46
The very second his cousin announced he was staying at the Palazzo hotel, Dom Caruso leapt to his feet in the suite at the Mandarin Oriental, ran into Ryan’s room, and began scooping up loose clothes, shoes, even his computer and peripherals, and he threw them haphazardly into an open rolling duffel on the floor. He then rifled through his cousin’s closet, took pressed shirts and a suit, wadded them into a ball and crammed them inside the duffel, threw in a dopp kit full of toiletries, zipped it up, and ran with it for the door. He slung a backpack go-bag of his own over his shoulder and left the suite.
The valet downstairs had the keys to the Mercedes E-Class the team was using in town. The Mandarin Oriental was about a mile and a half south of the Palazzo on the Strip, a significant distance in traffic, so Dom didn’t plan on waiting for the valet. As he rushed to the elevator he put the conference call with the rest of the team on hold on his phone, then dialed the saved mobile number to the head valet on duty tonight.
Clark had befriended the man, and a few of his coworkers, just after they had checked in.
The man answered and Dom spoke rapidly. “Andy, this is Bobby, Mr. Phillip’s nephew.” The team all had cover identities, and Clark had issued a standing order forbidding any of the team to say Clark was their dad; therefore he was always Uncle Joe, Uncle Pete, or Uncle “something” on their ops.
“Hey, bro. What’s up?”
“I’ll be there in three minutes. If my black E-Class is parked at your stand with the trunk open and the keys in it, I’ve got fifty bucks coming your way.”
“You got it, bro!” Andy said, and he hung up.
Clark was already in the Venetian, so he only had to head next door, which he did in a jog. It took him five minutes, and this got him there just five or six minutes ahead of Ryan and the Frenchwoman.
He went to the reception desk, skipped ahead of a couple of Japanese businessmen with several bows and professions of apologies, and picked up the two key cards to the junior suite on the thirty-ninth floor.
Ryan and Élise arrived at the front of the Palazzo at the same time a black Mercedes E-Class pulled up to the valet stand. Caruso climbed out just feet away from them, took his luggage out of the trunk, and followed them into the entrance.
Just inside the palatial lobby, Dom rolled by them and headed straight for the elevators like a businessman in some rush to get to his room.
In the main lobby, Ryan took Élise by the arm and stopped her. He nodded to a swanky lobby bar. “The bartender here makes an incredible margarita.”
The Frenchwoman just shook her head with a smile. “You’ve probably never set foot here in your life.”
Jack chuckled, still doing his best to give off the impression he was more fascinated by her mistrust than anything else. “No drink first?”
She shook her head again. “No, thank you. Are we going upstairs, or are you ready to give up on this charade?”
“Let’s go up. I can’t wait to see the look on your face.”
She shrugged. “After you.”
Just twenty-five yards ahead of Ryan and the Frenchwoman, Dom raced to a huge bank of eight elevators around a corner. Eight of the sixteen elevators reached floors thirty-seven through fifty. Clark had just entered a car twenty seconds earlier, but he’d left a key in a planter for Dom and told him where he’d dumped it. Dom snatched it from the planter, took the first elevator that arrived, and stepped inside. He noticed the car bypassed floors seven through thirty-six. He pushed the button for the thirty-ninth floor, and the car shot straight up, not stopping at all along the way.
John Clark took his elevator up to the second floor, and on the way up he took a small piece of tape, affixed it to Ryan’s card, and attached it to the buttons to the right of the door. As he did so he said, “Listen up, Ryan. When you get to the bank of elevators, the last one will come down to you. Take it. Your card will be taped to the keys to the left of the door.”
John pushed the button in the car to send it back down, then stepped out.
As soon as Ryan and Élise arrived in front of the elevators, the last one dinged and opened. It went against Jack’s sense of manners to enter before the woman, so he positioned himself on Élise’s left and entered just a half-step behind her. He swiveled his body to cover the buttons and saw that the room key card was lightly taped over the thirty-ninth-floor button. Jack easily popped it off and pressed his floor with the same movement, all while turning around to face her.
His hand went down to his side, and he reached into his pocket with the card in his hand, then pulled it out and held it up.
She stared at it in disbelief.
The elevator rose to the second floor and the door opened. Jack and Élise stood there quietly looking at an empty tile floor. Jack looked at the gorgeous tall blonde and smiled. “It’s a beautiful hotel.”
“Seeing it for the first time?”
“No. Just mentioning it.”
The doors closed and they started heading up again.
John Clark bolted out of the third-floor stairwell, sweat dripping from his face and his chest heaving from exertion, and he ran toward the elevator bank. He reached it at a sprint and pushed the call button to go up.
As soon as he did so he heard the bell announcing a car was stopping on the floor. He quickly moved out of the sightline of anyone in the car.
The door opened just feet away from him and Clark held his breath so as to stop his heavy breathing. In the moment of silence, both in his earpiece and from the car itself, he heard a female speak with a pronounced French accent.
“Damn children.”
Ryan replied, “Little bastards.” The door closed.
Clark let out a quick sigh of relief and said, “I stalled them as much as I can, Dom. They’ll be less than sixty seconds behind you.”
Caruso replied, his own voice affected by heavy breathing. “Understood.”
Two minutes later Jack slipped the key card into the lock of “his” hotel room on the thirty-ninth floor.
He held the door open, but Élise just stood there dumbfounded.
“I don’t believe it,” she said softly, and only after a delay did she enter the room.
Jack smiled and followed her in, then he caught a surprised look on her face. He glanced across the room. Dominic had left a pair of Jack’s red boxer shorts in the middle of the floor in the sitting area. Jack groaned inwardly, and told himself he’d kick his cousin’s ass the next time he saw him.
Some other clothing was scattered about; there was a suit laid out neatly on his bed, and his computer was on the coffee table in front of the sofa. It was a little sloppy, but it looked legit.
“Sorry,” he said, scooping up his shorts. “I hadn’t planned on having company.”
Élise did not reply. Instead, she stepped over to the open bathroom door and peered inside. A couple of wet towels lay on the tile floor, the toothbrush was on the vanity next to an open tube of toothpaste, a mouthwash bottle open next to it.
The walls and floor of the shower were damp.
She turned away and stepped back into the middle of the room.
There was an iced bottle of champagne on the coffee table next to the sofa, and Ryan was both surprised and impressed that the hotel had managed to have that ready not more than twenty minutes after the initial reservation had been made. Jack walked over to it and pulled the bottle out of the ice.
Élise noticed the wine bucket now and she cocked her head quickly. “Why the champagne?” she asked. “Isn’t that something that’s normally done when you check in?”