She couldn’t be here. Even if the woman had been released from prison early, she shouldn’t have been able to leave Germany.
No. It’s someone who looks like her. That’s all.
Liesel swung her gaze back to reassure herself.
Two A-list movie stars were close to the woman’s position. Everyone but her was looking at them. The woman was staring right at Wolf.
Scheisse.
Liesel activated her comm. “Katarina Stolzer. Six meters from the door. Blond wig. Glasses. Go.”
While the two other security team members on the carpet hurried ahead, Liesel stepped between her boss and his stalker.
Stolzer’s obsession with Wolf had reached its high point when she’d snuck into one of his homes, armed and claiming they had agreed to a suicide pact. That event had landed the woman in prison.
“We need to go. Now,” Liesel whispered as she motioned for one of the other backup men to approach her.
“What is it?” Wolf asked. Though his tone was hushed and serious, the lighthearted smile remained on his face for the photographers.
“Stolzer.”
The smile faltered. “She’s in jail.”
“She’s here.”
He looked past her to where the other two men had gone.
Liesel put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll go back the way we came and get you to your room.”
“Absolutely not. I’m expected inside. I’m not going to hide.”
Like with the interview questions, she’d known this would be his response. “Fine. Then once it’s safe, we’ll get you there another way. Please, sir.”
He looked annoyed, but let her turn him around. “Walk at a normal pace,” he whispered. “I don’t want to make a scene.”
Liesel instructed the team members who’d joined them to quickly escort Wolf’s date inside. She then guided Wolf back the way they’d come and clicked on her comm. “Did you get Stolzer?”
“We’ve looked all around,” Miguel said. “She’s not here. Are you sure you saw her?”
“Positive. Keep looking.”
With Stolzer on the loose, Liesel wanted to grab Wolf by the arm and rush him inside to someplace safe, but she restrained herself and settled for staying as close to him as she could.
When they reached the start of the carpet, Liesel guided her boss toward a row of glass doors that had been closed to the public for the event. They were guarded but not locked.
“Open the door,” she ordered as they neared one of the security men.
The guard, recognizing Wolf, yanked the door open.
An onslaught of dinging slot machines and human voices flooded over them as they stepped inside. A row of security guards stood five meters beyond the doors, facing the casino floor so they could point people to another exit.
Though Liesel visited the hotel only a few times a year when her boss had business there, she knew the layout well. Awareness of one’s surroundings was critical to her job. She walked the buildings her boss visited frequently to see all the nooks and crannies with her own eyes.
Because of this, she knew there was an employee-only service corridor to the left, just past the guards, and inside that half a dozen rooms in which she could keep Wolf until the danger had passed.
No longer needing to maintain a calm demeanor for the press, Liesel hustled Wolf toward the security line. “Move, move, move,” she ordered the guards.
Wolf was once again recognized and the guards stepped to the side.
A few of the patrons popping coins into slot machines looked over as Liesel hauled her boss along the walkway by the wall, but most continued donating their money to the casino without a glance.
The entrance to the employee service hall was inset about a meter into the wall and needed an authorized keycard to open. As a trusted member in Wolf’s protection staff, Liesel possessed a card that would open any door in the building, including her boss’s suite. She slapped it against the reader and shoved the door open the instant it buzzed.
They passed the toilets first—she refused to fall into the American habit of camouflaging what they were by calling them restrooms—then a couple of large storage closets that would have sufficed as safe rooms if the office of one of the assistant catering managers wasn’t just ahead. The office had chairs, a phone, and, most importantly, a computer Liesel could use to access the security system and monitor the hallway.
She pulled the door open, ready to kick the assistant manager out, but no one was there. After locking the door, she propped one of the guest chairs under the handle. When she turned around, she saw Wolf about to sit in the manager’s chair behind the desk.
“The other one. That’s mine.” She nodded at the computer to convey why.
With a wry smile, he circled back to the guest chair. “You’d better be right about this.”
“No. Better if I’m wrong.”
She took the desk chair and logged into the computer, using her security override. The camera feed from the outside hall showed two employees walking toward the far end, but that was it.
She turned on her mic again. “Update.”
She waited several seconds, but there was no response.
“Miguel? Thomas?”
Nothing.
She clicked the button a couple of times to make sure the batteries hadn’t died. She could hear the electronic snap so the mic was on.
“Miguel, report.”
No response.
She reached for the phone to call casino security, but before she could lift the handset, she heard the door to the supply closet behind her swing open.
She swiveled around as she rose.
“I’ve been watching you,” Katarina Stolzer said from the closet threshold. She held in her right hand a Smith & Wesson pistol. Liesel thought it was probably a 9mm but it was hard to tell, because taped to the end of the barrel was a large plastic cola bottle, stuffed with what looked like paper. A homemade suppressor that would likely catch fire when used. “I knew this is where you would come. Closest room to the red carpet that you could secure. They said you were predictable, and they were right, weren’t they?”
Calmly, Liesel said, “Katarina, there’s no reason for you—”
“Weren’t they?” Stolzer demanded again, raising the gun. She didn’t point it at Liesel, but at Wolf.
“Yes. You are right. I am predictable.” As she spoke, Liesel began inching to the side to shield her boss.
“Stop or I’ll shoot him right now!”
Liesel stopped. “No reason for anyone to get hurt. Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk.”
“I’m not an idiot! If I put it down, you won’t give me the chance to talk.”
“Put it down, Katarina,” Wolf said. “I know you don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Anger flared in the woman’s eyes. “Shut up! And don’t you call me Katarina. You have lost that privilege. You don’t know anything about me, do you? I thought you did once, but you know nothing! You just wanted to put me away. You wanted everyone to think I was crazy. After all we meant to each other, how could you do that?”
“I never wanted—”
“Shut up!”
With zero hesitation, Liesel flung herself over the desk chair and reached for the suppressor.
At the same moment she heard the barely muted bang, Liesel felt the bullet pierce the soft tissue just below her collarbone and then burst from her back an inch from her neck. As she fell to the floor, Katarina shouted, “No!”
The woman rushed past the desk, out of Liesel’s sightline.
Grunting in pain, Liesel rocked onto her knees and staggered to her feet, knowing she needed to stop Stolzer before the woman could hurt Wolf. But Liesel was already too late. Her boss lay back in the guest chair, a bullet hole two centimeters above his right eye.
Katarina dropped to her knees next to him and tried to pull him into her arms.
“Leave him alone,” Liesel said.
Katari
na turned to her, her face darkening as if just remembering Liesel was also in the room.
“You did this! You killed him! You took him from me!”
Stolzer rushed at Liesel and rammed into her chest, knocking her against the wall. Before Liesel could recover, Katarina snatched a pen off the desk and jammed it into Liesel’s wound.
The whole world turned electric white. Liesel slid to the floor, her consciousness slipping away.
She could hear Katarina raging at her, but the words meant nothing.
Liesel’s vision began going in and out.
Gray.
Stolzer sitting at the desk.
Gray.
Stolzer hunched over something, as if reading a book.
Gray.
Stolzer holding something in her hand.
Gray.
A bang. The desk, but Stolzer no longer there.
Gray, this time turning darker and darker and darker until there was nothing.
11
OFFICE OF THE ADMINISTRATOR
THE ADMINISTRATOR HUNG up his phone, stunned.
There was, of course, a set of rules in place for dealing with what had just happened, but he had never expected to implement them.
But implement them he must.
He opened the video chat and clicked the button that would connect him to his boss.
Committee member Monday accepted the call after the fourth ring. “Good evening.” He was dressed in a tux and had answered on his smartphone. From the scene behind him and the noise, it appeared he was at a party. “If you can wait a moment, I’ll find someplace private. Unless that’s not necessary.”
“Unfortunately, sir, it is.”
“I’ll get right back to you.”
Two minutes passed before the Administrator’s computer buzzed with the return call.
“What’s going on?” Monday asked. He appeared to be in a bedroom. All the noise from before was gone.
“Thursday has been murdered.”
“What?”
As succinctly as possible, the Administrator related what he’d learned of the situation involving the now late Committee member Thursday, known to the world as Hans Wolf.
Monday cradled his forehead. Wolf had been one of the first he’d recruited, and someone whose judgment Monday had trusted implicitly. His would be a large hole to fill.
“Dear God. Do we know how this Stolzer woman even got to him?”
“I will be having people look into it, but I wanted to notify you first.”
“I appreciate that.” Monday grimaced. “Perhaps we should suspend operations. I need time to process this.”
The Administrator had anticipated this response. “I understand, sir, but I would argue against doing so. The team is already in the process of being collected. If we suspend now, we will risk losing the opportunity of bringing them into the fold.”
“Operating without the full board, especially now, is not ideal.”
“It is a problem, sir, but we created protocols that will guide us if issues arise.”
“I think what bothers me most is the timing. I don’t like it.”
“Nor do I.”
“We need to know if this was coincidental or a shot at us.”
“Absolutely.”
Monday took another moment. “You’re right. We continue. Please keep me posted of any changes.”
“Sir, one last thing.”
“Yes?”
“The woman.”
“The woman?”
“The one Thursday was so high on. Perhaps we can bring her on in his memory.”
Another pause, and then a nod. “Not a bad idea. What about the candidate we already selected for that position?”
“That operation has just begun, so it can be easily aborted.”
“If you think that’s feasible, let’s do it.”
“Should I call an emergency board meeting?”
“Everyone needs to know about Thursday, but I’d rather you call them individually. Let’s wait on telling them about the woman until she’s already in place. If anyone raises an objection, you can say that there was a problem with our primary candidate and you had to go with an alternate. Have an answer ready that will stand up to any scrutiny.”
“Yes, sir.”
12
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
LIESEL WASN’T SURE what she picked up on first—the odor of antiseptic or the rhythmic beeps of medical monitoring equipment. Either way, it meant only one thing.
Eyes still shut, she listened for signs of anyone nearby, but the beeps were her only company.
She parted her eyelids and confirmed she was alone in a hospital room. There was a window to her left, and through it she could see the twinkling lights of a neon city.
Las Vegas.
What was she doing in Las Vegas? In a hospital? What could have—
Her breath caught in her throat.
Mein Gott!
Memories flashed in her mind.
Katarina Stolzer, gun in hand.
Liesel’s shoulder, lanced by a bullet.
Hans Wolf, a hole in his head.
It was my job to keep him alive.
She tensed. Had the police caught his killer? Or was Stolzer on the run? If the woman was still out there, Liesel had to go after her. The woman had to pay for what she’d done.
Liesel looked around until she spotted the mounted call button. Since her right arm was strapped to her chest, she reached with her left. Rather, she attempted to reach with her left, but was prevented from doing so by the handcuff securing it to the bed’s railing.
Why would she be restrained? The only wrong thing she’d done was fail to keep her boss alive. While she would have to live with that horror for the rest of her life, it was not a crime.
She tried to shout, “Hello,” in English to get someone’s attention, but her dry throat caused her voice to crack. After a few swallows, she was able to shout loudly enough to get a response.
The young police officer who stuck his head in the room said, “Finally awake, huh?”
“Why am I…” Her mind still hazy, she couldn’t remember the word she wanted, so she raised her left hand and rattled the cuff against the bar.
“The detectives will be back soon. You can ask them whatever you want.” He shut the door.
She called again several times. When the door reopened, a stern-faced nurse came in. She took Liesel’s vital signs, examined the wound, and redressed it. Though Liesel barraged her with questions, the nurse never responded.
Not long after she left, two men in suits entered and introduced themselves as Detectives Ferris and Montrose. She put them both in their forties, with Ferris the older of the two.
“Your lawyer not here yet?” Ferris asked.
“My lawyer?”
“He was here this morning. Mr….” He turned to his partner. “What the hell was his name?”
“I think he said Ramsey,” Montrose said.
The older man smiled. “That’s right. Ramsey.” He looked back at Liesel. “So, has he come back yet?”
“I do not know a Mr. Ramsey,” she said.
“Is that right? Huh. Would you be willing to answer a few questions while we wait for him?”
“No, she wouldn’t, Detective.” The words came from a third man who had just entered the room, his suit considerably more expensive than the cops’, more like something Hans Wolf would wear.
“Well, there you are, counselor,” Ferris said. “Seems your client here doesn’t know who you are.”
“That’s because we’ve never met. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a few minutes alone with Miss Kessler.”
The detectives didn’t look happy, but they vacated the room.
Once the door was shut, Ramsey pulled a chair over to her bed and sat down.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said in flawless German. “How are you feeling?”
“Who are you?”
“You heard Detectiv
e Ferris. I’m your lawyer.”
“Who sent you? Someone from the company?”
“Oh, God, no. I’m pretty sure no one there wants anything to do with you.”
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“Because you’ve been implicated in Mr. Wolf’s murder.”
“W-w-what? But I had nothing to do with it!”
“Were you there?”
“I was, but—”
“Then you had something to do with it.”
“I had something to do with trying to stop it, yes.”
He pointed at her shoulder. “Is that how you received the wound?”
She nodded. “I tried to grab Katarina Stolzer, but she pulled the trigger before I could reach her.” Eyes hardening, she added, “She’s the one who killed him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What happened after she pulled the trigger?”
“The bullet went through me and hit Mr. Wolf.”
“That is unfortunate.”
Her brow furrowed. “Unfortunate? He’s dead, Mr. Ramsey. Unfortunate doesn’t even come close to describing it.”
He smiled sympathetically. “I understand your feelings, and I’m sorry if I offended you.” He paused. “But you have a bigger problem to worry about right now than being concerned about what words I use. When Mr. Wolf’s and Miss Stolzer’s bodies were found—”
“Stolzer? She’s dead?”
“You didn’t know that? She took her own life with the same gun that did that to you.”
“I-I-I heard a second shot, but I blacked out.”
“Miss Stolzer left a note in which she thanked you for arranging to get her inside the hotel and for bringing Mr. Wolf to her.”
“I did no such thing! I was the one who saw her. I was trying to hide Mr. Wolf from her.”
“Two men from your security detail have said you sent them to look for her.”
“I did send them.”
“In what turned out to be the exact opposite direction from where Stolzer was.”
“I saw her standing near the doors in a blond wig and wearing sunglasses. That’s where I sent them!”
The Excoms Page 6
