Page 23 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

After an outer-gate security check and a front-door weapons and identification check, an assistant finally granted them access to a parlor as spacious as a bus terminal. The assistant left them alone there, but Nicky had no doubt they were being watched. Most likely recorded as well.

“It’s a little smaller than I expected,” Mike said with a gleam in his eye.

A new slender and severe assistant appeared. Nicky noted that she didn’t make eye contact with either of them. Perhaps that was how the reclusive billionaire liked it.

She simply said: “Mr. Schraeder will see you now.”

Nicky and Mike followed her down a hall lined with framed art. It resembled a mini-museum dedicated to pure wholesome Americana: farmhouses, Depression-era kids fishing, amber waves of grain, all that. A vision of this country that had probably never existed.

Abruptly, the assistant pivoted on a heel and led them into a nearly lightless empty room. Nicky looked around, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“This can’t be right,” Mike said. “Hey, we’re here to see Mr.—”

But the assistant had already left and closed the door behind her.