Top Secret Twenty-One (15 page)

“Yep. It’s peachy.”

I hurried out of the ladies’ room, took a deep breath, and set out across the room with what I hoped was a confident stride. Stephanie Plum, cunning sexpot, about to embark on a dangerous mission.

“What do you think?” I asked Ranger when I reached the high-top.

“Babe, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

I actually had a pretty good idea what he was thinking, since his pupils were totally dilated. Like maybe we should forget about the two Russians at the bar and get a room. And now that I was slutted up and getting into the role, I was having similar thoughts. Problem was, undressing was going to be awkward.

“You do realize that I have half a roll of toilet paper stuffed into my bra?”

“I wouldn’t share that with the men at the bar,” Ranger said. He gave me a tiny earbud. “You can stay connected to me with this.”

“Will you be able to hear what I’m saying?”

“Yes.”

I stuck the earbud in my ear and sashayed over to the bar. I took the barstool next to one of the Russians and crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up to a couple inches below my doo-dah, and asked the bartender for a champagne cocktail.

Conversation stopped, and both men looked my way. The man next to me smiled wide, displaying a gold-capped molar. He said something in Russian, and I did a palms-up display of
I no speak that language
. I accompanied the palms-up with a giggle, and I jiggled around a little. It was like airhead bimbo–meets–ADHD Pomeranian.

“My name Leo Stolchi,” he said. Heavy accent. “I sees you do not speak Russian.”

“Honey, I have enough problems with English.”

This got a big laugh, and his eyes tracked down to my boobs and from there went on to my crotch, which was demurely hidden by a small amount of black skirt fabric.

“You are very pretty,” he said.

“Well, thank you,” I said. “Aren’t you sweet.”

My drink arrived, and Leo told the bartender to put it on his bill.

“And
generous
,” I said.

Leo looked unsure of “generous.”

“What is ‘generous’?” he asked.

“It’s like … rich. You must be rich.”

The smile was back. “Yes! Very, very rich.”

“How did you make all your money?”

“Vodka,” he said. “I makes the best.”

I glanced over at Ranger and smiled. Jackpot.

“Do you know that man?” Leo asked.

“He’s a friend of the family,” I said.

“He look like a bad man.”

“He has his moments.”

No sound came over the earbud from Ranger, but I thought I sensed him smile.

“Are you staying at this hotel?” I asked Leo.

“Yes. It close to the consulate building where will take place the meetings. There is party soon.”

“I love parties,” I said.

“This a good one. They serving my vodka.” He looked at his watch. “I should be going.”

Damn! I was losing him. I put my hand on his leg. “That’s too bad. We were just getting to know each other.”

“It no will be long,” he said. “Two hours.”

My hand moved an inch closer to a place I really didn’t want to go, and I leaned forward to give him a better look at the girls. “My friend has to leave, and I would be here all alone.”

“I would stay but this important party.”

Good grief, this guy was dense! “I could go with you,” I said. “And then we can have our own private party when we come back to the hotel.”

His eyes opened wide. “Yes! That is perfect plan.”

“Last week I met a Russian named Vlatko,” I said. “Do you know any men named Vlatko?”

“Vlatko is much common name in Russia.”

“This man had an unusual tattoo on his neck. And he might only have one eye.”

“I know a Vlatko what has his initials tattooed on forehead,” Leo said. “This must be different Vlatko.”

“Have you been inside the consulate building already?”

“Only for the short times yesterday. I went to register.” He signed the tab over to his room and got off the barstool. “What about family friend?”

“Maybe he could come to the party with us. He loves vodka.”

“I guesses that would be okay. He isn’t going to have the party with us
after
, is he?”

“Not unless you want him to. He’s gay, you know.”

“He doesn’t look gay.”

“Of course he does. His skin is flawless and his haircut is perfect. And look at his slacks. Not a single wrinkle.”

“How does he do that?” Leo asked. “I always get the wrinkles.”

We stopped at Ranger’s table and invited him to join us at the party. He dropped some money on the table and stood.

Leo stared at Ranger’s slacks and gave me a sideways glance of acknowledgment. No wrinkles.

THE MAN AT
the consulate door checked Leo’s invitation, and there was a brief conversation.

“No problems,” Leo said to me. “You and your friend comes in. I very important vodka magnate.”

The party was being held in a large room on the ground floor. The room was decorated in reds and golds. Oriental rugs. Antique-looking furniture in dark woods and brocaded fabrics. Very formal. Waiters in white shirts and black slacks were passing appetizers. A bar with two bartenders was set up at the far side of the room.

People were pouring in from the street. The men were in suits, and the women were in cocktail dresses. Average age for the men was fifty. More difficult to assess the women. It looked to me like a lot of the women were mid-level to high-end hookers. I figured I fit into the mid-level range.

Leo tugged me over to the bar. “You see bottle with red label? That is my vodka. You must drink some.”

Ranger had already wandered off on his own to snoop through the five floors. I was left with the vodka king.

“It’s a pretty bottle,” I said.

“It made in China. They makes the best bottles. They add lead to make sparkle.” He took two glasses of vodka from the bartender and passed one to me. He chugged his, and I sipped at mine. It burned all the way down, and I felt like my sinus cavities were on fire.

“Smooth,” I said.

His eyes fixed on my bulging breasts. “Like mother’s milk.”

“Yep, that’s what I was thinking.” I looked around. “Do you know any of these people?”

His eyes were still focused on my chest. “I knows some of them. It is small world where is Russian vodka makers.”

“If you’d like to talk to some of the people here, I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll just stay here and drink vodka.”

“I should do this,” he said. “Do not go away. I haves big plans. Leo that kind of guy. I much known to be big.”

“Good to know.”

He stepped away, and I checked in with Ranger. “Where are you?” I asked him.

“Third floor. Checking my email. Don’t drink too much vodka.”

“Just trying to increase my lead consumption. Over and out.”

I had the bartender swap out my vodka for water, and I
drifted around the room, eavesdropping. No one seemed especially interested in talking to me, but everyone stared at my chest. The women studied me with critical eyes. No doubt making surgical comparisons. The men smiled their approval. I didn’t have the biggest breasts in the room, but I think I had the most enthusiastic. Almost everyone was speaking Russian, so I wasn’t doing great in the information gathering department. I refrained from snacking on the appetizers that were being passed, just in case Vlatko had a grudge against vodka salesmen.

Leo looked at me from across the room, and I gave him a flirty finger wave. I felt a little bad about leading him on like this, but what the heck, he probably had a wife and five kids back in Russia, and he deserved to be lied to.

For lack of something better to do, I went in search of the ladies’ room. I adjusted my toilet paper and put on fresh lipstick. I found some hair clips in my bag and used them to secure my hair so that it wasn’t fluffing out all over my face.

“How’s it going?” I asked Ranger.

“I’m on the top floor, and I’m limited by the security cameras everywhere.”

As I ran water to wash my hands, my earbud fell out of my ear and went down the drain.

“Crap!”

I hauled my cellphone out of my bag and texted Ranger.
Bad news. Your earbud just went down the drain in the ladies’ room
.

It was only a matter of time,
he texted back.

I left the ladies’ room, and as I stepped out into the long
hallway that led to the front of the building, a man came out of nowhere, slammed me into the wall, and held me there with one hand at my neck.

“I know who you are,” he said. “Nice of Manoso to deliver you like this.”

He had a slight British accent and a skull and flower tattoo showing just above his white shirt collar. It was Vlatko. He was younger than I’d expected. Not much older than Ranger. Slightly shorter and slimmer than Ranger. More boyish-looking. In fact, he could probably pass for a college student until you looked closely and saw the network of fine lines around his eyes. A psychopath you would be inclined to trust. Ash blond hair fell over his forehead. One of his eyes was covered with a black patch like a pirate’s. The other was pale blue. A ragged scar showed above and below the patch.

I wanted to say something clever to show I wasn’t afraid, but my heart was pounding so hard in my chest it was rattling my brain, and I was speechless.

“He’s in the building,” Vlatko said. “I saw him on the outside video feed. He’s searching for me, isn’t he?” He smiled. “In many ways this is much more fun than if everyone had been infected with the aerosol.”

“Why are you doing this after all these years?”

“Convenience. I’ve kept an eye on Manoso, waiting for an opportunity to even the score and finish the job I started. And here it is. It was dropped into my lap. I had a job to do in Miami, where, as you know, Manoso has many relatives. And when my Miami job was completed I was scheduled to travel to
New York. It was perfect. I convinced my superior that I would need an extra canister for a test run, and then I sourced out someone from Miami who could place the polonium for me in the Rangeman building.”

“This was a test?”

“It was a dry run of sorts to see if the polonium would work, and obviously the scheme was flawed. Truth is, we all had some doubts. Too many variables. And using an amateur to deliver a package like that is too unreliable.”

“So you’re done with Ranger?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “No. I’m only beginning. I’m going to kill him, but I’ll torture him first. I’ll let him watch you die, and then I’ll finish the work I started on him in Korea. It will be even more satisfying than the radiation poisoning I originally planned. Although polonium is a very elegant assassination tool.”

“That’s sick.”

“Not in my profession.”

“Your profession is sick!”

“You need something to show Manoso,” he said. “A small appetizer before he’s treated to the main course.”

He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, flicked it open, and, still holding me against the wall with his left hand, slashed my right breast. The knife easily cut through the silky material of my shirt and my bra, and a huge wad of toilet paper fell out.

“Jeez,” I said. “This is embarrassing.”

“Unsatisfying and disappointing,” Vlatko said, “but consistent with the intelligence report I got on you.”

A woman left the party room and turned toward us. Two men also left the party room and walked toward the front entrance. Vlatko spun on his heel and, without another word, exited through a door across the hall.

I went back to the ladies’ room and with shaking hands pulled the rest of the toilet paper out of my bra and buttoned my suit jacket. I texted Ranger that Vlatko was in the building and I was leaving. I would meet him in front.

I left the ladies’ room and walked past the party room without even waving at Leo. He was going to have to figure it out on his own. I exited the building, and Ranger was moments behind me.

“He’s probably watching us on the outside video feed,” I said.

“I pulled the plug on the feed, but he could be watching from a window.” He looked at the suit jacket buttoned over my vastly reduced chest. “You lost some weight.”

“Long story. I’ll tell you in the car.”

Ranger gave me his keys. “Take the car and go home, and feel free to use it until I come for it. I’m going to stay and stake out the building. There’s no rear exit. He has to come out this way.”

“I can stay with you.”

“Not necessary. I’ve already asked Tank to send men. They should be halfway here by now.”

“Vlatko wants to finish the job he started in Korea,” I said. “And I think there’s something else going on. He said the episode at Rangeman was a dry run.”

I borrowed money from Ranger for parking and tolls and drove back to Trenton. Morelli called just as I was approaching my Turnpike exit.

“I’m driving,” I said. “I’m not supposed to be talking on the phone.”

“I grilled hotdogs for dinner, and I don’t know if I should save the leftovers for you or feed them to Bob.”

“Save one for me. I’m about an hour away.”

Rush hour had come and gone, and traffic was light. I reached Morelli’s house in just under an hour and parked Ranger’s Porsche behind a bright blue RAV4.