13

I kept my eye on the target, hearing Creed come back, “Koko, it’s just a secondary lock. It clamps on the outside of the safe, over the door. It’s made to prevent maids or other hotel personnel from accessing the safe.”

“You mean like me?”

“Uhhh . . . yes, I guess, but it’s not alarmed.”

“Pike, this is Koko, what’s the call? You want me to abort or try to get through it?”

“Creed, what’s the lockset?”

“Well . . . it actually has a lockset that’s tamper resistant. Something called Mul-T-Lock. Resistant to picking and bump keys.”

Shit.

Jennifer came on. “Pike, I recommend abort. Let me get out of here and familiarize myself in our room first, then reattack.”

My target stood to leave. I said, “Can’t do it. I think today’s the meeting day, and after it we won’t get a second chance. He might check out as soon as he’s back.”

Jennifer said, “Pike, I don’t know if I can get through this lock. It could take some time.”

“The lock is bad news, but the good news is he’ll be busy for a while. Just do your best. Put out the do-not-disturb sign and get to work.”

I could almost feel the steam coming off her head. She didn’t like improvising—even though she was pretty damn good at it. I saw the back of my target leaving the bar area, circling around the drunks at the pool.

I said, “I have to go. Just work it as long as you can. I’ll let you know if the guy’s headed back. The room is yours.”

In a completely flat voice, I heard, “Roger that.” I knew she wanted to give me some choice words, but she wouldn’t do that with Creed on the net. Thank goodness I’d had the special insight to bring him along.

I quickly left the pool area, blending in with a small crowd behind the source. He continued away from the Cove tower, headed to the side entrance of the Royal Towers. He went into the giant hallway that spanned the base of the building, moving with a purpose, and I followed behind. He passed through the stores and somewhat cheesy art displays, reaching the main entrance, a sunken dining room next to a gigantic aquarium to his left. He descended the stairs, entering a hallway with a label calling it THE DIG.

I followed him down, briefly reading a placard at the entrance. It was some sort of fake archeological tunnel describing the lost city of Atlantis.

I gave him a five-second start, then went in after him, entering a tunnel with aquarium glass on the left that gave an underground view into the lagoon that bordered the property. On the right were fake artifacts from the fabled city of Atlantis, with both sides full of families taking in the sights. My target ignored it all, forging ahead.

I keyed my radio. “Creed, Creed, target has entered something called the Dig. I need some intel. What’s down here?”

“Stand by.”

“Roger. Koko, how’s it going?”

“I’m working it. I can’t tell if the pins are seating or not. It’s not a traditional lock.”

“Keep at it. It’s like the final test for Jedi. You crack that, and I’ll give you a prize.”

I heard, “Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises.”

Creed came back and said, “It’s just an exhibit that lets you see their marine life. It’s supposed to be the archeological find of Atlantis.”

Jennifer said, “Atlantis? I knew there was a reason Grolier Recovery Services was given this mission. Can’t wait to see it.”

Jennifer’s comment was a thinly veiled joke directed at me and our cover. Ostensibly, GRS was hired by individuals, companies, or governments to facilitate the excavation or maintenance of archeological sites around the world. In reality, we used it for counterterrorism, leveraging the cover to get into nonpermissive environments and put a head on a spike. As an anthropologist and someone who really liked looking at old shit, she religiously attempted to force us to see the sites for “cover reasons,” and she was poking me in the eye with her comment, because we rarely did.

I ignored her, saying, “Where does it go?”

“It winds pretty much linearly, paralleling the hotel itself. Looks like it exits near the casino.”

Casino. Maybe that’s it.

I immediately discarded the idea. If he did anything in there, he’d be on twenty different cameras. No, the meeting was going to occur down here. If he were headed to the casino, he would have just used the hotel hallways.

I kept behind him, and he made no attempt to look at anything other than his watch, even though we were walking right next to sharks, stingrays, and other marine life. We made a couple of turns and eventually reached an anteroom with floor-to-ceiling glass, the lagoon beyond full of “ancient” artifacts and underwater creatures. In the center of the right wall was the entrance to another exhibit.

He disappeared from view, going into it. The hallway extended past the entrance, and next to the Atlantis “runes” painted on the wall was an illuminated exit sign, so the room wasn’t the way out. Afraid that it was just a small exhibit, I continued past, glancing inside.

The exhibit turned out to be a small circular room about thirty feet across, the wall ringed with mannequins in pseudo–20,000 Leagues Under the Sea scuba gear and a pit in the center breathing fog. Suspended over the pit was some sort of hanging ball—presumably something from the lost city. Behind it was the entrance to a gift shop.

My target was intently studying one of the mannequins, the first thing he’d wanted to look at since entering the Dig. The only other person in the room was a man in a white sun shirt, a baseball cap pulled low to his brow.

The linkup.

I went past the entrance, stopping on the far side near the exit sign leading to another hallway. I took a seat on a stone bench carved with make-believe runes, pretending to read a brochure. As much as I dearly would have liked to watch the meeting, my mission here was simply to protect Jennifer, and entering that small room would burn me for sure.

Four minutes later, the man with the ball cap came out, walking at a brisk pace. He went by me, following the exit sign, and I gave a warning order to Jennifer.

“Koko, this is Pike, meeting’s done. You’re running out of time.”

“Roger. I think I’ve figured this thing out. Need maybe ten minutes to get through it, then the actual safe lock, then download from his computer.”

“Roger all. I’ll let you know when he leaves and what his intentions are. If we reach the lobby of the Cove and you’re not done, put it all back like you found it and exfil. I’ll delay him if I have to.”

“Will do.”

I waited another minute, wondering what the guy was doing in the exhibit. Maybe shopping in the gift store? Thirty more seconds and I got antsy. I stood to take a peek inside, afraid I’d missed an exit he could have used. I took two steps forward; then an awful shriek split the air. I took off sprinting, rounding the corner to the exhibit. I saw a young Bahaman woman wearing an Atlantis uniform and freaking out. She was screaming incoherently and pointing into the pit below the ball.

Through the fog bubbling up from some machine below, I could see my target. His legs were still outside of the hole, lying on the rock, but his body was on an iron grate that spanned the pit, the imitation fog making it look like he was being cooked on a barbecue grill.

His face was peaceful, like he was sleeping, but his throat had a ragged tear, the blood running freely through the grate.