"I'm not sure anyone can do anything for me. I'm in prison, and when Victor leaves for Los Angeles he's sending me back to Russia."
"Because of my note? I'm so sorry he hurt you," Natalie said, staring at the red mark on the side of Andy's face.
"It doesn't matter. It wasn't the first time."
"Andy, would you like to start over in the UK," Oliver continued, "or even here in the good old U.S.A?"
"How could I do that? I have no money, I have nothing."
"You have an amazing gift, a gift worth a great deal. I can get you out of here as easily as you can get me into Victor's suite. You don't have to decide right now where you'd like to end up, but initially I'd take you to Great Britain. Everything you need would be supplied. If you want a new identity that could be arranged as well."
"You could really do that?"
"Absolutely, but you'll probably have to leave everything behind. I'm not sure how safe you'd be returning to Russia. You need to think about that."
"Think about what? Of course I want to get out of here. I'd do anything. I hate my life. If you can help me…"
"I can do more than help you. I can make it happen."
"I've dreamed of living in the West so many times but I didn't know where to start."
"Leo will be responsible for getting you out of the hotel to a safe place, but you may get only a minute's notice so be ready, and Andy " Oliver warned, "clothes, toiletries, stuff like that leave behind. Just bring things that are meaningful and put them into something nondescript, like a plastic shopping bag."
"This is for real," Andy whispered.
"You'll soon be free of this nightmare," Natalie promised, and seeing him fight back tears she put her arm around his shoulders and added, "Everything's going to be okay, Andy."
"How will I ever repay you?"
"Getting you out of here is the least we can do," she said softly. "You have no idea how indebted we are. You're making this almost impossible mission possible."
"Hold on, I've got a text," Oliver said urgently, pulling out his phone. "It's Leo. He's on the roof. Damn and blast. A couple of security guys are there. He was able to get the rope up but he says they seem to be settling in. We can't leave the way we came."
"I can probably get you into Victor's suite," Andy said solemnly, "it's only a few floors up, but trying to get out of the hotel will be much more difficult. There are so many guards patrolling, even knowing where they are I doubt you'd get very far without turning a corner and running into someone. They're all over the hotel and the grounds."
"Why is Victor doing this now?" Natalie said angrily. "As far as he knows you've come and gone. He didn't know you'd be back."
"The why doesn't matter. It's the hand we've been dealt," Oliver remarked with a deep frown. "We're screwed."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Oliver walked across to stare out the window. For several minutes a heavy silence hung in the air, then turning around he began to speak.
"We talked about a distraction so I could get into Victor's suite. That's how we get out."
"I was just thinking the same thing," Andy said, "but why don't you do both?"
"Unfortunately there's no point in me getting to the relic tonight."
"Why not?" Natalie asked. "Isn't that the whole point?"
"There's a copy being delivered to the house tomorrow morning. My plan was to switch them."
"You didn't tell me."
"We had that conversation, remember? What you don't know can't hurt you."
"Oh, right."
"It has a tracking device. We need to find Victor's vault and we're convinced he's going to hijack the artifact for himself and take it there."
"I know where the vault is," Andy piped up. "He has a house in the country about ninety-minutes out of London. The vault is somewhere on the estate."
"That's great information, but the copy would lead us directly to it."
"Hold on," Andy said, abruptly rising to his feet and hurrying to open a box against the wall. "Problem solved! This tracker is state of the art," he declared, pulling out a small package still wrapped in shrink wrap. "It's tiny. You can put it in a corner of the crate."
"You are unbelievable," Oliver said gratefully, taking the box and tearing it open. "I know exactly what this is, and you're right. It's the best money can buy."
"It has a brother," Andy continued. "This micro camera. You can put that in too if you want. It picks up audio so you may as well. Oliver, I really think you should go into Victor's suite tonight. For starters, Xavier is sedated. You won't have to worry about him."
"And Victor is on edge," Oliver said thoughtfully. "He's likely to respond to the alarm going off in the exhibition. He set that whole thing up as a lure to pull me in. Right! Decision made. We're going for it."
"How will we do this?" Natalie asked. "Once Victor's gone we still have to actually get there."
"Natalie, I'm going into that suite by myself. I don't want you anywhere near it."
"Um…actually," Andy said hesitantly, "it would be better if you stuck together. It will be easier to get you out if I don't have to reunite you somewhere. Being separated doubles the chances of one of you being caught, and I can't stay in this room much longer. Remember, Victor's crew is next door. I don't think coming back here is an option."
"I hate to say it, but you're right," Oliver muttered. "Natalie, are you up to this?" he asked, sitting down next to her. "Now is the time to tell me if you have any reservations."
"Are you kidding? Don't shoot me but I love this stuff."
"What am I going to do with you?" he grinned, shaking his head. "Remember, do what I say when I say it."
"You don't have to worry. You're the pro."
"Andy, Leo will be getting you out of here. Stop in the bar tomorrow. His shift starts at noon. Oh, by the way, using that ten dollar note to pass your message to him was very clever."
"Thanks."
"He'll put your drink on a napkin. Instructions will be written on the underside. Read them then flush it."
"Okay. Wow. This is incredible," he said, running his hand through his masses of tousled hair. "I can already feel it. Being way from Victor, I mean."
"Make sure your demeanor doesn't change. Don't be happy."
"I'm glad you said that. It'll be hard but I'll continue to act miserable," he said with the hint of a smile. "Do you have your phones? I'll give you the access codes to the security systems, then I'll take off. I need to get back to my room. I've been gone too long already. I'll stay in touch from there."
"Andy, you're a life-saver—literally," Natalie said warmly. "Thank you."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Victor could feel it. Something was in the air. The feeling was almost palpable. His razor-sharp instincts had kept him alive. They were never wrong and never ignored. Striding across to the bedroom he opened the door. Xavier was sleeping soundly, and moving quietly forward he dropped to his knees and stared under the bed. The small wooden crate was exactly where he'd left it, but he wanted to double-check the relic. Sliding it out he pried off the lid and stared down at the priceless artifact. It was exquisite, and carefully lifting it from the packing materials he turned it over. The tiny black dot was still in place. Though he'd not left the suite he felt a wave of relief, and replacing the lid he pushed the box back under the bed.
But he was still on edge. The precognitive energy was strong. It was nearing 3 a.m. but there'd be no rest for him. He was primed. Nervous. Ready. Whatever was coming wouldn't catch him napping.
Straightening up he looking lovingly down at his sleeping lover, but as left, closing the door behind him, his phone buzzed. A shot of adrenalin surged through his body. Staring at the screen he read the urgent message.
ALARM TRIGGERED EXHIBITION. ROMAN ARTIFACT.
"Hah, Oliver Barton! Now I have you! Only you would be so arrogant!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Andy had left, but still in room 1524, Natalie and O
liver were watching Victor in his suite. Oliver was wearing a tiny receiver in his ear, and Andy's voice was loud and clear.
"All the guards are running to the exhibition, but there's one outside Victor's door. Stairwell from the 15th to the 20th floor is clear. Your hallway is clear."
"You ready?" Oliver asked Natalie, looking at her intently.
"Totally. Let's go."
In spite of Andy's assurance, Oliver cracked open the door to check the passage before stepping out. Running to the stairwell he did the same, and with no-one in sight they began sprinting up the steps. When they reached the landing on the top floor he grabbed his phone and switched cameras. The thug outside the Presidential Suite was powerfully built, but he had his head down lighting a cigarette.
"Stay here," Oliver whispered, "and keep the door closed."
Pulling his revolver from his shoulder holster he stepped silently into the hall. The guard was angled away from him, but as Oliver crept forward the brawny man made a fatal error. He spun around with his gun raised. Three loud pops filled the silent space and he crumpled in a heap on the royal blue carpet. Darting back to the stairwell door, he opened it for Natalie, then hurried across to the dead guard. As she followed she watched him searching the man's pockets, and a moment later he found what he'd been looking for. The card key. Sliding it into the lock they stepped inside the opulent suite and moved swiftly to the bedroom.
"Andy, what's happening?" he softly asked as he opened the door and looked across at Xavier.
"Security is searching the grounds. Victor is screaming at everyone. The men watching his monitors keep telling him they didn't see anyone. He's having a fit."
"Keep me posted. We're getting into the crate now."
Handing Natalie his gun he gave her a reassuring nod, and as they crept forward she stood over Xavier as Oliver slid the crate from under the bed. Taking off the lid he carefully removed the relic and began rummaging through the packing materials looking for the documents.
"What's taking so long?" Natalie whispered.
"They're not here. I'll check the artifact,"
Picking it up and turning it over in his hands he saw no openings. There was nowhere the documents could have been inserted.
"There's nothing here!" he said in a frustrated hushed whisper. "I'll bury the camera and tracker and we'll bolt."
"Let me look," Natalie murmured, crouching next to him and picking up the relic.
"There's nothing," he repeated. "Someone got their information wrong or we've been beaten to the punch, or Victor's hidden the plans somewhere else. Bloody hell! They could be anywhere!"
"Oliver! That shouldn't be there. Could it be a microdot?" she asked, pointing at a small round black spot.
He stared at it for a moment, then smacked his forehead.
"It never even occurred to me! That's exactly what it is!"
"How do we get it off?"
"It depends on the adhesive, but he wouldn't have wanted to damage the artifact so he would have used something mild," he murmured, pressing one of the screws on his watch.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting this!" he replied as a tiny knife popped out. "Hold your ears right."
"What does that mean?"
"Expect to hear what you want, and you will."
Placing the edge of the blade against the side of the dot he gently wiggled. The dot shifted, and wiggling the knife again he was able to slip the thin blade underneath it and lift it away from the centuries old clay.
"You did it!"
"Get me a tissue."
"Here" she said, pulling one from her pocket.
"That was handy," he remarked, taking it from her and dropping in the microdot.
"You have teensy knives, I have tissues."
"I'll bear that mind, and you do love that word."
"Which word?"
"Teensy."
"It fits."
"True," he said, folding the tissue and placing it in his pocket. "Now I need to put something in its place," he added, returning the blade into his watch.
"I know exactly what we can use," Natalie said softly, "and from the looks of those eyebrows on Xavier I know where to find it."
"Andy, anything happening?" he asked as Natalie moved away.
"I was just about to tell you! Victor's leaving the exhibition. Security is still searching the grounds but I think he's headed back to his suite, and he's got a few guys with him. You should go."
"We're almost done. Keep me posted."
"Here," Natalie said, kneeling beside him and handing him a black eyebrow pencil.
Making a small round mark where the microdot had been, Oliver returned the artifact to the crate, replaced the lid and pushed it back under the bed.
"Time for us to leave. Victor's on his way."
"Shit."
"Knickers," he said as they hurried from the bedroom.
"You honestly care about that right now?"
"Oliver, stop," Andy said urgently in his ear. "Three guys are racing up the stairwell. You won't make it. Find somewhere to hide, quick, they just entered the hall."
But Oliver could already hear the men outside the door. They had found the body of the guard he'd shot and they'd be inside any moment.
"Stay behind the door against the wall," he said, grabbing Natalie by the shoulders and pushing her into position, "and take this," he added, removing the receiver from his ear and placing it in hers. "Pass along anything Andy tells you. If I don't make it hide—fast. He'll find a way to get you out."
"Oliver…"
"Stay there."
Grabbing his phone and brought up the camera in the hall. There were four men crouched around the body. With the element of surprise he had a better than even chance. Slowly cracking open the door he dropped on one knee, put the barrel of the gun in the narrow opening and took aim. The first shot dropped the man nearest him, the second hit the thug who started to get up, the third tried to crawl away but didn't make it, but the last had done the smart thing. He'd fallen on to his stomach, and rolling on the ground he took cover behind the biggest body and began returning fire.
"Find me something small and heavy," Oliver ordered hastily, "then get back into position."
Seeing a bronze horse head on a nearby bookshelf she bolted to fetch it, raced it across to him, then hurried back against the wall.
"Okay, Lady Luck," he muttered. "Time to show yourself."
Kicking open the door and firing as he did, Oliver hurled the vase towards the shooter, hitting him on the shoulder. It caused the thug to lift his head just enough for Oliver to get off a clean shot. The bullet pierced his skull.
"Andy says there are more guys on their way," Natalie declared. "Where can we go?"
"Open the sliding glass door! Andy, contact Leo. Tell him to drop the rope onto the balcony of Victor's suite then take off."
"Okay, but what about—"
"Just do it."
Hurriedly opening the slider, Natalie ran back to him, and as they sprinted through the door he pulled it shut behind them.
"Where are we going?" she asked as they jumped over the bodies in their path.
"Right here!"
Stopping at the room adjacent to Victor's suite, Natalie gasped in astonishment as he pulled a card key from his pocket and slid it into the slot. They slipped into the room just as a group of men burst into the hallway from the stairwell, and Victor stepped off the elevator.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
With Sergei and Boris following, Victor stepped from the elevator and marched angrily towards his suite. When he saw the pile of bodies and a few brave guests peering around their doors, some looking absolutely horrified, he became positively apoplectic.
"What the fuck?" he growled, stepping over his mortally wounded men.
Finding his card key and sliding it through the metal chamber, he pushed open the door and sent Sergei and Boris in ahead of him. It only took them seconds to announce the all-clear, and charging in
he raced to the bedroom to check on Xavier. To his great relief he found his lover blissfully asleep, and dropping to his knees, heart in his mouth, he peered under the bed.
"I don't believe it," he muttered, seeing the crate as he'd left it. He was about to pull it out and check the relic when his hotel room phone rang. "Yes?" he said, grabbing it quickly and speaking softly so he wouldn't wake Xavier.
"It's John McCreary, the night manager, I've had reports of—"
"I'm sure you have," Victor snapped, though still keeping his voice low. "What's wrong with your security? I have a pile of bodies outside my door."
"Alan Baker will be there shortly. He's on his way back to the hotel to deal with this."
"He should never have left!"
"Mr. Pichenko, the police will be here shortly and they'll have to do a complete sweep of the hotel to find the perpetrator. I'm sure the guests will be ordered to stay in their rooms, and—"
"It's 3:30 in the morning. Where else would they be?"
"We have many visitors who enjoy the casino at all hours," the manager said curtly. "The point is, Mr. Pichenko, after the car fire and now this, I've been informed to tell you it would be best if you moved your exhibition and your staff to another facility."
"You think I'd stay here after your security people let this happen?"
Without waiting for a response he hung up the phone, and was about to pull out the crate when Sergei called to him from the living room.
"Now what?" he grunted, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
"Looks like you had intruder. He got in from the roof and maybe left the same way," Sergei declared. "The rope's still swinging. I'm thinking whoever it was decided to leave through the front door, and when he did he ran into the guys, or maybe he heard something and—"
"Fuck the theories," Victor barked, already on his way to the balcony. Finding the dangling rope, he gazed up at the roof, then turned back to Sergei. "He might still be here. Keep those fucking stairwells manned and search the grounds again. Great! Just what I fucking need," he shouted, hearing the wail of approaching sirens. "I need to check on something. Don't disturb me for five minutes."
SPY: His Mission. His Orders. His Promise. Page 11