Derek patted his front pocket. “Right here.”
Almost two hours later, Destiny said, “Maybe nobody’s comin’?”
Derek sighed. “A little longer.”
“What if nobody comes?”
“Then we come back tomorrow.”
“I get paid my hourly rate, even if we don’t go in there.”
“I know.”
“How many days can you afford?”
“Depends on how much I wanna eat this month.”
Destiny frowned, not unkindly. “We could just go in there.”
“But, if they’re not expectin’ company, the guards will be on high alert.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Thank you for helpin’ me.”
“You’re payin’.”
“You and I both know I’m not payin’ enough.”
“I ain’t doin’ this for you or the money. You know that.” And she wasn’t. High-end DC call girls were a small community. They shared information about Johns for their own protection. Zhang Jun was on their most dangerous list. Unfortunately, their cries to the police fell on deaf ears, and Zhang Jun continued to prey on new and naive call girls. Some pimps knowingly led them to the slaughter because the money was too good to turn down. Destiny had lost a friend two years earlier, before Jun was a well-known predator.
An autonomous sedan approached, parking in the lot. A muscled man and a petite young woman exited the car. The woman wore a short skirt and flats.
“Here we go,” Derek said, standing from their hiding spot and brushing off his pants. He left his backpack behind. Everything he needed was in his pockets.
Derek and Destiny hurried to the hotel entrance, gaining on the couple. Inside the hotel, they slowed their gait, only ten paces behind now. They passed the front desk.
The hotel receptionist said, “Good evening.”
As the muscled man called the elevator by pressing the up arrow, Derek and Destiny sidled up to the couple. The elevator door opened, and the four of them entered.
The man pressed six, for the penthouse. He looked at Derek and said, “What floor?”
“We’re goin’ to the same floor,” Derek replied.
The elevator door shut. The man narrowed his eyes at Derek, then looked at Destiny with her skirt and flats. “You seein’ Mr. Jun?”
Derek nodded. “You?”
“Not me.” The man pointed to the petite woman. “Her.”
The elevator opened, and they stepped onto the sixth floor. They walked down the long hallway toward suite number 60 and the beefy security guard sitting by the door. The guard scrolled on his phone, not noticing them yet.
As they passed the posh bar on their right, the muscled man stopped and said, “I was gonna get a beer and wait in the bar. Mr. Jun only lets the girls inside.”
“I have to ask the guard somethin’. I’ll be in there in a minute.” Derek motioned to the bar with his chin.
The man opened the glass door and entered the hotel bar. Derek, Destiny, and the petite woman walked toward the penthouse. Derek handled the lipstick in his pocket, his hand slick with sweat and his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if he’d need the cell phone in his back pocket.
As they approached the security guard, the man stood, bulky in his dark suit. Derek recognized the security guard from the anonymous video he’d been sent. He was one of the men who’d carried April wrapped up in a rug and had then dumped her lifeless body in Zhang Jun’s SUV.
The security guard glared at Derek and said, “You can wait in the bar.” Then he glanced from Destiny to the petite woman. “Hold your arms out so I can check you.”
The petite woman held her arms out like a scarecrow. The security guard ran a wand over her body, then patted her down for good measure, taking particular care around her butt and breasts.
“You’re good,” the guard said, slapping her on the ass. He glared at Derek again. “Why are you still here?”
“I’d rather you didn’t pat her down that way,” Derek said, motioning with a tip of his head to Destiny.
“I’ll pat her down any fuckin’ way I want.”
“Then you can explain to Mr. Jun why he’s a girl short tonight.”
He frowned at Derek, then said to Destiny, “Put your hands out.”
The security guard hovered the wand over Destiny’s body, then did a more professional pat down. He waved his key card over the door, and the lock released. He opened the door and said, “Go on in.”
The petite woman stepped inside first. Destiny stepped past the guard, then turned back, now standing in the doorframe, her foot acting as a doorstop. She said to Derek, “I need my lipstick.”
Derek reached into his pocket.
The security guard stepped into Derek’s personal space and said, “Take your hands out of your pocket slowly.”
Derek removed his hand, holding the lipstick container. “It’s just lipstick.” Derek held up the pink tube to the security guard’s face. The security guard relaxed, and Derek sprayed Destiny’s pepper spray disguised as lipstick. The security guard howled and fell to his knees, scratching at his face and eyes. Derek’s eyes watered from the remnants floating in the air.
As planned, Destiny ran for the stairs and ultimately the exit. Derek stepped into the suite. The other large security guard was only a few feet away. He reached under his suit jacket for his gun, but Derek sprayed him as well. This guard yelled and hollered in pain but managed to extract his handgun. He wheeled around, pointing his gun, trying, but failing, to open his eyes. Derek moved behind the security guard, staying clear of his muzzle. The petite woman coughed and hacked from residual pepper spray. She squeezed past the men and ran for the exit.
Derek shoved the pepper spray in his pocket and removed the cell phone from his back pocket, an item he’d purchased for this purpose. He pressed the trigger on the side, the faux cell phone producing a crackling streak of electricity. Derek plunged the disguised stun gun into the man’s back, holding it there until the man dropped to the ground immobile, his handgun now on the marble floor.
Derek put the stun gun back into his pocket and picked up the guard’s handgun. He glanced around the suite. To his left, he saw a flash of white and heard a door shut. High on adrenaline, Derek ran to the door, lowering his shoulder and busting through, the interior door and lock weak. He stumbled inside the bedroom, nearly losing his balance and crashing into Zhang Jun, who was on his cell.
“Hurry,” Zhang Jun said into the phone.
Derek pointed the gun at Zhang and said, “Gimme the phone.”
Zhang handed over the phone, and Derek dropped it on the floor, then smashed it with his boot. Heavy footsteps approached, and Derek moved behind Zhang, the gun barrel pressed to the back of the CEO’s head. “Put your hands up.”
Zhang put up his hands.
The first security guard approached the scene, red-faced and puffy-eyed, his gun drawn.
“Tell him to get out of here, or I’ll kill you,” Derek said to Zhang.
“Leave us,” Zhang said, surprisingly calm.
“Tell him to take his buddy with him.”
“Take Harper with you.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jun,” the man said, tears streaming from his irritated eyes.
“Go, you imbecile.”
The security guard left the room.
“Turn around,” Derek said. “Keep your hands up.”
Zhang Jun turned to face Derek, wearing only a white robe. Derek had the handgun pointed at Zhang’s face, both his hands on the weapon.
“I called the police,” Zhang said matter-of-factly. “Whatever you’re planning, it won’t succeed.”
Derek removed his left hand from the gun and retrieved a rumpled picture from his back pocket. He handed the picture to Zhang. “Look at her.”
Zhang took the picture and glanced at April, his expression dismissive.