That would also explain why he wants me working the party tonight, in costume. I set my alarm, take a short nap, and order in.
I don’t like Sam coming to the shindig but we’ll catch up real fast. After, I’ll send her home. There is no way I want her around if the shit hits the fan.
Later, I study the second floor ballroom. The hotel staff decorated it with orange balloons, black lights, and all sorts of Halloween-themed party crap. Because covid face masks are required, only my eyes show. I pull my Scooby hood over my forehead and approach Slate setting up cameras.
His eyebrows raise at my clever cartoon sweatshirt. “Nice.”
“Thanks. What can I do to help?”
He directs me to a guy laden with computers and cables. By the time we’re done plugging everything in, costumed guests are arriving.
I ask the bartender for a seltzer to quench my thirst and wander back toward Slate. “Is Oblonsky paranoid or is someone really out to get him?”
“Both.” He talks into his chest. “Check?”
“I hear ya.” I wait for the rest of the Patten bodyguards to report in before asking my next question. “Do you have a list of potential threats?”
“Yeah, but their costumes will probably make it too hard to identify them.” Frowning, he strides for the door as I whistle threw my teeth.
“Then why the fuck have a huge gathering?”
“My guess? He’s using us to suss them out.”
“Fucking perfect.”
The lights go low and he leaves for a room nearby. “Party time. Be careful.”
“No problem-o.” My oversized Scooby sweatshirt hides my holstered weapon as I stand in a corner and nurse my water.
Vladimir drinks vodka nearby and speaks Russian to another middle-aged man. I catch a few words. Mostly they talk about relatives and power. From my research, his is a family run organization with very few outsiders allowed in their inner circle.
While perusing the perimeter, I stop at the double door, and laugh out my nose. My wife has arrived and is looking for me. She’s sporting orange knee socks, a ridiculous matching turtleneck, and a red mini skirt. Her blond hair is hidden by a short brown wig and thick black glasses disguise her beautiful big eyes.
I sidle next to her and whisper in her ear. “Sexy school girl Velma. I love it.”
“Scooby, can we talk? Alone?” Her tone holds an urgency I recognize all too well.
I pull her into the security room and kiss her hard. “Damn, girl. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, really. I think the whole operation is meant to punish me for leaving the FBI which is really fucked up, to say the least. I mean Kessler fired me. I didn’t quit. They made me mad so I started researching and… Oh my God, I think there are scientists experimenting on babies. I need you to let me into Oblonsky’s room.” She’s clearly out of her mind but her eyes seem clear and when I put my palm on her forehead, her temperature seems normal.
“No.”
“Suds, this threat could be real.”
“Well, duh. All the more reason you’re not going into his room.” I fold my arms, being exceedingly reasonable but what does she do?
She shoves a temporary badge and a search warrant in my face. “Fine. I’ll use these but it may scare him off. C’mon, honey, I only want a quick peek at his files.”
“How will you login?” For sure, there has to be some way to stave off this madness.
“I already have it. Kessler planted a camera in his hotel, weeks ago.” Her triumphant smile drives up my blood pressure.
“There’s all sorts of surveillance on his floor.”Get around that, FBI gal.
“A husband taking his wife back to his room? What could be more normal?” Her eyes snap and sizzle while I clunk the back of my head against the wall. Surely, I can get her to see reason.
“And then what? We just waltz into his room?”
