The Big Kahuna

by Janet Evanovich

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what.”

  Vicky held up a DVD. “It’s a montage of all my best highlights from back when I was a famous actress. I was saving it in case I received a lifetime achievement award, but this is more important.”

  Kate looked at the DVD. It was titled Sticky Vicky: Boner Jams, Volumes One, Two, and Three. “You’re selling a porn video to the Chinese government?”

  “And whatever the price is, it’s totally worth it,” Vicky said. “I guarantee that they won’t have any buyer regret, if you know what I mean.”

  “The Kahuna added an encryption so it will look just like the files stolen from Sentience. It should fool them long enough for us to get away. By the time they break the encryption, it will be too late.”

  The Kahuna grinned. “I also added a little something that the boys in Sentience R&D developed a couple years ago. It’s a virus that will enable us to redirect any wire payments from the ambassador’s account to ours.”

  Kate raised a single eyebrow. “What were your R&D guys planning to do with it?”

  “They stole a couple million dollars from me,” the Kahuna said, “before I figured out what had happened and shut them down.”

  “And you didn’t turn them in?” Nick asked.

  “Are you kidding? I gave them a promotion. Best decision I ever made. In my business, you need people who think outside the box.”

  “What about Neklan and Olga?” Cosmo asked.

  Nick shrugged. “They aren’t going to have a lot of hiding places once the Chinese figure out they got scammed by them for hundreds of millions. I’m hoping they’ll take their chances with the U.S. justice system rather than with Zhang Wei.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Kate said. “Neklan is crazy.”

  “But Olga isn’t. Who knows? Maybe she’ll make a deal.” He slung an arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Look how great it worked out for you the last time you made a deal with a con man.”

  * * *

  —

  Ten hours later, Nick and Kate were in Prague, staring out the window of their room on the third floor of the Four Seasons. The Vltava River flowed below them, and Prague Castle sat at the top of a hill on the other side. They were occupying the three-thousand-square-foot presidential suite. It was decorated in typical Old World European style, complete with red and gold tapestries and a king-size four-poster bed. Jake and the Kahuna were in one corner of the room talking, while Cosmo was watching Vicky take belfies in the Bavarian barmaid costume.

  “Where’s Gregory and his crew?” Kate asked Nick. “We’re supposed to be at the Chinese embassy in less than an hour.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Kate blew out a sigh of relief when Nick showed Betina into the room.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Betina said. “There was a complication, but Greg will be right up.”

  Cosmo rushed over to shake Betina’s hand. “I’m Cosmo Uno.” He paused to catch his breath. “I’m your number one fan. I think it’s amazing how you can think of jokes wearing those tight stretchy pants. When my pants are too tight I can’t think of anything, except maybe that I need new pants.”

  Betina smiled at Cosmo. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “So, what’s it like being a movie star?” Cosmo asked. “Do you know Mel Gibson?”

  “I might have seen him at Starbucks once.”

  “Cool. Have you ever seen Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome? Do you remember that part where Mel’s supposed to fight Blaster and Tina Turner tells him ‘Two men enter, one man leaves’?”

  “I guess so. It sounds familiar.”

  Cosmo’s upper lip broke out in sweat beads. “It was a pretty great movie, and that was my favorite part. Maybe you could use it sometime on your podcast.”

  Betina cleared her throat and paused to channel her inner Tina Turner. “Welcome to the Thunderdome. Two men enter, one man leaves.”

  Cosmo shivered a little and rubbed his arms. “I just got goosies. That was awesome.”

  “You mentioned a complication,” Kate said to Betina. “What kind of complication? We’re on a pretty tight schedule.”

  Betina rolled her eyes. “The complication? You’ve got to see this for yourself.”

  Greg walked through the door, coaxing along a little gray-haired woman wearing a blue velour tracksuit and white tennies. “Come on, Grandma. I’m going to be late for work.”

  “Nice to see you again, Mrs. K,” Nick said.

  Mrs. Kowowski hit Greg with her purse. “You’re always rushing me.” She turned to Nick and Kate and looked around the lavish hotel suite. “I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. I guess my Gregory is really an international spy after all.”

  Nick put his hand on Greg’s shoulder. “That’s right, Mrs. K. Greg’s going to help us save the world from a horde of evil Chinese robots.”

  “Is it that nasty Badger again?”

  “You bet,” Nick said. “And we’re late. We’re supposed to meet the rest of the crew by Prague Castle before heading over to the embassy. They’re in charge of distracting the Badger while Greg works.”

  “Well, I’m coming too.” She wet her finger with her tongue and wiped some crumbs off Greg’s cheek, as he tried unsuccessfully to bat her hand away. “It’s not every day that you get to watch your grandson save the world.”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. K,” Nick said as they left the room. “Just be sure to stay out of the way. The Badger can be unpredictable.”

  Nick, Kate, and the rest of the crew walked out of the hotel and along the Vltava toward the Charles Bridge. It was a bright, sunny day. The cobblestone streets, most with unpronounceable Czech names, were lined with tourists, and the lazy river was filled with little rowboats rented from the nearby boathouse. They turned onto a two-thousand-foot-long, pedestrian-only stone bridge and walked along the alley lined with baroque-style statues of saints guarded by three gothic watchtowers.

  Kate looked up the steep hill at the castle on the other side of the river. “Where’s the Chinese embassy?”

  “Most of the consulates and Czech government buildings, including the Chinese embassy, are on this side of the river near the castle,” Nick said as they trudged up the hill lined with restaurants and tourist shops.

  They reached a public garden near the top of the hill, and Nick stopped. He pointed to a group of twenty or so millennials, carrying large poster boards and milling around a fountain. “There’s our distraction. You’re lucky I represent these guys. They’re crazy busy with work right now, but they owe me a favor.”

  Nick and Kate walked over to the group, along with Jake, Cosmo, Vicky, the Kahuna, Greg, Betina, and Mrs. Kowowski. Their leader was standing on a bench, trying to organize them. “Has everybody got their signs and asshats?” he shouted. He pointed to a young woman in the group. “Cheryl, for the last time, put on your asshat and get ready to start chanting.”

  Nick shook the leader’s hand and turned to Kate. “This is Thomas Worth. He’s the best counterprotestor protestor in the Western Hemisphere.”

  Thomas smiled and waved his hand at Nick. “I used to be just a counterprotestor until I met this guy. He really took us to the next level.”

  “What do you guys protest?” Cosmo asked.

  Thomas got within six inches of Cosmo’s face, and within seconds he was surrounded by the group. “‘Guys’? Do we all look like guys to you? You’d better watch your gender identification labels, buddy.” He sniffed Cosmo. “You stink like fear and white male privilege to me.”

  Cosmo smelled himself. “Are you sure it’s not Old Spice?”

  “I’ll bet he’s a card-carrying member of the patriarchy too,” Cheryl said. “Let’s take his picture and post it on Facebook.”

  Cosmo looked as if he was about to faint. “Oh lordy. I always knew my toxic masculinity was going to get me i
n trouble someday.”

  Cheryl slapped Cosmo on the back and laughed. “Oh man. You should have seen your face. We’re just messing with you.”

  “Here’s the thing,” Nick said. “There are plenty of protestors and plenty of counterprotestors. You throw a bunch of people protesting the counterprotestors into the mix, put hats that look like butts on their heads, get the whole thing on video, and take it all the way to the YouTube bank.”

  “But why are they wearing hats that look like butts?” Vicky asked. “I like butts as much as the next person, but they only look good above your legs and below your belly button.”

  “Marketing,” Nick said. “You need a hook if you want people to remember your brand. Something memorable . . . like asshats.”

  “That makes sense,” Cosmo said. “I’d watch a bunch of asshats on YouTube.”

  Nick checked his watch. “We’re supposed to meet the ambassador’s son at ten A.M. then begin the podcast half an hour later.” He turned to Jake. “You should plan on showing up at the embassy with Thomas and the Asshats around ten forty-five. We’ll need a big distraction.”

  “No problem,” Jake said. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

  24

  Nick and Kate left Jake at the castle with Mrs. Kowowski and the protestors, and led Betina, Greg, Cosmo, Vicky, and the Kahuna through Letná Park and across a highway onto tree-lined Pelléova Avenue. Stone mansions, once the homes of Bohemian aristocrats and now housing mostly consulates and government offices, hid behind iron gates and fences.

  “The Chinese embassy is just ahead on the right,” Nick said. “The ambassador’s son, Zhang Yong, will meet us at the entrance.”

  The Chinese embassy was housed in a large complex behind a ten-foot-tall fence and a network of security cameras. Zhang Yong was waiting in front of a set of tall green double doors that opened up into a large courtyard and the consulate building.

  “No way,” he said when he saw Betina. “It’s really you. I thought it might have been a prank. I love your podcast.”

  Nick shook Yong’s hand. “I’m Betina’s producer, Nicholas Nacky. We’re doing a European tour, and we thought it would be cool to film in the Chinese embassy. She has a huge Chinese audience.”

  Yong nodded his head. “It’s an honor. Will I be on the podcast too?”

  “Of course,” Nick said. “Playing Fortnite with her international fans is the whole point of the tour.”

  “Awesome. Who are all the other people?”

  “Cosmo and Rich are cameramen,” Nick said. “Greg is a technical adviser, Kate is my assistant, and Vicky is an Instagram model making a guest appearance on the show.”

  “Technically, I’m a super Instagram model,” Vicky said. “I’m planning a wardrobe malfunction sometime during the taping, so let me know if you hate boobs.”

  Yong looked at Vicky in her Bavarian barmaid costume. His eyes were the size of dinner plates. “This is going to be the best day of my life.”

  Yong led Nick, Kate, and the rest of the crew through the green doors and then past two disinterested armed guards. “I’m bringing some friends back to my place to play video games,” he said to them.

  The guards barely looked up and waved Yong through. “Pretty lax security,” Kate whispered to Nick. “I guess they’re used to Yong bringing guests into the compound.”

  Yong walked them through the courtyard up to the front of a mansion with a Chinese flag flying above the front door. “This is the main building. The residential part is on one side and the offices are on another.” He led them into the residential section, through a series of hallways lined with Chinese art and artifacts. “That’s my dad,” he said, pointing to a sixty-something Chinese man wearing a tailored business suit walking toward them.

  Zhang Wei walked up to his son, frowned, and said something to him in Chinese.

  “Jeez, Dad. Super rude. Can’t you at least speak English in front of my friends?”

  The ambassador glared at his son. “Who the heck are all these people?”

  “Chill out. We’re just going to my room to play Fortnite.”

  Zhang Wei shook his head. “More video games? Would it kill you to get outside and try some sports once in a while?”

  Yong put both hands on his head and groaned. “I don’t know, Dad. Would it? Is that what you want . . . your son to get killed playing sports? Would that make you love me?”

  “We will speak of this later,” Zhang Wei said. “I have matters to attend to now.” He turned on his heel and walked away down the hall.

  “Sorry about that. My dad’s kind of a stick-in-the-mud.” He led Nick, Kate, and the others into a suite of rooms decorated in a contemporary Western style, complete with an eighty-five-inch television, a comfortable-looking oversized couch, a pool table, and a state-of-the-art gaming chair. He smiled at Betina. “This is my space at the embassy. It’s nice, right?” He flopped himself down on the couch. “Make yourself at home.”

  “Vicky was hoping to get a picture for her Instagram account in your father’s office later,” Nick said. “Is it in this building?”

  “It’s on the second floor at the end of the hallway in the other wing, but Dad is super uncool about me bringing my friends there.”

  “What a shame,” Betina said. “It would be epic to film in his office.” She winked at Yong. “You never bring girls there?”

  Yong grinned sheepishly. “Okay, you got me. I do bring people there once in a while when Dad is out of town.” He thought for a moment. “It would be pretty epic, but we can’t. Dad had meetings yesterday and again today with some Czech a-hole.”

  Nick looked at his watch. It read 10:45 A.M. “Let’s hope something pulls him away from his work then.” An alarm sounded, and a light on the wall blinked yellow. “What’s going on?” he asked Yong.

  Yong waved his hand dismissively. “Just ignore it. That thing goes off all the time. Probably just a bunch of people outside protesting something or other. You don’t have to worry unless it goes from yellow to red.”

  “What happens then?”

  “The embassy is put on lockdown and all the bigwigs, like my dad, go to hide in the safe room until they get the all clear.”

  The alarm sounded again, and the light went red.

  Yong sat up. “That’s not good. I wonder what’s happening out there.”

  Kate looked at Nick. “I wonder.”

  * * *

  —

  Zhang Wei, Viktor Neklan, and Olga Zellenkova looked out of the ambassador’s floor-to-ceiling windows at the scene in the courtyard just below. A flash mob of around a hundred Dalai Lamas in orange Buddhist robes dancing to the music of Saturday Night Fever had stormed the courtyard and were quickly joined by a hundred dancing Mao Zedongs, all dressed in gray pocketed tunic suits.

  Wei shook his head. “It must be the ‘Free Tibet’ crowd again. This is something new for them though,” he said, pointing at the group of asshat-wearing twenty-year-olds as they banged on the mansion’s front door demanding to see the ambassador.

  Thomas tore down the Chinese flag above the door and replaced it with a “Mao Is a Meanie” poster while Cheryl looked up at the ambassador directly above, shouting incomprehensibly about the patriarchy. Meanwhile, the other Asshats continued to protest the Maos, while the Dalai Lamas danced and the astonished guards looked at one another, unsure of what to do. In the chaos, nobody noticed the sixty-something ex-commando sneak through a side door into the consulate.

  Thirty seconds later, the fire alarm sounded. Wei shook his head as the red light in the corner of his office started to blink. “Maybe we’d better evacuate until this all gets sorted out.”

  A group of uniformed guards rushed in and escorted the ambassador and his guests down to the panic room in the basement of the embassy.

  “I don’t like this,” Olga said
to Neklan as the panic room door slammed shut behind them, locking them in. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  Neklan sat down on a chair and watched the panic room video monitors showing chaos in the courtyard. “You don’t know how to relax,” he said to Olga. “When I was running the StB, this was standard protocol for these disturbances. As soon as it’s over, we get our money, Wei gets his AI technology, and we’re out of here. Then it’s time to kill that FBI agent and her friend, but only after we bury everyone else they care about.”

  “How do I know what you’ve given me is worth one hundred million?” Wei asked. “It had better be what you promised, or there will be repercussions. There won’t be anyplace on Earth for you to hide from the people in my government funding this deal.”

  “We’ve done a lot of very profitable business together. I’d think you’d have some trust by now,” Neklan said. “Besides, how do I know you’ll wire the money, now that you have the technology?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll have your money.”

  Neklan stared at Wei. “I’d better. Prague is my town, and I have my own people who specialize in repercussions too.”

  Wei watched as the mob dispersed as quickly as it had formed, and a few Czech police cars began to arrive at the scene. “You see. It’s already over. My men will check the grounds and we’ll be out of here in no more than fifteen minutes.”

  * * *

  —

  Yong stood at a window in his suite of rooms as he watched the protestors in the courtyard. “It’s a flash mob. A pretty good one too.” He walked back to the couch and sat down. “My dad is going to have a conniption. By now security has probably got him on lockdown in the basement.” He paused. “The fire alarm’s going too. Maybe we should head down there.”

  “I don’t smell any smoke. It’s probably just a false alarm,” Nick said. “I think we should start filming the podcast. With a flash mob in the background, it’s sure to go viral.”