“Where’s Matt and Thiel?” Tommy asked Nick.
There all stood in front of the wall monitor like waiting for a concert to start. Zelman wasn’t even in the frame yet, so they were watching an empty desk.
“They went down to get the crew ready,” Nick said.
“You’re not going?”
Nick looked at his cousin. “I’m not thinking straight right now.”
“None of us are,” Tommy said, jabbing a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “At this point, I’d probably kill him for littering.”
Nick went over to the desk where Stevie was moving the mouse around and staring at the screen.
“Well?” Nick asked.
“He’s got two different accounts, one is offshore,” Stevie said. “Two weeks ago, Zelman transferred twenty million dollars from his offshore account to his cryptocurrency wallet. A few days later, there was forty million dollars in that account. Then a day later there was nothing. Looks like he diverted all forty million dollars worth of currency into a . . .”
Stevie was reading something on the screen and was lost in thought.
“Stevie?”
The FBI tech held up a finger to Nick, then said, “Okay, let me explain this so you understand. Normally criminals use a mixer or tumbler service. You throw your cryptocurrency in one end, it gets split up and sent to various addresses a bunch of times, before being spat out the other end into your chosen wallet from different addresses. But that service is not cheap, and apparently Zelman was desperate to save money, so he didn’t use one.”
“Which means?”
Stevie looked up at Nick. “Which means I found everything. I’ve set up a phony address and have directed any new deposits to bypass Zelman’s account and go directly to my address.”
“What will Zelman see when he logs in?”
“Nothing but zeros as far as the eye can see. I took everything.”
“And you’re sure you can prevent the transaction from . . .”
Stevie was frowning before Nick could even finish. “Really?”
Nick smiled, then patted Stevie on the shoulder.
As Nick was turning away, Stevie said, “Nick.”
Nick turned back. “Yeah.”
“He’s going to know it was us who did this.”
Nick leaned over the desk, his arms straight down, his mind clear and full of purpose. “That’s the point, buddy. I want him to know I’m here. This is personal. You understand?”
“I do now,” Stevie said.
“Good,” Nick said, not even caring anymore who knew his agenda. They could put him away, but that would only leave scars compared to Sal Perrino’s fate.
He went over to Tommy, who was looking at his phone.
“I haven’t heard from Cara in hours,” Tommy said. “She went on a run.”
“I wouldn’t worry. She could run forever.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Zelman appeared behind his desk, shuffling some papers to the side and moving his laptop in front of him.
“Showtime,” Tommy said.
They watched Zelman tap the keys, then look at his screen. He clicked the mouse a couple of times, then narrowed his eyes. His expression morphed from curious to bewildered. After a few more clicks, he sank into irritation. He looked up and feigned a smile as a body came onto the screen and sat in front of Zelman’s desk. Al Mancini. A couple of shadows crossed the frame, there appeared to be bodyguards on either side of Mancini.
“Just give me a moment,” Karen said, reading Zelman’s lips.
Mancini’s hand moved as he appeared to be speaking, but his back was to the camera.
“Relax,” Karen said. “The money is being transferred right now.”
Zelman was attempting a calm demeanor but failing miserably.
“If that’s his poker face,” Tommy said, “I want a card game scheduled right away.”
“Here it comes,” Karen said, watching Zelman clicking the mouse and appearing as if something was happening on the laptop.
Nick walked behind Stevie to see his laptop.
While Nick was standing over his shoulder, Stevie said, “Still have doubts, huh?”
Nick grabbed both of his shoulders and said, “I’m a little on edge is all.”
“Well, maybe this will help.”
Stevie typed the words, “COURTESY OF NICK BRACCO” on his screen, then pointed to the wall monitor. “Check it out.”
Zelman appeared startled at something on his screen. Something so powerful, he couldn’t hide his surprise. He immediately swiveled around in his seat and looked out his window, as if Nick might be standing there on a scaffold, waving at him.
Stevie looked up at Nick and said, “Okay?”
Nick ruffled Stevie’s hair and went over to the wall monitor once again, this time with a slight bounce in his step.
“What was that all about?” Tommy asked no one in particular.
“He just saw something that frightened him,” Nick said. “Now let’s see how he responds.”
* * *
Zelman couldn’t believe the message on his screen. Somehow Nick Bracco had hacked into his system and stolen all of his money. He tried to think of how it could’ve happened. Nev was dead. Pashkov had made certain of that. Did Pashkov lie? Was he working with the Feds too? Zelman didn’t have the time to conjure up the possibilities. All that mattered now was finding a way to get out of there.
“Is something wrong?” Mancini said, sitting there playing with an unlit cigar.
“No, my system is running slow, that is all.”
Mancini crossed his legs. “Ain’t that the case? Computers always run slow whenever you’re in a hurry.”
Zelman casually took his phone and texted for Ropa to get the car and wait for him around back. It was time. He’d already packed his bag and had it stored in the trunk. But how did he get out of there? Mancini was not stupid. He would not let Zelman walk out without his money.
* * *
Zelman was texting someone. He was cornered and needed a way out. Nick wondered how he was going to do it.
“He’s going to make an excuse,” Tommy said.
“Mancini knows he doesn’t have the money,” Nick said. “He needs to stick with the plan.”
“This is not good,” Tommy said.
“It may take some time to get transferred,” Karen said. “Do you want to come back in an hour and I’ll have it for you?”
Mancini was gesturing with his hand.
Zelman was nodding.
“I can have it,” Karen said. “Just give me fifteen minutes.”
Mancini edged forward in his chair and pointed his unlit cigar at Zelman. By the look on his face, Zelman was restructuring his thoughts. Trying to wiggle out of an impossible web.
“I uh,” Karen said. “Yes. I can do that.”
Mancini slowly got to his feet and walked around the desk toward Zelman.
“I understand,” Karen said, while Zelman leaned back, his arms coming up to protect himself. “I will have it.”
As Mancini turned to leave, he looked directly at the camera and did something that brought a smile to Nick’s face.
He winked.