“I’ve got her stride down,” Maestro assured them as they all kept their eyes glued to the screen.
Azelie stopped in the hall, facing the wood. She took something from her pocket, palmed it, and then adhered her hand to a spot on the wall among the intricate carvings. Her fingerswere splayed, and she pressed whatever was in her palm tight against the wall.
“Her fingerprints are being scanned,” Code observed, moving closer to the big screen. “Look at the color around each finger. It’s faint, but it’s there. There’s some kind of electronic plate there, and her fingerprints are critical.”
“I can lift her prints,” Maestro said. “That won’t be a problem. But it’s more than her prints. Whatever she palmed is also being scanned. That’s what I need to find. I have to know what that is.”
“My guess is a chip of some kind,” Code said. “That’s what it has to be.”
“He’s got two kick-ass clubs that are full every night,” Player said. “Both clubs bring in massive amounts of money, but he isn’t satisfied. He doesn’t have that kind of security on either of the clubs, which is insane.”
“Not if you’re training women as sex slaves and intend to sell them to the highest bidder,” Czar said. “You need a large space where you can hold them where no one can find them. You need another space to train them, and then you must have a setup for an auction. After that, you still need to ship them out without getting caught.”
“Hence the rooms beneath his underground Adventure Club,” Transporter said. “And the extra security.”
The door slid open, and Azelie stepped into a narrow staircase lit only by LED lights. Those LEDs were dim, throwing off enough light to illuminate the stairs and that was it. The stairs seemed to have walls close on either side. Azelie descended cautiously.
“Her heart rate doubled,” Code reported.
Maestro found his heart rate accelerated right along with Azelie’s. Her descending that steep staircase in such poor lighting gave off the feel of a very real horror film. Ominous. Sinister. Downright evil. He’d lived in a hell. All of Torpedo Ink had. They’d come from brutal torture, pedophiles for instructors. They were forced to become assassins at a very early age and became outstanding at it. Still, seeingthe darkness as she descended slowly felt the same to him as the thousands of times he had been forced into the basement dungeon located below the school where he grew up.
“Mine has as well,” Alena reported.
“You’re not alone,” Lana confessed. “I hate this for her.”
Azelie turned to the right at the end of the stairs. They caught a glimpse of another corridor to the left, but once she made that turn, it was impossible to see anything but what was directly in front of her.
“She’s doing something with her hand,” Ice said. “Go back a couple of frames, Code.”
“The hand she’s holding the chip or whatever it is,” Storm agreed. “See, right there, she fished in her pocket and took out a chain. A necklace of some kind.”
She appeared to do it automatically, but she turned her jacket slightly, just enough for the camera to see her push her hand into her pocket and come up with a chain. It was long and made of what appeared to be silver.
“You see that before?” Czar asked.
Maestro shook his head. “She has jewelry on her nightstand in a little box but no necklaces. It’s cheap stuff. Cute but cheap. I couldn’t find a safe.”
“I thoroughly searched her apartment three times,” Keys said. “I didn’t see that chain either. Or find a safe.”
Azelie hesitated briefly just before an open door. She pushed what appeared to be a tiny square into a pendant hanging on the chain. The pendant looked like a small envelope charm. She put the chain around her neck and then dropped the pendant inside her clothing.
“That’s what you’re going to be looking for, Keys, when I take her out tomorrow night,” Maestro said. “We get that, we’re in.”
Keys studied the picture frozen on the screen. She had placed the chip in the envelope charm so quickly, her hand shielding the item, but at least they knew where it was. It was a matter of finding where she kept the necklace.
“We’ll need eyes on her all the time. She doesn’t have a safety deposit box at the bank, does she?” Czar asked.
Code answered. “No. And she would always need access to that part of the key. Billows seems to call her randomly. This crisis is most likely because he’s been informed his money has disappeared from his various accounts and no one can trace it. He’s acting out of character from what Azelie told Maestro.”
“No shit. I’d be flipping too if fifty million dollars disappeared into thin air,” Master said. “A little more than fifty million,” he corrected, “but who’s counting?”
“I think Billows is. He made bank with trafficking,” Transporter said.
“And a few other illegal businesses,” Code said. “The man knows people. Has the information we need. When we make our move on him, we need to be certain we keep him alive until we have a chance to get that information.” He glanced at Destroyer and then Savage.
Savage grinned at him and held up both hands. “Some men are pansy asses. They give up before we can extract the information. Just sayin’.”
Maestro knew he was full of shit. They all did. Savage didn’t like pedophiles or traffickers. He made that known to them immediately and he did so in extreme ways. He knew how to keep an informant alive and make them suffer the worst pain imaginable, but there were times when his disgust and need for vengeance outweighed his desire to allow the informant to talk.
