“You really want to play cards? If that’s your idea of fun, we have a quarter of a million dollars that youcanblow.”
Alexei darted forward, taking Sean by the hand as he headed deeper into the gambling area. “Be rude not to use.Wego.”
Sean rolled his eyes, but gamely followed after Alexei as they weaved their way through the packed slot machines to where the blackjack, poker, roulette, and baccarat tables were located. Robots with smart response capabilities manned the card tables while employees handled the roulette and baccarat ones. Sound dampeners isolated the slot machine areas from the slightly more sedate table games area just enough to help withconcentration.
Sean wasn’t a big fan of gambling, mostly because he gambled with his life a lot on the job, and gambling with money just didn’t have the same appeal. But the Wolcotts had gifted them a hefty sum, and Alexei was right. It would be rude to ignore such a gift, even if Sean could’ve donewithoutit.
At 1014, the tables were at various levels of fullness. Gamblers were playing with the house’s money looking like they’d just woken up or were at the tail end of a long night and needed a break. The siren call of Lady Luck kept them at the tables, thinking the next hand would be the jackpot. The servers they passed by seemed to be offering up an equal amount of synthcaf and alcohol, despitethehour.
Las Vegas never shut down, and casinos were open every hour of the day. Sean snagged a mug of synthcaf off a tray as they headed for a blackjack table that looked mostly full. He took a sip of the stuff, a little surprised to taste whiskey in it. He wondered how the casino collected on payment for the alcohol, then remembered the slew of CCTV security cameras saturating the building. The facial recognition program, not to mention Artemis, probably billed people the moment they lifted a glass offatray.
“Is good,” Alexei decided as he took one of the last remaining seats at a crowded blackjacktable.
Sean sipped at his synthcaf, wishing he had some creamer to cut the oily bitterness. The whiskey wasn’t helping. “For you. I’m going towander.”
“Kiss forgoodluck?”
Sean heard Madison stifle a snicker behind him. Cognizant of their audience, Sean closed the distance between them and gave Alexei a kiss that was anything but quick. Alexei curled a hand behind Sean’s thigh, urging him closer. Sean went where he was cajoled, letting Alexei dominate the kiss until it left himbreathless.
Alexei didn’t seem affected at all by their lingeringgoodbye.
“You’re incorrigible,” Seanmuttered.
“Not know what you talk about,” Alexei replied smugly before turning to face the table atlarge.
Sean turned his back on Alexei, ignoring Madison’s sly smile in favor of checking out the restaurants near the pool entrance. She and Trevor followed him as Sean took his time getting a feel for the first level of Olympus where the main activities were found. The buffet restaurant was open, as was the pool area. Halfway down the restaurant wing of the casino Sean caught sight of The Vine where lunch would take place after the meeting with Adrian on the administrationlevel.
The restaurant was closed right now, though prep was probably happening in the kitchen. Sean didn’t linger long in front of the restaurant, and continued down the hallway that snaked through the wing of the casino at a leisurely pace to takeeverythingin.
“We have our routes,” Trevor reminded him in a lowvoice.
Sean nodded. “I know. But I like getting eyes on themmyself.”
Seeing something on a map or blueprint was far different than knowing the physical layout of the area and what it would take to get from point A to point B. He tried to plan for everything when it came to undercover missions, knowing he wouldn’t have much support to fall back on unless he needed an extraction. Rationally, he knew he had Alpha Team at his back, but Sean’s methods had yet to fail him in thefield.
They backtracked to the pool entrance and stepped outside into shaded sunlight, cutting across the outdoor area to the other side of the casino. All the shops in the retail wing were open and enticing guests to browse their offerings with advertisements in the windows and free samples where appropriate. The spas and salons they passed were in full swing, to say nothing of the designer clothing stores full ofcustomers.
Sean pretended to browse through a few of them, putting on a show of interest that couldn’t hurt their chances of working with the Wolcotts. Currying favor was a solid business practice with a certain type of person. He spent a good hour meandering through the shops, killing time, before finally heading back to thegamblingarea.
As they crossed the lobby, slipping between groups of people and fast-walking casino workers, Sean caught sight of someone that made him want to freeze. He kept walking out of hard-learned habit, casually turning his head to track the tall man crossing their path up ahead, striding towardtheexit.
He was dressed casually, like a tourist, not out of place in the casino at all. But he stood out to Sean by just being there. Kevin Stableford was a CIA protective agent whose protectee had been CIA Deputy Director Carter Bennett for as long as Sean was a CIA officer and after he left. Wherever the CIA deputy director went, Stablefordfollowed.
Scanning the area, Sean saw no signs of any other CIA protective agent, nor the CIA deputy director himself. That wasn’t to say Bennett hadn’t been there, but Stableford wasn’t acting like he was on duty. Sean had only ever seen him and Bennett in the black business suits they wore like armor back in D.C. Granted, it had been more than three years since he’d been face-to-face with Bennett, but somehow Sean didn’t think the man’s habits had changed all that much. Which meant Stableford’s shouldn’t have changedeither.
Sean was acutely reminded of how he left the CIA for the MDF, the CIA deputy director’s dissatisfaction for how the mission had ended seared into his memory. The old, quiet feeling of shame for so thoroughly messing up a long mission, no matter that he had survived when no one else did, came back to Sean in a rush, leaving a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. He’d been proud to be a CIA officer, but his dismissal disguised as a transfer still sat heavywithhim.
“What’s wrong?” Trevor asked quietly as they keptwalking.
Sean shook his head, not daring to voice the sudden tumultuous thoughts racing through his mind. He wondered if they were running their mission in the middle of another agency’s op. It wouldn’t be the first time he crossed paths with other spies in the field, but this wasn’t a joint operation. The MDF had no hint the CIA was interested in the Wolcotts, unless they were maybe targeting North Star International. Then again, the inter-agency relationship between the CIA and MDF had soured over the past year or so since they’d discovered Cora Everly’s betrayal. Sharing of intelligence was at an all-timelow.
All that aside, it could be as simple as Stableford was onvacation.
But Sean had been trained never to overlook the out of the ordinary. The timing today set his teeth on edge in the wake of Jansen’s appearance last night. He couldn’t fully articulate why Stableford’s appearance at Olympus had him so tense, but Sean had long ago learned never to ignore hisinstincts.
No more side trips were to be had as they made their way back to the blackjack tables where Alexei had accrued a tidy sum judging by the number appearing on his bet screen in the table. He’d also apparently had a drink delivered, though Sean wasn’t too worried about him imbibing alcohol while on the job. Their metabolisms couldhandleit.
Alexei sat sprawled in his seat, with Annabelle standing guard behind him, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. The gold chains hanging around his neck caught the light as he grabbed his drink and lifted it to his mouth, taking a long swallow. Sean knew he wasn’t the only one watching the way his throat worked, only he had firsthand knowledge with how goodthatfelt.
