“Greek Avenger,” Aristede said, “You’ve got massive EMF readings on an intercept course to your position. Over.”
No shit. “Copy that. I’ve got a visual. Three actually.”
The sounds of soft knocking on a door. “Dagger, are you okay?” Cassie’s voice was little more than a whisper. Through the Mimicron’s heightened sound reception, it sounded like her hand was turning the doorknob.
Screw caution. I hoisted myself over the railing, just as the last bolt popped free. The piece of iron I’d clung to clattered on the concrete below. The spirits looked up at me, their hollow eye sockets wells of disappointment.
We’ll be waiting for you.
Take a number, biatches. I held my finger to the bracelet, willing the Mimicron’s two-way transmitter to broadcast my words to Cassie like a ventriloquist throwing his voice. “I need a few more minutes, Cass. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” she responded, unaware my voice was not really coming from behind the door.
“You’ve got two minutes before the network systems are back online,” Aristede reminded me.
I unclipped my buckle. “Piece of Cake.” This wasn’t the first time I’d been called on to undo my belt and finish something in under two minutes.
I aimed the buckle’s prong at the keyhole of Marco’s balcony door. A thin, green beam shot out and through the lock.
“Who are you?” Marco asked.
The lock clicked open, and I turned the knob, almost stumbling in the dark on the pile of clothes Marco had left by the door.
“… Ginny …” Alexei read.
I risked turning on the light by the bed. Aside from the clothes, the dorm was pretty neat, right down to the perfectly ordered desk—sans laptop.
“Dagger, you’ve got ninety seconds,” Aristede warned.
I scrambled over to the desk, throwing open each drawer. No computer. I lunged for the bed, reaching underneath and pulling out a box labeled Musical Blu-Rays. A few titles caught my eye: Todd’s Weenie: The Demon Stylist of Meat Street, Les Jizz, and Bear Spray. Musical Porn? The next box was labeled Spies and really got my heart cranking. A quick look inside revealed more colorfully titled porn, with a spy theme no less: Missionary’s Possible and The Man from A,N.K.L.E.S. Marco’s been holding out on me. If only I had more time.
“Why are you here, Ginny?” Marco asked.
“… I … warned … him …” Alexei read Ginny’s response.
“Who do you mean?”
“Greek Avenger, you’ve got less than one minute to transmit.” Aristede could be such a Countdown Queen.
I spotted the laptop, peeking out from underneath a pair of jeans on the floor. I dashed for it, ripped it free, yanked the Wi-Fi access port off my necklace, and plugged it in.
“Transmission commencing.”
“… the boy … in … 317 … now.” Alexei paused from reading the board. “Does that mean anything to you guys? 317?”
My stomach lurched.
“317 is my room,” Marco shouted. “Ginny’s telling us there’s someone there right now. I gotta go check it out.”
“Marco, wait!” Cassie cried.
Think Happy Thoughts. Think Happy Thoughts. Think Happy Thoughts.
Download fifty percent complete.
“Forty-five seconds,”Aristede announced.
A knock on the door nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. “Mr. Sandoval, are you there?” It was Professor Delacroix.
Download seventy-five percent complete.
“Thirty seconds remaining.”
Hell. I’d never make it in time. I stared at the computer, willing the download to go faster. C’mon. C’mon.
“Mr. Sandoval, there you are,” came Delacroix’ voice from beyond the door. “And Miss Reyes. You two realize it’s almost curfew, don’t you?”
Alexei was at Cass’s alone. What if he decided to wander into the bedroom?
Download ninety percent complete.
“Twenty seconds remaining,” Aristede reminded.
“We were having a study session at Cassie’s and I forgot one of the text books,” Marco’s voice sounded out of breath.
“We’re sorry, Professor,” Cassie’s tone was muffled. “Guess we lost track of time.”
“Far be it from me to discourage studying,” Delacroix said. “But the odd thing is I thought I heard movement inside Mr. Sandoval’s dormitory. In any event, you left your light on.”
The sound of the lock turning thundered in my ears.
Download ninety-five percent complete.
“Ten seconds remaining,” Aristede warned.
The door opened a few inches.
I was screwed. No way out of this one.
But the door held its position, a shaft of hallway light slicing through the shadows.
“Come to my office to see me after class tomorrow.” Delacroix wasn’t finished yet. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you, Mr. Sandoval.”
“Sure thing, Professor,” came Marco’s disembodied voice.
“And while I admire your study ethic, it’s getting very late. I suggest Ms. Reyes here go back to her room and you continue tomorrow.”
Download complete.
“Transmission received.” Aristede announced. “Signing off Greek Avenger.”
“Goodnight, Professor,” Marco said.
I pulled the necklace free, tossed the jeans back onto the laptop, and slipped out the French doors, just as Marco opened the door behind me.
I tried to control my breathing. How could I have been such an idiot and left the light on? I peered through a corner of the blinds.
Marco was inspecting every inch of the room while Cassie looked on. “That ghost, the girl, Ginny, she was right. Someone was here.”
“How do you know?
“The light was on.”
“Maybe you just forgot to turn it off?”
Marco shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think they found what they were looking for.”
“What do you mean?”
Marco pecked her cheek. “Never mind. You should get back. Delacroix’s on the prowl. And there’s no telling what those two are up to alone at your place.”
He laughed, but even from this vantage point their expressions told me that neither one found the thought amusing.
I climbed over the broken railing and inched my way across the ledge as fast as I could until I reached the spot where the stone had crumbled. Below, the ghostly trio had reappeared, only this time they were rising through the air, heading straight for me.
Shifting my gaze straight ahead, I blocked out the ghosts, Marco, Cassie, Alexei, and concentrated on moving my left leg over the chasm and following with my right. My right foot dislodged more of the stone. My heart stalled for a few seconds before puttering back to life. I made the mistake of looking down. The spectral patients hovered about ten feet below me, arms outstretched, grins wide, flecks of ghostly spittle dissipating in the air. They were determined to welcome the new inmate.
Too bad. I was more of an outpatient kind of guy.
I picked up the pace, shifting across the ledge until my left hand welcomed the cold iron railing of Cassie’s balcony. The ghosts faded into the night like wisps of smoke. Movement to my right caught my attention. Marco’s balcony doors swung outward. If he looked over, he’d see me playing Spiderman.
I hooked my leg over the bars and heaved myself up and over, until my feet were securely planted on Cassie’s terrace. I unclipped my cell, opened the balcony door, and tumbled right into Alexei’s powerful arms.
He grinned. “Dude, we really have to stop meeting like this.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed.
“Sorry. I wasn’t exactly expecting to run into you, either.”
I relaxed in his arms. “What are you doing in Cassie’s bedroom?”
He gave me a final squeeze and released me all too soon. “Cass and Marco ran out of here like bats out of hell because of
one of those Ouija messages. I figured someone better fill you in. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Had he seen me sneaking back onto the balcony? I tried to get a good read but once again that handsome poker face didn’t betray a thing. “Did you get the answers you wanted?”
He stared past me and into the night sky. “Let’s just say I have more questions now.” Then he was back. “Sorry if I interrupted what you were doing.”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed at the cell phone I clutched in my hand. “Your mom. You two having problems?”
I relaxed the grip on my phone. “Yeah. Good ole Mom. It’s been rough.”
“I know how that goes.” His eyes grew distant. “Unfortunately, we can’t always choose whose blood we share.”
Phillipe’s face floated in my mind’s eye. Wonder who floated in Alexei’s?
His smile melted the last of the spectral chill still clinging to me. “You know, Dagger, I really enjoyed hanging with you tonight.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor. Traces of pink betrayed his cheeks.
My heart thudded against my ribs, not all of it due to the evening’s exploits. “So did I. Too bad I had to cut it short.” It was becoming difficult to catch my breath.
He moved closer, his gray eyes finding mine through the pool of moonlight. “Maybe we can get together again real soon.” His head tilted forward. I could feel the heat radiating from him.
My face lifted upward, bringing my lips just inches from his. “I’d like that very much.”
Our eyes closed.
Two loud rings sliced through the moment.
We opened our eyes. Both our cell phones were having a fit.
I checked the caller I.D. on mine. Price. Damn it.
Alexei checked his and shot me a look. “Gotta run, guy. Say good night to Cassie and Marco for me.”
Then he was gone.
I wanted to go after him but my nagging phone held me back. Price wasn’t just calling to make sure I was tucked in for the night.
I activated the holographic receiver. Both Price and Felanie floated before me like two apparitions, their expressions grave, pun intended.
“What’s up, guys?”
“Felanie’s decryption of the Dighton Rock map is complete, Agent Beaumont,” Price said.
“That’s great. Right?”
Her expression gave no indication that it was. “The coordinates led to a location in Mongolia that has been recently excavated.”
“Then someone else already found the book?”
“Apparently. However, our sources have revealed who conducted the excavation and where the book is being kept. The finder is organizing an auction. Agent Tep is on his way to escort you to a transport.”
“Tonight?”
“You’ll be briefed in country,” Felanie replied. “And Dagger, pack a thong.”
“A thong? What for?
“You’re going to Rio de Janeiro.”
Chapter Eleven
Ah, Rio. I unfastened my sash and shrugged off the white robe, letting it slink to the dressing room floor. The air chilled my exposed butt cheeks. I was in a thong all right, Felanie hadn’t been kidding. Emerging from the cotton cocoon pooled at my bare feet, I tried to block out the clamor of the crowd gathered at this posh villa off Guanabara Bay.
“How’s it hanging, hot stuff?” Felanie teased into my comlink.
I tapped the tiny receiver hidden in my ear and whispered through a gritted smile. “The only thing that’s going to be hanging is you, when I get back to base. Couldn’t you have designed an op that was a little less America’s Top Model? I feel so cheap.”
“Working the runway was the only way to get you inside the Villa. Joâo Silva, the recluse who designed the place, is former Reich. He’s installed every conceivable paranormal safeguard to keep out undesirables. The estate is locked down tight.”
I shrugged. “Lucky for us he’s got a weakness for guys’ swimsuit fashion.”
The place reeked of testosterone laden with designer fragrances. Oiled-up bodies bustled about, some clad in Amazonian headdresses, others wearing see-through vests leaving no pectoral contour to the imagination. Serpentine armbands coiled around bulging biceps, while leather anklets wound around sculpted calves.
And the only fashion accessory I’d gotten was the friggin’ pair of sunglasses perched on my dyed blond head.
“Hey Fel, remind me again why I should be thrilled you skimped on the accoutrements?”
“Unlike traditional sunglasses, Multi-Plain Access specs will allow you to spot supernatural entities not visible to the naked human eye. Besides, with a butt like yours, no one’s going to be paying much attention to the trappings. Happy now?”
My cheeks flushed, all four of them. “Gotcha.”
“Any other questions?”
I shifted, trying to reposition the strap in my thong. “Yeah. Who the hell buys this stuff?”
“Você necessita ser pulverizado,” a voice said behind me in Portuguese. Before I could react, two hands dabbed my ass with powder puffs.
“What was that?” Felanie asked.
“Apparently, nothing ruins a catwalk more than a case of shiny ass. My butt’s being powdered like a baby’s. Tell me I’m not going to have to wear a diaper.”
“Depends,” Felanie giggled.
Powder Puff Guy stopped puffing and stood. “Olha bom agora,” he said, giving my butt the seal of approval before moving off.
“Obrigado,” I called my thanks, but he was already fussing over somebody’s six-pack.
A tall figure darted through the glistening limbs siphoned the grin off my face. I caught a burst of long raven hair and a sparkle of seashell necklace. Then the figure was gone, leaving an imprint ingrained in my mind, like the after effect of a flash going off in my eyes. Where had I seen that face before?
“Base Ops, I may have company.”
“Hold for confirmation. We’re running a satellite sweep.”
“Copy that.” My eyes brushed the crowd. Besides the hunks in trunks, I spied the security detail, three impossibly tanned brutes wrapped tightly in black, two posted at stage right and left, the other at the rear by the dressing rooms. Definitely armed by the size of their bulges.
“Dagger, aside from the sentries, we’re not picking up any unusual activity.”
A lean redhead hustled past me, smashing into my shoulder, without looking back. “It’s probably just stage fright. It’s not every day I get to moon an audience.”
“No need to worry. We didn’t have that much time to brief you, but it’s a pretty standard retrieval op.”
“Oh, of course it is. All I have to do is finish my catwalk, exit stage left, take out the sentry, steal his key card, proceed to the restricted upstairs section of the house, bypass security to the office, break into the vault, and steal Il Evanidus. I could do it with my eyes closed.”
“That’s how I usually do it.”
“Still. I’d probably feel a little more relaxed if I was packin’.”
“Honey, judging from the satellite surveillance, it looks like you are.” She paused. “Oh, you meant weapons, didn’t you?”
“Right.”
“You’d never have smuggled a weapon past security. And considering your disguise, the only place to hide something bulky was spoken for. But don’t worry. My enchanted biogear should do the trick.”
I studied the two new tattoos strategically placed on my body, a sharpened blade on my arm and a hissing snake slithering out from the front of my thong to coil just below my hip bone.
I flexed my bicep. “So scratching the arm tat activates the Trans-Dimensional Tracker, right?”
“You got it. The third scratch will release the squadron of microscopic sprites.”
“Whoa. Hold up. You put sprites in me? From what I’ve heard, they aren’t exactly happy-go-lucky nymphs, prancing through meadows spreading joy and pixie dust. These suckers are like piranhas, tearing
into flesh and bone and destroying souls in the process.”
“Relax. This particular lot’s been bred for scanning. Their ability to pass through walls and capture data with their photographic minds renders them undetectable, even by the most sophisticated sorce-tech. They’ll build you a comprehensive schematic of the entire facility in seconds. Just don’t piss them off or they’ll eat you.”
“And the snake tat’s supposed to get me into the vault?”
“Yep. Scratching the serpent tattoo releases the Slitherers, whose pre-cognitive senses and ability to maneuver through locks and tumblers make them capable of circumventing the type of mystical lock Silva installed.”
Looking into the mirror for a last minute check, I brushed a stray strand into place. “Terrific, you’ve also knocked me up with bio-engineered atomic reptilian oracles. At least you didn’t infest me with crabs.”
“I’m saving that for your next op.”
I squelched a chuckle. Knowing Felanie, she might not be joking.
Agostinho, the Fashion Coordinator, weaved through the models like a molting hen. “Lugares todos,” he squealed, our signal to take our places.
“I guess this is my moment in the spotlight,” I whispered to Felanie.
“Honey, you’re already a star as far as I’m concerned.”
Aww. Pulling back my shoulders, I shook my bangs down on my face and puckered my lips. Dagger Beaumont didn’t exist. I was Tristão, model extraordinaire, so cool I didn’t have the need for a surname. Confident, suave.
I spotted the mysterious Raven Hair positioned at the front of the runway line-up. Now was my chance. I tensed my muscles, making sure each one gleamed in the caresses of my key light. Whipping on my sunglasses, I strutted past Agostinho. “Eu necessito ser acima da parte dianteira,” I spat, demanding to go to the front of the line.
“Mas seus lugares têm sido ajustados já,” he called after me, reminding me our places had already been set.
I didn’t care. I was channeling Tristão. He’d feel a strong sense of entitlement, as if the world owed him everything because he’d graced them with the privilege of soaking in his beauty. Agostinho was just an ant, lucky to have escaped the sole of my—Tristao’s—foot. I squeezed between Raven and the rude redhead that had bumped into me earlier without so much as an excuse me.
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