Page 95 of Tightrope

Matthias brought the Packard to a stop at the gates of the club. He did not need the icy frisson across the back of his neck to warn him that they were too late.

It was four o’clock in the morning, a half hour after closing time for the Paradise. There were only a handful of cars left in the parking lot. Most belonged to the late-night staff but one stood out from the rest—Vincent Hyde’s limo.

“This is not good,” Luther said quietly. He opened his door and got out. “There should be two security guards in front. They don’t go home until the rest of the employees have left for the night.”

“He’s inside,” Matthias said. “And he’s in control of your fortress.”

“How the hell—?” Luther did not finish the question.

Matthias reached into the back seat and grasped the handle of the heavy suitcase that contained the Ares machine.

“This is what he wants,” he said. “It’s our only bargaining chip.”

Luther’s jaw tightened but he said nothing more.

The big wrought iron gates that protected the lush gardens and thefront entrance of the club were unlocked. Matthias and Luther went through them and walked to the front door of the club.

Raina met them in the grand foyer. There was no one else around.

“He sent me to bring you both into the main floor of the club,” she said. Her eyes were shadowed but her voice was cool and unnaturally calm. “He told me that you are to give your guns to me and that you must remove your coats so that he can be sure your holsters are empty. He wants the Ares machine.”

Matthias handed her his pistol and took off his jacket. Luther did the same.

“What’s the situation inside?” Matthias asked.

“He’s in the private booth on the mezzanine level,” Raina said. “He’s holding a gun on Amalie.”

“Shit,” Matthias said softly.

“That’s not all,” Raina said. “He’s got a cylinder of poison gas. He says that if we don’t do exactly what he tells us to do, he’ll release the gas. It’s some kind of nerve agent that will kill everyone within range in a matter of minutes.”

Luther looked at Matthias. “You were right. Jasper Calloway wants that cipher machine very, very badly.”

Chapter 52

Amalie sat very still in the private booth on the mezzanine level, her hands in her lap. Outwardly she appeared coldly composed. But when Matthias looked up from the main floor of the club he could read the seething fury in her eyes. Jasper Calloway stood next to her. He appeared oblivious to her rage. A briefcase and a gas cylinder sat on the table. Jasper had one hand wrapped securely around the release mechanism of the cylinder. In his other hand he held a gun aimed at Amalie’s head.

The light fixtures in the ceiling and along the walls of the club had been switched on in preparation for the nightly cleaning. Two men in janitorial attire and a couple of the club’s security guards sat stiffly in one of the booths on the main floor.

In an eerie parody of the glamorous scene that had prevailed earlier in the evening, when the club had been crowded and the orchestra had been playing, candles still burned on the tables, and empty cocktail glasses sparkled in the harsh glare cast by the light fixtures.

Jasper grunted with satisfaction when Raina, flanked by Matthias and Luther, stopped below the mezzanine.

“Thank you, Ms. Kirk,” Jasper said. “I see you have done exactly as instructed. Put the guns on the floor and kick them under the nearest table.”

Raina bent down and set the pistols on the floor. She used the toe of one high-heeled shoe to nudge the weapons under a table.

Matthias looked at Amalie. “Are you all right?”

“Not really,” Amalie said. “It’s been a rather stressful evening.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jasper said. “The past few days have been very hard on my nerves.”

“Your plan was too damn complicated,” Luther said. “That was a mistake. You were a pro back in the old days. A top secret agent code-named Smith. Looks like you’ve lost your edge.”

Jasper’s expression hardened. “What do you know about Smith?”

“Not a lot,” Luther said. “Just what the Federal agent told me when he asked for my help.”