Читать книгу Stacked Deck - Terry Watkins - Страница 10

When the plane landed, Beth headed for the nearest food kiosk. After a blueberry scone, one almost ripe banana, a bag of spicy tortilla chips and a large black coffee, she rented an Alero from Avis.

Once inside her car, she reminded herself what was at stake here, and rehearsed what she wanted to say to Allison. Other agents could be called in out of the cold to do this job. They really didn’t need her. And she had something else to do that was, in her mind of far greater significance.

She had never quit anything important, let alone the most important organization she’d ever belonged to. Its code of silence and loyalty was unmatched. It was, to be sure, a lot tighter than the crumbling mafia code of omerta, or the sieve that was the CIA.

At eight-thirty in the morning, Beth drove the Alero through the security gate to the rear of the town house that served as Oracle’s inconspicuous residential location.

The first time she’d been to Oracle’s nerve center, she’d expected some huge building appropriate for a major intelligence operation. Instead it was an unassuming town house as befitting its very low profile.

Her arrival had already been cleared. The agency didn’t like more than one at-large agent showing up at any given time. It was rare, in fact, to ever be invited here and that made this even more unusual.

Beth had never known Oracle’s leader’s identity, but she’d often wondered if Delphi was actually the code name for Allison Gracelyn. Whether or not Allison, also an employee of NSA, was Delphi she was one of the major powers in Oracle, and the one person Bethany wanted to deal with on a personal basis.

She entered the town house through the rear, her thumb print and a retina scan necessary to get in. She went into the kitchen where a woman sat at the table drinking coffee and talking on a cell phone.

Beth glanced at her, made a passing nod and headed upstairs. A young red-headed staffer told her that Allison was in a meeting and asked her to wait in Allison’s office.

Beth made her way into the office. There was a desk, a laptop, a few photos of bucolic settings on the walls, a small refrigerator in one corner, a sofa against the far wall with matching chairs and an oak coffee table.

As she waited for her former classmate, she reflected on her years at Athena Academy at the base of the White Tank Mountains near Phoenix. They were some of the best years of her life.

Everyone who attended the academy was put in a particular group. Hers was Artemis, the Huntress in mythology. She often missed the camaraderie, the competition and the fun of those years, and it brought a smile to her face thinking about all the trouble her secret, “floating” card games had gotten her in.

And those famous words from one of her instructors: “Beth, are you trying to turn this academy into a Las Vegas casino?”

Beth was lost in her memories when she heard Allison out in the hall talking to someone.

Beth took a deep breath to calm down. She didn’t want to just blurt out everything in a gush of emotion. Allison was the consummate professional and Beth wanted to keep her respect and the connection to Oracle.

Allison walked in carrying a laptop shoulder bag. She said, tongue-in-cheek, “Wow. The outfit is so—” she smiled ruefully and raised her eyebrows “—Vegas.”

For her part, Allison looked great, her brilliant brown eyes smiling as she shook Beth’s hand. She wore a tailored gray business suit, white blouse, short hair tucked neatly behind her ears, very little makeup, but the jade teardrop earrings gave the business look a feminine edge.

Allison motioned toward the sofa and matching chairs. They sat across from each other in the chairs.

Beth explained the outfit and filled Allison in on the incident in Vegas and the events leading up to it, and why, because of it, she couldn’t take the mission.

“I’m convinced the men who came after me did so on the orders of the man who runs a cheating crew. It could be the crew my father once worked for.”

Allison studied her intently for a moment, before saying, “The man you believe your father worked for when he was murdered?”

“Yes. I think he now realizes who I am and what I’m doing. I’m very close. I have to carry this through.”

Allison nodded. “I absolutely understand the urgency of your situation, but we really do need you for this operation.” She smiled slightly, and rested her hands in her lap. “I really think you’ll reconsider after you hear the details and the unusual set of circumstances surrounding this mission.”

Beth shook her head, adamant and controlled. “There has to be somebody who can sub for me. I absolutely can’t do it right now.”

“Beth, you’re not only assuming the hit team that tried to take you out is connected to the cheating crew you’ve been tracking, but you’re convinced of it. However, you have no hard evidence to prove this, and you’ve been down this road before with other crews.”

“I know. But I have a good feeling this time that I’m on the right track.”

“But still no actual proof.”

“Not yet. But I will.”

“I can see that it’s easy to fuse your own emotional vendetta with everything that happened.”

“I don’t think that’s what I’m doing,” Beth said, trying hard not to get defensive.

Allison sat back in her chair, folded her hands and tucked her legs to one side, then she sat forward again and straightened her back. All tells.

Beth knew she was in for a serious briefing.

“Beth, at the moment, every graduate of Athena Academy must be considered a target, as well as our students. There’ve been a few attempted kidnappings. We’re all under attack. Since the school was founded it has had supporters and enemies, but there is one enemy in particular who has been there right from the beginning. We absolutely must track down this person. And for that we need your help.”

“Am I the only one who can do this? I’m usually just given data analysis tasks. This sounds different.”

“It is. Very different. And yes, you are the only one who can handle this, in my estimation. There are several reasons for this. The first being, we need your expertise in Monaco.”

“Monaco?”

“Yes. There is a casino there, the Sapphire Star, owned by one Salvatore Giambi. He’s the target. We suspect he was blackmailed by someone with a signature ‘A’ now known as Arachne. We want to know anything and everything you can discover about the blackmailer through Giambi’s financial transactions over the years.”

Monaco was so far from Vegas that Beth just couldn’t do this, but still she asked, “The blackmailer is the person you think is the Athena Academy’s enemy?”

“Yes. We think that is a very likely scenario. This goes all the way back to a jailbreak in Phoenix in 1968 and the attempted assassination of a female prisoner, known at the time as Weaver. She was about to stand trial for murder. My mother was the prosecuting attorney. Weaver was a suspected CIA assassin. She apparently believed my mother set up her boyfriend. Weaver was pregnant at the time. During her escape, her boyfriend was killed, and later she lost her baby. Weaver has since accumulated many aliases, one of them is Arachne. We suspect that Arachne is behind the attacks on Athena. We’re hoping that Giambi will lead us closer to Weaver.”

Beth still didn’t see a reason for her role in this.

Allison continued, “Weaver was blackmailing my mother right up until her death. Blackmail is something she’s very good at. We also believe she’s been a freelance killer across the globe for a long time. She did so much work for the CIA and its clients over the years, heavy work during the Vietnam War, that she knows where all the bodies are buried. Which means, she has information of the kind that has allowed her to make a fortune blackmailing former clients.”

Beth could feel the tension building in her neck. She tried to relax by sitting back in her chair and unclenching her hands. She’d had enough physical action to last her a long time, and really didn’t want to get pushed into the underworld in Monaco.

“What we do know,” Allison said, “is Arachne is called different names in different places around the world. In Russia she’s known as Madame Web. We need to confirm our suspicion that Arachne is the same blackmailer Giambi has been paying for decades. What you’re being asked to do is get into Giambi’s financial universe and track down his blackmail payments to their source. This man has critical information and we need it.”

“Why would you give me this assignment? It’s not what I do, and it’s a long way from Las Vegas.”

“For a couple reasons.” Allison untucked her legs, stood up and walked over to her desk.

She came back with a large white envelope. This time she sat on the sofa right next to Beth’s chair. She put the envelope down on the coffee table. “We need you because you understand the people in the gaming world. Salvatore Giambi, like any casino boss, has always had his eye on the cheating crews to protect his own business. He’s been around a long time and hasn’t been hit by one of these crews in about thirty years or so. Whatever his source, whether it’s the mob or some intelligence branch, we don’t know, but we do know he’s probably the most knowledgeable guy on the planet on this subject. That gives the two of you a bond of sorts. And his knowledge of the cheating crews was one of the reasons he was allowed to open a casino in Monaco. He protects the city from international cheating rings and the authorities allow him to run his casino.”

Beth said, “The cheating crews that I know about are mostly out of Vegas.”

“Giambi may not be located in Vegas now, but he was there for a time and he still has friends. He’s invested heavily in Vegas. We’ve checked that out. And the casinos he’s invested in, unlike all the rest, never get hit by the major crews. It’s like they have a protective cloak against cheaters.”

Now Allison had Beth’s full attention. She sat straight up in her chair, leaning in close. A little jolt of excitement ran through her. “So you think Giambi might know something about the crew my father worked for.”

Allison smiled. “If anyone does, it would be Giambi. The man’s seventy-eight years old. He’s been everywhere and knows just about everyone in the gaming world, on both sides of the table. Beth, I know what finding your father’s killer means to you. When I realized we were going to go after Giambi, I thought of you immediately in spite of your lack of experience in physical missions. I’m extremely confident in you. We need somebody who can create the right kind of identity for this operation and you’re the best at choosing the right identity for the game. And for you, this is a win-win. You help us and yourself at the same time. Though you aren’t specifically trained for this kind of mission, you’re exactly right for it.”

Damn, she did it, Beth thought. She’s got me.

She could see in Allison’s eyes that she knew she had won. All of Beth’s arguments fell mute. All the energy she’d built up preparing to go toe-to-toe with this woman, with the organization, collapsed.

Allison said, “Are you interested?”

“Of course. How could I refuse now? Who will I become?”

“A very wealthy, jet-setting widow and businesswoman.”

“As of last night, I’ve become a little short of funds.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fund this operation. Your new accounts will have plenty of money in them. But don’t lose it all.”

Beth smiled. “I usually win. What’s my new identity?”

“Anne Hurley, a rich widow with two major interests that happen to be Giambi’s passion—Formula One racing and poker. You’re going to arrive in Monaco with all the trimmings of a ‘whale’ who’s looking for some action at the tables and also looking at the possibility of investing in Giambi’s dream of fielding a Formula One team.” Allison slid the envelope over to Beth. “You’ll find your new passport, credit cards, driver’s license, et cetera, inside this envelope.”

“I know nothing about Formula One. Vegas is a NASCAR town.”

Allison pulled an Apple laptop from her shoulder bag. “Everything you could possibly need to know is stored on this laptop.” Allison handed the laptop to Beth. “You also have access to all the data we have on Giambi and his casino.”

Allison continued, “Right now Giambi is rounding up investors. Before you make an appearance at his casino, your money will arrive ahead of you for deposit toward your gaming. And we’ll see to it you have an established reputation, a past and the financial records to go with your new identity. Everything is being inserted into the digital universe. If he does a background check on you, and he will, you’re going to come up as the ideal candidate for his needs. He’s ambitious. He’s even floated an idea to the mayor of Las Vegas about bringing Formula One there.”

“Why would Vegas want Formula One?”

“Because it’s the elite venue in racing, catering to the international jet set. And it wouldn’t impact NASCAR negatively. Their fan base is rock solid. Giambi seems to be trying to create a legacy. He’s also looking into building a casino in Kestonia. He apparently believes that Eastern Europe could be the next Vegas. And he might be getting ready to leave Monaco in the near future. Prince Albert is trying to clean up Monaco’s act. As Somerset Maugham once said, Monaco is ‘a sunny place for shady people.’”

Beth nodded. “Sounds like a fit description for the old Vegas as well.”

“Prince Albert wants any money laundering in the principality ended. He’s trying to cooperate with the European Union banking regulations to get rid of illicit tax havens, and the presence of the Cosa Nostra. When and if this becomes a reality, Giambi will have to move his operations elsewhere.”

Allison pulled out a photo from her laptop bag and handed it to Beth. “Giambi’s Formula One driver, John David ‘JD’ Hawke. He’s a bit of a bad boy who’s been involved in some battles that got him suspended from Formula One. He’s reinstated now, but needs a ride. He likes fast cars and hot women. A little mixing of pleasure with business might just fast-track your operation.”

Beth stared at the photo of JD. He had it going on, no doubt. Right up to the cocky I-get-what-I-want smile, his blond cropped hair, smoky blue eyes and a slight dimple in his left cheek. She looked up at Allison and said facetiously, “Mixing pleasure and business dulls my edge.”

“Getting close to JD will make your penetration of Giambi’s computers and files easier. But it’s your call.”

“How close is JD to Giambi?”

“Very. Giambi has all but adopted JD Hawke. He’s given him an apartment adjoining his sumptuous fifteen-thousand-foot Playboy-mansion style suite atop the casino. A lot of partying goes on up there.”

“A real player.” Beth stared at the picture for a moment longer then slipped it into the envelope.

“You should have everything you need, including the latest hacking software. If you’re missing something, contact Delphi. You’re leaving for Nice at five-thirty this evening. It’s a short chopper-hop from there to Monaco. A villa has been rented in Monaco for your use. Take a couple days to prep. And enjoy the Mediterranean lifestyle.”

Allison glanced at her watch, then stood up, saying, “I have a meeting.”

Beth had one more question. “Just who is Delphi?”

Allison gave her a wry smile. “That’s strictly need-to-know.”

As they left the office, Allison said, “Oracle agents and Athena graduates have finally become a force in this town. The walls of the old boys’ clubs have been breached. Some, of course, are fighting back. We still have a long way to go to achieve our final goals and we can’t allow this current problem with Arachne to derail us.”

Every Athena grad knew what those goals were. A woman in the White House and parity, or dominance, across the board.

Allison stopped and looked Beth in the eyes. “Good luck, Beth. I hope Salvatore Giambi gives up what we’re looking for, and I hope you find what you’re looking for as well.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve made an appointment for you in thirty minutes with Randolph. He can help with a new look. He’s very good.”

She gave Beth Randolph’s card, shook her hand and headed for the door to her office. Then she stopped and turned to Beth. “Oh, by the way, do you tango?”

The question caught Beth off guard. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes, actually. I’m not great, but—”

“Good. Get yourself a tango outfit. Giambi loves to tango. I understand he’s an excellent dancer.”

It never failed, one hour with Allison and you walked out ready to give your all to the mission. The woman, Beth mused, would have made a fantastic no-limit poker player, but then those skills were also the same ones necessary for success on the big stage of politics and power.

As for Salvatore Giambi, he had suddenly become the most important person in the world to Beth. He was the key to protecting Athena, and he was the key, she hoped, to finding her father’s killer.

On her way to her appointment with Randolph, Beth got a call from Detective Ayers informing her that Curtis was in stable condition. “He’s going to survive, and we have one of the shooters in custody. He’s not talking, but that’s a temporary condition, I’m sure.”

She told Ayers where she left the bike at McCarran, and thanked him for calling with the information about Curtis.

Beth didn’t know what problems she would have to deal with in Vegas over the shooting and her leaving town, but they would have to wait until she got back.

“I’d like you to come into the office to answer a few questions,” he said.

“I will,” Beth promised. “But I have some important business to take care of first.”

Relieved with the good news, Beth ended the call and wondered just what JD Hawke was up to at that exact moment, and what type of woman would get under his skin.

She had thirty minutes to figure it out.