Page 6

Chapter

Six

LUNCHBOX

M onaco.

Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world… Our hunt had brought us to Monaco. Our original plan had been to interrogate the assailants or to follow and gather more info…

Maybe if we hadn’t been quite so efficient with the teams sent to reclaim Gallo, we could have played this differently.

Oh well.

Our bad.

Technically, we were collecting more information via a different avenue. And yes, arguably, this was more about precision chaos than pure extraction, but always play to your strengths.

The elevator ride to the lower level took several seconds longer than I thought it should. Then again, I trusted Alphabet’s work to get us the credentials. Well, get them the credentials. I was just here as the rogue arm candy.

When the panel flashed from red to green, I blew out a breath. Three seconds later, the elevator car glided to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal The Marquess, a lavish underground casino tucked below a luxury hotel in Monaco.

Exclusive, elite, and accessible only by invitation.

Voodoo and Alphabet gripped my biceps and marched me out into the lush lobby area with its expensive furniture, imported marble floors, and ancient artifacts—three of which I damn well knew belonged back in Greece but had disappeared during a repatriation from the British Museum to Athens.

Good to know.

Cameras were likely tucked into every fixture.

Security on these levels would be ruthless and swift.

They wouldn’t bother with questions. In addition to the gaming tables and private rooms for whispered deals, The Marquess played host to the real action that brought us all the way here.

Trafficking auctions masked as “discreet services.”

From what Gallo had said, Grace was nearly sold here. This would have been her destination before he picked her up—at a considerable markup .

Jackass.

While we stopped her from being brought here, so many others were still being trafficked through the facility. I took all of it in on our way across the lobby. The staff and security all wore similar high-end suits, distinguished only by the presence of weapons.

Two members of security, including one wearing an ankle holster from the way his pant leg draped, stepped forward as we marched toward an area marked off by velvet ropes.

Meeting the gaze of that man, I bared my teeth and had the satisfaction of him narrowing his gaze even as he rocked his weight back a half step.

Made you blink.

Voodoo waved the other guy back, the action would have revealed his own weapon.

“We’re already late, get out of the way.

” The cold dismissal in his voice would have made a new recruit piss their pants.

Maybe it didn’t have quite the same effect here, but it did prevent them from blocking our access.

The man who rose as we cleared the lobby and into the rear hall was older, harder eyed, and wore his intellect as fiercely as his skill. The flat line of his mouth and set of his shoulders said he would not be moved by a stare alone.

“What is this?” He motioned toward me. Yes, I was bruised, and the split in my lip had reopened though it wasn’t bleeding. The zip tie around my wrists declared I wasn’t here willingly. Not that they would care.

In addition to the sex and service options they trafficked in, they also dealt in security assets. I was a rogue, and ideal for the right bidder who may want to use my skills for muscle, personal revenge, or just training for their own security.

Under the right circumstances, I might almost do this for fun. Taking down these arrogant pricks could be a good time.

“He’s not listed,” the steely-eyed man stated. He tapped one thick finger to a clipboard on his desk.

“That’s because this isn’t on the list,” Alphabet drawled the words, smacking the gum that I’d actually forgotten he’d stuffed in his mouth on the way in.

“If he’s not on the list…”

“We didn’t say he isn’t on the list.” Voodoo spoke in a far more precise, impersonal tone as though detailing directions. “We said this isn’t on the list.”

“Papers,” the security chief demanded.

Alphabet snorted. “Papers? How fucking new are you? All invoices and manifests come in electronically. Physical papers are trackable, dumbass.”

Color bloomed in the man’s face and his nostrils flared. “I want identification. Now. Or you can join your delivery in the chute.”

Physically suppressing the urge to roll my eyes took every ounce of my strength. What a tool…

“You want to clear this with management?” Voodoo said, still a picture of dispassionate patience. “Or would you like to explain why you delayed delivery?”

A vein throbbed in the chief’s forehead. I didn’t have to glance behind me to know he didn’t have the backup right there. If anything, the lack of audience reduced his posturing. Still, I might need to stage a “break” for a distraction—Alphabet tapped morse code against the inside of my arm.

Oh, that would work.

The man went to round his desk and I made a “lunge” that had Voodoo elbow me, before he slammed me chest down over the desk and bracing a forearm across my back.

“Can’t you control him?” The chief had retreated three hard steps.

Wimp.

“Clear us or call management,” Voodoo ordered. The tone said obey or else .

Snarl in place, the chief stormed back to the desk and I had a closeup look at his password as he keyed it in. Yeah, this guy was not used to real threats walking in the door. Doubtful the rest of the staff would be so easy.

An alert beeped and the chief frowned. The angle only let me catch a little of the screen. The priority notice with my details was right there and the words urgent delivery flashed.

Nice. I hadn’t even seen Alphabet slide in the thumb drive or remove it. He had a gift.

“My apologies,” the chief ground over the words as if they stuck to his tongue like garlic frosted donuts. “I didn’t know he was marked for a private buyer.”

Not bothering to answer him, Voodoo and Alphabet hauled me upright before bypassing him and heading to the next set of doors. We were a half-step from them when the locks released with a buzz.

This door opened into a whole new level of sin and debauchery. It was an open casino flooring, with nude women and men delivering drinks and providing other services . Security was also placed strategically about the room, but they barely glanced at us.

Sometimes, threat-level swagger was all you needed. The layout we’d mapped needed filling in, so that was exactly what we did as we made our way across the floor toward a new bank of elevators and doors.

“Peacock,” Voodoo said almost under his breath. “Suitcase. Diamond. Sickle. That’s four.”

So four of twelve were already here. Two points to Gallo, he’d been straight with us about that. Maybe we should have killed him a little faster, but he’d been real hesitant about sharing.

Once inside the elevator, Alphabet said, “Thirty seconds.”

I snapped the zip ties with one hard jerk. Then traded with Alphabet for a weapon and jacket. He raked a hand through his hair, smacked his gum, then pulled out his phone.

When the doors opened to an executive level, Voodoo took point with Alphabet shuffling next to him and I shifted to the role of bodyguard. Meetings often occurred on this level, not sales. Though one of the primary bidding rooms was located here.

A guard stepped out of a door ahead of us. He frowned and said something in French, but Voodoo already had him in a headlock and back through the door. He was out ten seconds later and we had a working security badge.

“I have the cameras on this level,” Alphabet said. “It’s not going to last long, so I’m going to have to roll them along with us, just lock the view on the ones we have to pass while we pass them. They have a lot of fail-safes in place.”

“We’ll make it work,” I said, joining Voodoo in a swift search of the room. The table had binders on it with digital pads inside them. No paperwork. Each pad required a fingerprint to open.

Not helpful.

A remote turned on the television screen. The view overlooked a room, stretched long and cold. Industrial lights casting a sterile glow over rows of metal cages. Inside each one stood a man or woman, dressed to impress—sleek suits, tight dresses, every detail curated to draw the eye.

Their bodies were posed like mannequins, expressions vacant but inviting, as if frozen mid-catwalk.

The air buzzed with the sound of footsteps—spectators moving slowly, snapping photos, muttering judgments.

It was a runway stripped of glamor, a showroom of human display where allure met captivity in a parade of unsettling elegance.

“Bidding will start soon,” Alphabet said. “We need the ‘in.’”

The guard Voodoo dragged in with us wasn’t tall or broad enough for us to use his clothes. We’d just have to fake it. “Then we go downstairs, find the targets, follow them.” We could lift credentials if we had to.

Because we needed the guard to stay quiet and out of sight, I found a small maintenance closet in the back of the room and we stuffed him in there—bound hand and foot, and gagged.

Not perfect, but it would have to do.

“Security camera angles on the main room,” Alphabet said and I joined them to study the images on the screen. “Comm check.”

I pressed the small device just behind my ear. It was flesh-toned and would short out after a day or two, but it worked for quick missions. “Check.”

“Check,” Voodoo said. At the door, I exited first, sweeping the hall before stepping out and letting Voodoo and Alphabet fall back into their roles. We headed back to the casino floor.

For the next hour, Voodoo gambled, flirted, and “drank,” while Alphabet smacked his gum and I drifted along with them.

According to Gallo, this section of the operation fell under the control of twelve high level bidders.

They were the ones who extended the invitations, as well as ensured there was plenty of “stock.”

He had some of the names.

We needed the rest.

It was with this in mind that Voodoo made his way around to the pai gow table where the peacock, one of the first targets we’d marked, sat playing. A silver-haired woman in her mid-sixties, she’d embraced her age and wore it like an ethereal crown.

Enormously attractive and fit, she seemed absolutely certain of her appeal. She also knew what she liked. One glance at Voodoo and she gestured for the man next to her to leave, freeing the seat up for him.

“Madam,” Voodoo said before he took the seat and settled his chips on the table.

“Hmm,” was all she replied before she took a sip of her wine. “You’re new.”

“I am.” Voodoo spread his hands. “Since we’re offering facts, allow me to say, you’re exquisite.”

She laughed.

Damn, the man had skill. I kept my face expressionless and scanned the room.

“I warn you,” she told him as the dealer began. “I do not have a soft side.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Voodoo drawled. “What do I get when I find it?”

When, not if.

Not even a full minute and he had her charmed. There was more than one way to skin a cat. Now to make sure when she went into that auction, we went with her.