CHAPTER 32
Michael and Busch rode up the elevator to their rooms in the Venetian; each carried a large duffel over his shoulders, looking as if they were just arriving for their stay. They entered Michael’s suite and dumped the bags on the bed. Michael looked at his watch; it was just after 10:00.
Busch reached into his duffel and pulled out four coils of climbing rope, three climbing harnesses, carabiner clips, and descenders; three knives; and three Lycra jumpsuits.
Michael opened his bag and removed a reed-thin flexible tube, a small diamond-tipped drill, and several black electronic boxes. Then he pulled out an oversized briefcase, a book-sized metal box with a long, protruding wire, and two Venetian key cards.
“Before we do this, I need the answers to a few questions.”
“Such as?” Busch said as he grouped the equipment together.
“Where the hell did Lucas get such detailed information on KC and me?”
“I don’t know, Interpol—”
“Bullshit, I’m not ever on their radar, neither is KC. Lucas has too much intimate knowledge. He knew about jobs I committed that the places I hit didn’t even know had happened. He knew about the Vatican, the Kremlin, Topkapi Palace. He knew KC’s gigs as if he were there.”
“Well, who knows so much about you guys?”
“Just KC, Simon, and you.”
Busch nodded, thinking. “I’ve got to admit, I’d sell you out, but not to the government. I mean, please, they’re known as the lowest bidder.” Busch smiled. “It’s not Simon, and it sure as shit isn’t KC.”
“Exactly. So if we somehow squeeze out of this, what’s stopping that info from getting out? I’ve got to get my hands on the source and shut it down. Not so much for me, but for KC.”
“Okay.” Busch nodded. “But that’s a barrel of fun for some other day; right now we need to stay focused on getting KC back. And since I know you, and I’m not telling you to tell me how, tell me you’ve got a plan to screw this guy over, to bury his and his comrade’s asses and still get the girl.”
Michael smiled.
“That’s all I needed to see,” Busch said, and laughed.
Michael checked his gear, flipping on the small black box to see its display illuminate with altitude and positioning readouts. He flipped it off, laid it on his bed, and grabbed one of the key cards.
“What’s that?”
“It’s my God key.”
Busch’s expression said he didn’t understand.
“I hacked their security, encoded this to let me pretty much go wherever God can go, at least with respect to the rooms.”
“Awesome, so where’re we going?”
“We’re going to see KC.”
MICHAEL SLIPPED THE dummy key card in the door and the latch released.
He and Busch walked in to find Lucas sitting in his suite, a food cart off to the side, eating a steak as he read through a file.
“Michael,” Lucas said, unfazed by his illegal entrance. “Have you come to tell me about your plan?” Lucas put down his fork, closed the file, and stared at Busch, assessing his large size.
“Where’s KC?” Michael asked.
Lucas stared at Michael.
“I want to talk to her, and I want to talk to her now.”
“Well, if you thought you’d find her in here, you’re mistaken.” Lucas rose from his chair and approached them.
“I want to know that she’s alive and unharmed.”
“Not happening,” Lucas said.
“Oh, it most certainly is,” Michael said. “You with the power of your government, the power of guns for hire, and the underworld—make it happen.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Really? It seems you had no problem getting a video of her in the airport in New York. Get the video feed. You built a file on us like you read our minds, so—”
Busch’s arm shot out, grabbing Lucas by the throat and slamming him into the wall, pinning him there.
“I want answers,” Michael said as he walked to within inches of Lucas’s face.
Lucas looked between the two men, unfazed by Busch’s attack as he was pressed against the wall.
“Who gave you the files on KC and me?” Michael continued.
“Safe to say, you came highly recommended,” Lucas said as he kept his arms at his side, offering no resistance, making no attempt to escape.
“I want to know.”
“That’s classified.”
“Bullshit,” Busch yelled, his large hand trembling around Lucas’s neck. “You know way too much.”
“Mr. Busch, I know far more than you realize.” Lucas paused. “How is your wife, Jeannie? Your two kids?”
Busch’s eyes filled with rage as they bored into Lucas.
“I’d answer his question,” Busch said as he squeezed the colonel’s throat. “Or it’s going to get real hard to swallow.”
The door flew open, Jon rolling into the room, his gun drawn. He quickly leaped the ten feet between them and thrust the muzzle into the back of Busch’s head.
“Let him go,” Jon whispered to Busch. “I’m only going to tell you once.”
Busch’s eyes remained locked with Lucas’s, his hand squeezing, Lucas turning red.
Michael laid his hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Let him go.”
Busch reluctantly released him.
Lucas rubbed his neck, flexing his jaw. Jon didn’t remove the gun.
“You were never part of this equation,” Jon said. “I should shoot you now—”
“Shoot him and all deals are off,” Michael said.
“Really, all deals are off?” Lucas said raspily. “Would you trade the life of the woman you love for your best friend?”
“Excuse me?” Michael spun about.
“If you had to choose between the two, who would you save? Answer me,” Lucas said softly.
Busch turned to Michael, the gun at the back of his head. “It’s okay.”
The moment dragged on.
Lucas exploded, “Answer me!”
“Kill me,” Michael said as he slowly reached out, grabbed the barrel of Jon’s gun and pulled it from Busch’s head toward himself.
Lucas stared at Michael, assessing him, then turned to Jon and nodded. Jon lowered his gun. Lucas went to his bed and dug through his bag; he pulled out an iPad and file and laid them on a table before Michael.
“You’re an interesting man: brave, honorable, like a true soldier,” Lucas said as he continued to rub his neck. “So I’m going to give you a choice.”
Lucas pushed the iPad toward Michael. “You can have a little video chat with your girlfriend or”—Lucas put his hand upon the file, his eyes darting between Busch and Michael—“I’ll tell you which of your friends revealed everything about the two of you.”
Michael looked at Lucas.
“I want you to understand that no matter how smart you think you are,” Lucas said, “how far ahead of me you have planned, I control the situation, I control KC… and I control you.” Lucas looked at the iPad and file. “You’ve got five seconds to decide, then you get nothing.”
MICHAEL HELD THE iPad in his hand, the green light of the camera lit but the screen still black. He sat alone in his room. Busch, Lucas, and Jon had gone to Busch’s suite to allow Michael some privacy.
KC’s face suddenly filled the screen. The image was dark, the room nondescript. Her eyes were red with exhaustion.
“Michael!” KC said. “Thank God.”
“KC, are you all right?” Michael asked.
“I’m fine,” she said as she wiped her long blond hair from her face. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Michael stared at her, her image as clear as if she were right in front of him. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time: her green eyes, her blond hair, her perfect lips. But as he looked closer he noticed her coloring was off, her face pale and worn. Then his eyes fell on the red stain on h
er white collar. And his anger rose…
“Is that blood on your shirt? So help me God—”
“Relax, I had a bloody nose.”
“You don’t get bloody noses.” Michael’s heart began to beat. “How do you feel?”
“Heartbroken,” KC said quietly.
“Physically?”
“Tired. It’s not like I’ve been getting much sleep. Don’t worry about that.”
But Michael was worried. In all the time he had known KC she never had even a runny nose and an instinctual fear grew within him.
“Where are they holding you?” KC asked.
“Macau. Do you have any idea where you are?”
“Beijing—”
“Beijing? What are you doing there?”
“They’re making me steal an artifact from the Forbidden City; they said they will kill you if I don’t.”
“Mmmm, sounds familiar.”
“You, too?”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Can you get away?”
“Can you?”
“Paul’s here,” Michael said, diverting her attention.
“How come you get to bring help?” KC smiled. “Tell him I said hi. You should see my help.”
“You mean Annie?”
“You know her?” KC said with surprise. “She wouldn’t be a former girlfriend or anything, would she?”
“Be careful,” Michael said, brushing off her comment. “I watched her kill a man in cold blood.”
“Yeah,” KC said. “Me, too. Don’t worry, though, she underestimates me.”
“I made that mistake once.” Michael smiled.
“And look at where that got you.”
Michael was doing everything he could not to break. Seeing KC as if she were right in front of him filled him with a welter of emotions. Relief that she was alive, but a confirmation of his fear knowing she was with Annie, knowing that Annie would kill her once she was done with her.
“Listen to me. If you get that artifact, whatever it may be, you hold on to it, that’s your leverage. Once you give that up, they no longer have a need for you.”
KC nodded. “And you?”
“It’s me.” Michael smiled. “Don’t worry about me.”
The moment dragged on, both searching for the right thing to say.
“I’m so sorry,” KC said.
“Hey, not now.”
“If something happens, I need you to know—”
“I love you,” Michael said softly. “Always know that.”
“If I didn’t leave—”
“If I didn’t go to Italy…” Michael stopped her and looked deep into her eyes. “This is all my fault.”
“No…” KC smiled. “We’re just paying the price for helping a friend. These people… they are the ones at fault, not you.”
“Were you really running away?” Michael asked. “Were you really going to stay in England?”
“Were you going to come and get me?” KC said. “I was kind of looking forward to the chase.”
Michael smiled as if there were no problems, as if death wasn’t hanging over their heads.
And then Michael saw it, a slight trickle of blood on her left nostril. “What if we both cut and run?” KC asked, unaware of the blood.
“No.” Michael shook his head, trying to stay focused. “You can’t take that risk. Annie might be underestimating you, but don’t you dare underestimate her. KC, I can’t lose you. I will not go through that again.”
“Michael—”
“You listen to me, you get that artifact, hold on to it, and you stay alive, no matter what,” Michael said. “Because I’m coming to get you.”
LUCAS AND JON walked back down the hallway, the iPad tucked under Jon’s arm. They had left Michael to ponder KC. Lucas had always intended for Michael to see her, to talk to her; it would help to keep him focused.
Returning to his room, Lucas opened the door and saw a large gift-wrapped package on the center table by the window.
“What’s that?” Lucas said.
Jon halted Lucas by the door as he walked to and inspected the package. He ran his hands over it, sniffed it, looked beneath the table.
“Nobody knows I’m here,” Lucas said.
“That’s not true,” Jon said, looking up at Lucas. “Is it?”
“My girlfriend’s arrival was unexpected,” Lucas continued, staring at the blue gift-wrapped box from across the room. “How did you know?”
“We have a hack into the phone line on all of our rooms, including yours; it’s security protocol. She called you earlier, left you a note.” Jon paused, seeing Lucas’s annoyance at the invasion of his privacy. “Though it is good to see you have a girlfriend.”
Lucas nodded, his focus still on the package.
“You think it’s from her?” Lucas said.
“You would know better than I would.”
Lucas approached the box, studying it.
“While it may help as your cover,” Jon said, “her being here is a mistake.”
“I’ll talk to her; she’ll be gone before anything happens. Anything else you want to criticize me on?”
“No, sir,” Jon said.
Lucas turned his attention back to the box.
“I doubt it’s a bomb,” Jon said. “That’s not the style in Macau, of the Triads, and certainly not of Xiao.”
“You’re paid to find that out,” Lucas said in a commanding voice.
Jon looked at the box, laid his ear to it, listening. And then the smell caught him: earthy, familiar. He tore off the paper to reveal an elegant Tiffany-style box, taped along its seams. He pulled out his knife and ran it through the taped edge, opening the box, staring in at its contents.
He held his breath as he turned around, circling the box, his eyes fixed on the item within.
He finally looked up at Lucas, the moment hanging in the air, then reached in and pulled out Ken Reiner’s head.
Holding it up, Jon examined the base of Reiner’s severed head; the skin’s edge was smooth, as if the execution had been surgically performed.
“We know this was not done by a scalpel, so the blade was either a jian or a katana, the edge near perfect. Reiner never felt a thing.”
“Shit,” Lucas said.
“Xiao’s here,” Jon said without emotion. “We need to move you and we need to move you now.”
Without another word, they left the suite and went to Jon’s room. “No phones, room, cell, or otherwise,” Jon said. “We need to move you to a different floor.”
“Do me a favor, then: Find Pamela Weiss. She was to meet me at my room after dinner.”
Jon pulled out his pistol and handed it to Lucas. “Keep it with you. If anyone comes in and you don’t know them, shoot; if in doubt, shoot anyway.” Jon nodded as he headed out the door. “I’m going to arrange for some protection.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Your bodyguard would disagree.”
As Jon left the suite, Lucas locked the door behind him and ran his hand across his face. He stepped into the bathroom and ran water in the sink. Wetting a washcloth, he wiped his brow, his cheeks, the back of his neck, and finally looked in the mirror…
And saw the small trickle of blood running from his nose.
PAM BOARDED THE elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. It had been nearly three weeks since she’d last seen Isaac. He’d disappeared on some assignment and had to run back to the U.S. to handle some additional military business.
She missed him. She missed his warmth, being held in his arms. Isaac was a serious man not known for smiles or laughter. But when they were alone, when the world was quiet, she had a way of drawing out a smile, making him lose himself for hours on end, awakening in him a momentary joy where he could seek solace from his life. She recognized the deep pain he held; he had told her of his life, of his mother and what his father had done. And he had told her of his brother, of how he had killed their father in front of him.
&nbs
p; She couldn’t deny her attraction to a man in uniform. It was so cliché, but when that uniform represented a colonel in the U.S. Army, when it was respected the world over, it created an allure that she couldn’t deny. It represented strength and power, command and confidence, all the traits a woman seeks in a man. It was a level of success achieved through hard work and dedication, a recognition of achievement by an assessment of character. The façade of so many men, in law, in business, captains of industry dressed for success in designer suits, was but that, a façade. Their station in life hadn’t been achieved by putting their life on the line for their principles and ideals, for their country and others. It had been arrived at through self-promotion, personal greed, without care for others.
Isaac’s and Pam’s relationship was eight years in the making. Neither of them sought the false commitment of a wedding ring or felt they needed to make vows before God in order to love each other. They knew how they felt and were comfortable with that, trusting in each other through their deeds and actions. She would surprise him with unannounced visits; he would send her just-because gifts like the jade and ivory comb that had been his mother’s, gifts from the heart as opposed to some last-minute online purchase.
As with Isaac, the world was Pam’s office. Working for Nascent Global, she was in charge of compliance, so her work could take her to Europe, Asia, the Americas. She had accumulated a rather substantial portfolio not just from her generous salary and bonuses, but through the shrewd investment of her inheritance. She had lavish apartments in Tokyo, Hong Kong, New York, London, Paris, and L.A., each with a full complement of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories, which allowed her to travel light yet maintain appearances. She was a woman of the world, and the only time she ever felt roots was when she was with Isaac.
They had made a pact that when Isaac had completed his current assignment they would each plan for their retirement in a year’s time. Isaac had assured her that once he completed his current dealings he would be able to put the darkness behind him.
The Thieves of Legend Page 23
