, when Assad completes his weapons deal.” Leaning into his brother, Roberto pressed his point. “I have actually invested nothing, and will come away with seventy-five million dollars … for nada. Do you understand what a coup that is? That will put me firmly into the billionaire’s club before I am forty, and I have a steady, eager supplier in Assad.”

  “This would have only been a coup if Guzman hadn’t found out,” Hector said quietly, stepping away from Roberto. “Maybe �
�� maybe if you tell him you did this for him, to bring this new alliance into the family, he’ll forgive you or understand?”

  “What…” Roberto whispered in a lethal murmur. “Are you loco, Hector?”

  “No,” he said, lifting his chin. “But I think sometimes your ambition drives you too far. What happened today convinced me. Guzman will not stop until he wipes you off the face of the map … and no amount of money will ever give you peace if he feels he’s been betrayed. Do not go to this meeting. I have a bad feeling. Call him,” Hector pleaded. “Talk to him. He loves you like a son, Roberto!”

  “Do you hear yourself, Hector?” Roberto said, shaking his head. “You sound so weak and so insane.” He set down his drink and just looked at the gun on his desk. “Go to Guzman, crawl on my knees, and apologize … and suck his dick that he might allow me back into the fold after what I have done.”

  “Sí,” Hector whispered.

  “You would actually tell your brother—me—to suck a man’s dick to keep from dying!”

  “No … I’m just asking you to think, Roberto! You may be worth two or three billion; he is worth ten times that, maybe a hundred. How can you fight that or his network? Today, he showed you what he could do!”

  “No!” Roberto shouted, rounding the desk to stand in Hector’s face. Grabbing his brother by the suit jacket lapels, he shoved him. “Today I showed him!” he added, slapping his chest. “I showed that old man that I am not afraid, that I am a businessman who is ready to fly on his own, if not moved up quickly enough! Gone are the old days. This is a new world. And I showed Arturo that I am not afraid!”