by Mark Stone
“I personally think now is the perfect time to get drunk,” I answered. “But that’s not why I want to go there. Whether or not Oliver admits to it, he and his people are going to be watching us. If we’re going to act like idiotic heathens, the least we can do is go somewhere we might blend in.”
“And tequila,” Scott said, almost absentmindedly. “There’s always tequila.”
“Told you there was always tequila,” Scott said, finishing his second shot and slamming the glass back on the bar. The third-floor bar was packed tonight, which wasn't unexpected any night of a cruise, but especially the first. People just wanted to chill out, have fun, and get ready for an exciting weekend. Of course, those people hadn’t just fought off Russians, almost gotten stabbed, and found out that a reporter had snuck onboard to keep tabs on them. Nope. I was in a pretty unique situation, all things considered.
“Remind me to introduce you to my friend Davey when we get back,” I muttered, looking over at Scott. “Assuming we all survive this, that is.”
“I have the utmost faith in Lucky John and his angels,” Scott answered, his voice steadier now. Apparently, the alcohol had done a lot to calm his fluttering nerves.
“Don’t,” Charlotte warned, shaking her head. “Don’t call us that.”
“Right,” Scott answered sheepishly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You guys would need one more to be Lucky’s Angels, anyway.”
Ridiculously, my mind flipped back to Mia, who was very likely back at home with no idea any of this was going on. She had helped me so much when dealing with what happened to Alexis and her son. If she had been here, I’m sure she would have helped me again. She wasn’t, though, and there was still a big job to do. My head needed to be in the game, not thinking about some cute woman on the mainland.
“All right,” I said, turning to Random and ignoring Scott’s stupid comment. “Spill. Tell me what’s up. Tell me why you came forward now.”
“Really?” Random asked, her finger tracing the top of a glass filled with red wine. “I was hoping you were going to guess.”
“Seriously?” Charlotte grated. “Just let me punch this chick already.”
“Yes!” Scott said. “I am definitely a fan of that idea.”
“Nobody is punching anybody,” I said, “Unless, of course, I find a Russian with a broken jaw lying around here somewhere. In which case, I’ve got dibs.” I ran a hand through my hair and looked at Random again. “You found something, didn’t you? That’s the only thing that makes any sense. Your reporter’s nose has gotten you into trouble and led you down a path you need help coming back from. You found something that scares you. That’s why you came to me. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
Random looked at me for a long moment. “Figures you’d get it right.” She sighed. “But that’s not all. I come bearing gifts as well, particularly the location of that aforementioned broken-jawed Russian you were talking about.”
“You know where he is?” I asked, my heart jumping a little. “Take me to him.”
“Slow your roll, cowboy,” Random said. “I’ll tell you where he is, I promise. All you have to do is answer one question for me.”
“Are you actually holding us hostage for information?” Charlotte asked. “You really are a piece of work.”
“Just doing my job,” Random said. “So, what do you say?”
“What if I can’t answer the question? What if I don’t know the answer? Are you still going to bring me to the Russian? I need to get to the bottom of this,” I said.
“It’s a very simple question,” Random said. “Something tells me that, not only will you know the answer to my question, but you’ll know more than just the answer.” Random crossed her chest with her arms. “Tell me, Lucky,” she started. “What, exactly, is the Linchpin?”
19
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said quickly, even though my pulse had sped up to Daytona 500 levels as soon as I heard the word come out of Random’s mouth. The Linchpin was the entire reason Charlotte and I were here in the first place. It was a piece of coding that Wendy made, the one that had the ability to throw the country—and maybe the entire world—into chaos. If Random had heard about it, it meant her reporter’s nose had dug even deeper than I’d originally thought. It also meant the woman’s penchant for trouble might very well get her killed. I couldn’t allow that to happen. Of course, I also needed to figure out exactly what it was she knew about the Linchpin. Any piece of information she might have that I didn’t would be invaluable to me.
“I don’t believe you,” Random said, shaking her head. “I mean, you’re a good enough liar, but this one is the worst.” She pointed to Charlotte. “I’ve seen children accused of stealing candy who were able to hold their cool better than that.”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte balked. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“The hell I am.” Random chuckled. “The way you’re shuffling around and avoiding eye contact are classic signs that you’re being untruthful. Give it five minutes and I’m betting your entire forehead will be dripping with sweat.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why that surprises me. Midwestern girls just aren’t good liars as a rule.”
“What’s a Linchpin?” Scott asked, downing yet another shot of tequila.
“See, him I believe,” Random said. “But the two of you definitely know more than you’re letting on.”
“If we did, this isn’t the way to get the information,” I said flatly. “Dangling the whereabouts of a criminal whose jaw I’d like to finish breaking in front of us like some damn carrot isn’t in your best interest. I don’t trust you, and this isn’t helping matters.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t give a damn whether you trust me or not,” Random said. “To be honest with you, I don’t trust you either, and we’re both smart not to. You said it back in Bonita Springs. I have my own motives, but so do you.”
“That’s not the same thing,” I shot back, indignation rising up in me. “Your motives are to write some stupid story and turn it into a television show. Mine are—”
I stopped short, realizing I was about to spill some information and that doing so was probably exactly what Random wanted from me.
“You’re good,” I muttered.
“I know,” she answered. “So are you. We’re good at different things, admittedly, but good is good no matter how many different ways you cut it. That’s why I think we’d make a good team with this.”
“Team’s full,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly from beside me.
“Then I suggest you make room,” Random said. “Because judging by your reactions, whatever the Linchpin is, it isn’t good. In fact, if what I’m hearing is right, it’s very bad.”
“And what exactly are you hearing?” I asked, taking a step toward her.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Random said. “You want something from me, but you’re not willing to share yourself. Fine. I’ll bite, but only because I know you’re still going to need me.”
“How generous of you,” Charlotte muttered.
“We should take this somewhere else,” I said, my eyes moving for an instant over to Scott, who was ordering another shot. “Whatever you’re about to say—”
“It involves him,” Random said. “At least, I’m nearly certain it does. The thing is, I think I know why the Russians tried to kill him.”
“What now?” Scott asked, slamming the latest empty shot glass down on the bar.
“I heard some people at the blackjack tables earlier speaking Kawishana,” Random said. “It’s a rare language, only spoken near the Japura River in Brazil. A few handfuls of people in the world are able to speak it. So, these guys probably thought they were in the clear when using it.”
“Let me guess,” I murmured. “That handful of people includes you.”
“I like to be well-rounded,” Random explained. “Besides, you should be thanking me, because I’m about to blow this wide o
pen for you. Whatever the Linchpin is, it’s the talk of this place. If the Kawishana crew was right, at least half the people on this ship are after it.”
“Okay,” I said, acting like this was brand-new information to me. “What else, and what does it have to do with someone trying to kill Scott?”
“Well, the person who is selling the Linchpin is pretty eccentric. I mean, they’d have to be, judging by how the stupid thing has to be won.”
“Won?” I asked. “I thought this was an auction. Wouldn’t a better term be sold?”
“Traditionally,” Random said. “But if the guys I spied on were right, this isn’t any normal auction. There are no bids. There’s a fifty-million-dollar buy-in. Everyone has to pay it.”
“A buy-in?” I asked. “For what?”
“For the chance to win whatever the Linchpin is,” Random said. “You see, whoever is selling this isn’t giving it to the highest bidder. They’re giving it to whoever can win the damn poker tournament.”
“You can’t be serious,” Charlotte said, her mouth dropping. “Terrorists know how to play poker?”
“We’re dealing with terrorists?” Random asked, seizing on the information Charlotte had just laid out and looking at me.
“It’s a high-stakes situation,” I explained.
“Obviously,” she said.
“Sometimes, terrorist groups and other entities can work through shell corporations. I’ve seen the list of players here. None of them seem to be out of the ordinary or even new.”
“Novice players aren’t allowed aboard the Diamond Mine,” Scott chimed in. “In fact, I’m the first player with under a year of experience who has ever been invited.” He looked over at Random and winked. “I’m kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah. You told me.”
“The point is, players are sponsored, right?” I asked. “I’m guessing most of the higher-ranked players, the ones who are more likely to win, have been sponsored through some of these shell corporations. I doubt the players themselves even know what’s going on.”
“Oh, my God,” Scott said. “That’s why I got such an influx of new sponsor offers for this, wasn’t it?” He shook his head. “I just thought it was because it was the Diamond Mine. I figured I was just getting more popular. That wasn’t it, though. People wanted to use me as a pawn.”
“Who are you sponsored by now?” I asked.
“No one,” he answered. “I decided to put up my own money this time. That way, when I win, I can keep the entire pot for myself.”
“You seem pretty confident,” Charlotte said.
“I’m the odds-on favorite to take this whole thing,” Scott said.
“And that’s why you’re a target,” I surmised. “If you win, then they can’t. If you win, then the Linchpin goes unclaimed and this whole thing probably happens again, which is very likely what the seller wants in the first place. Endless rounds of money coming to them. But if you get taken out, then—”
“The Linchpin goes to enemy hands,” Charlotte finished.
“I have a question,” Random said. “When I said I was getting in over my head earlier, I wasn’t being nearly dramatic enough. Was I?”
“Not even close,” I answered. “Now, the Russian man.”
“Right,” Random said, nodding firmly. “I figured he’d need to be close to a medic bay after what you did to him, and I was right.”
“I knew it,” I muttered, remembering that I had said the same thing to Oliver and been shot down. “Stupid protocol.”
“I found him in a janitorial closet on the fifth floor across from a nurse’s station,” Random said. “Then I swiped a key from the aforementioned nurse’s station and locked the bastard in. That’s where you can find him.”
“Good,” I muttered, heading toward the stairs. “Because I have some questions for him.”
We marched like we were in the damn mafia toward the janitorial closet where Random assured us the Russian man was still being kept. In a line, and mostly quiet, it occurred to me that we must have been a hell of a sight, dressed to the nines and with all the fervent motivation of an unstoppable freight train.
The thing was, I couldn’t allow this to continue. Not only were they trying to kill my friend so he couldn’t inadvertently steal their chances at screwing up the world with immense power, but there was the whole ‘screwing up the world’ thing in the first place. These weren’t complicated issues. Crappy people wanted to do crappy things, and because I liked to think of myself as decidedly less crappy—and because I had the know-how and the bravery to—it was up to me to stop them. And that was exactly what I was going to do.
Only, I might find that it was harder than I thought. At least, this part.
“Please tell me that’s not the janitorial closet you were talking about,” I said, looking forward and seeing a door sitting wide open.
“Oh, damn,” Random muttered, though she didn’t have to. My name and track record aside, I knew my luck, and aboard this ship, it hadn’t been very good. Sprinting forward, I rushed to the door.
With an open mouth and a racing heart, I looked down to find an older man lying on the floor of the closet. He was shaking and blood poured from his mouth. Looking down, I saw a shard of wood, a broom handle which had been snapped in half and left jagged, sticking out of his chest.
“Oh, no,” I said, leaning down and surveying the man.
“My God!” Scott yelled as he caught sight of him.
“He got out,” I said, looking up at the others. “This poor janitor was probably trying to do his job, and he just attacked him.” I took stock of the wound as well as the fact that the poor old guy was still alive. “It must have just happened.”
“Move,” Charlotte said, kneeling down and causing her dress to pool up around her. “I went to nursing school. Let me see him.” She looked over at Scott. “Go get a medic. It’s just across the hall, apparently. Hurry up.” Like a flash, Scott disappeared from the doorway. “And you,” Charlotte said, her eyes wide and determined as she looked over at me. “If this just happened, the sonofabitch responsible couldn’t have gone far. You know what you have to do.”
“Damn straight,” I answered, standing up. “I’m going to go find him.”
20
I stood quickly, heading out of the janitorial closet and further down the hall. My heart was beating so quickly and my mind was working so furiously that I almost didn’t hear the footsteps following behind me. Of course, even if I wouldn’t have heard her steps, her demands would have been impossible to ignore.
“He would have gone to the left,” Random said, kicking off her high heels and running to meet me.
“Stay with the others, Random,” I said without breaking stride, coming up to a spot in the hallway that diverged in two separate directions. Quickly, I came to a stop.
“No thanks,” the woman answered, shaking her head hard. “I’ve got to go where the action is. It’s in my blood. Besides, leaving you on your own hasn’t worked too well during this cruise so far. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll tag along.” She nudged my side with her shoulder. “And like I said, he went to the left.”
“It’s not all the same to me,” I huffed in response. “It’s not even close. This cruise is dangerous, even more dangerous than you know. The Linchpin is a big deal, a very big deal. If it gets into the wrong hands, that could have far-reaching implications.”
“You do know that I’m an investigative journalist, right?” Random asked, pursing her lips like I had just said the most ridiculous statement ever spoken. “What would make you think that telling me this story is even bigger than I originally thought would get me to stay away from it?”
“Because if you don’t, it could get you killed,” I said. “And I could very likely get myself killed trying to keep your troublesome ass safe.”
“Nice,” Random said quickly.
“It’s actually not very nice,” I said. “It’s the opposite of that.”
&nbs
p; “No. My ass,” Random said. “It might be a troublesome one, but it’s also pretty damn nice.”
“That–that’s beside the point,” I stammered, blinking hard but not disagreeing with what the woman said. “The point is—”
“That you can’t stop me, and you’re just wasting valuable time trying to,” she said. “Time you could be using finding this moron.” Random pointed down one of the hallways. “Who went left, by the way.”
“What the hell makes you keep saying that?” I asked, my eyes equal parts wide and frustrated as I finally turned to the woman. “There’s no blood. There are no signs at all to tell us which way this Russian dude went.”
“Except me,” Random said. “When that loser tried to attack me as I locked him in the closet, he did it with his right hand.”
“So?”
“So, right-handed people are, more often than not, left-footed, meaning they lead with their left foot.”
“I know what it means to be left-footed, Random,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “Then you should be able to follow the rest of this pretty easily. Think about it. This guy just took out a janitor. He has no way of knowing how long it’ll be before he’s found out, and he comes to this decision. He’s not thinking. He’s going entirely on instinct. That left-footed nature of his is going to tell him to go to the left, even if he doesn’t realize why he’s doing what he’s doing.”
“That seems pretty flimsy,” I argued.
“Do you have a better idea?” Random challenged me with a smirk and upturned eyebrows.
“Not one that doesn’t involve our splitting up. Which again, I won’t allow.” I sighed. “Come on. If I can’t get you to at least try to keep yourself out of trouble, I’m gonna need you to stay behind me.” I stared at her intently, letting her know I meant business. “And at the first sign of trouble, you hit pavement. You understand?”
“There’s no pavement here, but yeah. I get it,” she said, getting behind me as I walked to the left in the hallway.