Sasha smiled wide. “Yes, of course. Please allow me to escort you to the high roller suite. I think you and your associates will be much more comfortable there.”
“Sounds good,” Sundance said, and we were shown to a door behind the DJ booth which lead to a swanky lounge area that looked like something straight out of the seventies.
“What do you think, huh?” Sasha asked proudly, his arms raised.
“Pretty groovy,” Sundance replied.
“Check it out,” Sasha said, pointing excitedly to a dark wood dining set.
“It’s a nice table,” Sundance said.
Sasha’s face lit up. “It’s the actual table from the Jazz club scene in Bullitt! Can you believe that? This was the chair Steve McQueen sat in, man.” Sasha paused, his eyes darting from chair to chair. “We don’t know which chair was actually his...but it could be any of these.”
“I remember you boys being big fans of ol’ Steve. Looks like nothin’s changed,” Sundance said, glancing around the room.
“We got this and the watch at auction last year,” Sasha said, pointing to his wrist.
“Wait, that’s not a replica? That’s his actual watch?” I blurted out and Sundance shot me a look.
“The real deal, baby,” Sasha said, proudly.
“So,” Sundance said, shifting gears. “How does the race work these days? Like I said, it’s been a while since I’ve been here. You look like you may have been a little too young to remember those days.”
Sasha smiled wide. “Even in my youth, I’m sure I would have remembered if two idiot bikers and a cop walked into our place.”
Before we could move a muscle, Sasha’s bodyguards dew their guns, aiming them directly at us.
“Whoa,” Sundance said, putting his arms up, and Luca and I followed his lead. “You’re right. He is a cop,” Sundance said, motioning to Luca, “but he’s not here to bust anyone. We’re here to talk business, and filling us with holes would be an expensive mistake on your part.”
“What kind of business?” Sasha asked.
“The serious kind. Let me show you what’s in that bag and you’ll see,” Sundance said.
“How about I kill you and the cop and take whatever is in the bag?”
“Because whatever is in there could be more,” Sundance replied. “Besides, given your family’s history in Monument, I’m not really sure executing a cop would be your smartest move.”
“Why the fuck should I listen to you?”
“Because I speak Russian,” Sundance said, rubbing his thumb, index and middle finger together, making the international sign for money.
Sasha paused and motioned for his guards to lower their guns. “Open the bag. Do it slowly,” he ordered Sundance.
Sundance took the bag from me and placed it on the floor before opening it wide. “There is one million in clean cash in this bag.”
“What exactly are you looking for?” Sasha asked.
“Not what, who,” Sundance replied. “You have a young boy. A boy named Felix. I want him.”
“I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but—”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I knew your brother, Uri. I’ve done business with your family in the past. Before I knew you were in the skin trade. I know all about your operation and how much a life is worth to you. One million is way over market price and avoids the heat a dead cop will bring down on you.”
“If I had such an item, it would be worth more than one million to me,” Sasha replied in a tone that made me want to rip his throat out.
“That’s why I’ll arrange for another million upon delivery of the boy. That should more than make up for any of your business losses.”
“And what about him?” Sasha asked, pointing at Luca.
