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Frank returned to his seat. As he sat down, he pointed at the package as if he was shooting a gun with his finger. “That’s half a million dollars to get you started.”

She pursed her lips. “Not a bad start,” she said. “But for something like what you’re asking, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than that.”

He smiled, knowing something she didn’t. “Like I said, that’s just to get anything you need to begin, which needs to happen today. I’m fairly certain my colleague’s asset has already begun. As far as payment, each painting you bring in will earn you fifteen million dollars, American. Get all three, and I’ll pay you a bonus of an extra ten. The total haul for you will be fifty-five million, should you complete the triple.”

Allyson’s face contorted. “Should I complete it? You don’t have faith in me?”

It was Frank’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I have plenty of faith in you, my dear. It’s why you’re sitting in that chair this very moment. I know, however, that my colleague will have brought in someone as good as you.”

“There is no one as good as me.”

He rolled his eyes to the side but didn’t dispute her comment. “You’re the best I know of. But if there’s one of you, there’s bound to be two. Maybe more. So you’ll need to watch your back.”

“A race against another thief. And you don’t know who this person is?”

“Sadly, no.” His answer was honest. “We’ve tried to obtain information on who it might be, but so far, nothing has turned up. It’s as if she’s a ghost.”

“She?” This piqued Allyson’s attention.

“Yes,” Frank nodded. “I’m basing that comment on an assumption, but it is reasonable to think that he would select a woman since he knows that you are my logical choice.”

Her eyes twitched at this last revelation. “So he knows about me, but you know nothing about who he brought in? That doesn’t sound like a level playing field.”

“Since when has that mattered?” he asked. “And besides, like you said, you’re the best. I have no reservations about the circumstances. More likely than not, you’ll be a step ahead of whoever she is the whole time.”

Allyson took a deep breath. She preferred to know more about her competition than a few scattered details. She would make do for now, but eventually Allyson would have to do a little research. And she knew just where to start. Her friend Jude would be the guy to go to for that information. If someone were working a high-end job like this, surely he would know. Jude had his fingers in a lot of pies, and he always heard anything of note in the underworld of black market dealings.

She let go of the issue with the other thief and refocused. “What’s the job?”

“The first painting is a Bellini: Madonna and Child.” He paused for effect, and to let his words sink in.

She raised both eyebrows. “Bellini?”

“Are you familiar with that piece?”

“Vaguely.” She wasn’t lying. She’d come across bits and pieces referring to the painting, but nothing substantial. “I do know who Bellini is. You guys are really swinging for the fences on this one. What about the other two?”

“You only get to know one painting at a time. Once the first is retrieved, or you have delivered proof of its destruction, you will obtain the title of the next target.”

His comment gave her a second thought. “What do you mean, proof of its destruction? How am I supposed to do that?”

Frank shrugged. “That, my dear, is not my problem. And don’t try to get slick with me. I’ll know if you fake any evidence.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.” Allyson pondered asking her next question for a moment before speaking again. “I have to ask, what's in this for you? You gonna hock these paintings or something? Make a few hundred million?”

A laugh escaped his mouth, and his eyes rolled around the room. “Oh my goodness, no. I’m a collector, dear. This is a friendly competition between me and a peer. Nothing more.”

“It’s friendly until the bullets start flying. And when they do, I’ll be the one in the sights.”

“Which is why you’re receiving such a handsome fee for your services.”

Frank was offering an enormous sum of money, which told her he didn’t intend to lose.

She considered the offer. Her eyes wandered to the pistol resting on the massive, heavy wooden desk. The gesture was more a result of attention deficit than threat. “Okay, Frank. I’ll do it. But no matter what happens, I’m keeping this half million. Got it?”

“That was my intention all along.” He held his hands out as a show of good faith that he had nothing to hide.

She nodded. “All right then. You have yourself a deal. From the sound of it, I need to get moving. So if there’s nothing else you need to tell me, I’ll be on my way.”

He stood at the same time she did. “I would wish you good luck, but I know you don’t believe in such things.”

“Make your own luck, I always say.” Allyson winked at him. She spun around, causing her skirt to whirl a little as she walked out the door.

When Frank heard the door in the antechamber close, he sat down and grabbed a cigar from the box on his desk. He’d always had an affinity for the finer things in life, and a good cigar was no different. His favorite was the Padron 80thAnniversary Edition. It was long with a torpedo tip. Of all the cigars he’d smoked through the years, the Padron was always the one he came back to. It was pricey but for someone of his means, money wasn’t an issue, especially when it came to having the best. He picked up a black butane lighter and clicked the button. A blue jet shot out of the device, and he held it close to the cigar, spinning the stick slowly to get an even, orange burn. Twenty seconds later, he put the cigar to his mouth and started puffing. His mouth filled with an earthy, robust flavor just before he spewed the smoke into the air.

“What do you think, Evan?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the desk. The heels of his Italian leather shoes rested on the edge.

A slightly younger man, probably in his forties, with gray-streaked black hair and a matching, neatly trimmed beard, stepped out of the shadows in a room off to the left of the study. Frank’s primary use of the alcove was to allow his right-hand man to hear everything that went on in the study and then give his opinion. He was Frank’s general, one of the few people on the planet he trusted. They both had blood on their hands, and because of that, it was in both of their best interest to trust one another.

Evan didn’t sugarcoat his answer. “Obviously, she’s not to be trusted. The second she gets a chance, she’ll sell that or one of the other paintings and concoct some harebrained story that it was destroyed. For the right price, she’ll even make the evidence look convincing.”

Evan crossed his arms, showing off his bulging biceps. He was the muscle behind Frank Shaw’s money, and he always made sure they got what they wanted.

Frank puffed on the cigar, releasing rings of smoke into the air. “Yes. You’re right, of course. But she’s the only one good enough for the job.”

“Maybe. We could try to find someone else. There are plenty of good thieves to be found for the right price.”

“No.” Frank shook his head. “I’ve used her before and with good results. Plus, we don’t have that kind of time. Our counterpart has, no doubt, already made his play.”

“What would you like me to do?”

Frank tapped the end of his cigar on a nearby black ceramic ashtray. The inch-long finger of ash dropped into the bowl, and he resumed smoking. “Follow her. Make certain she doesn’t try anything fishy.” His eyes narrowed. “As for our friend’s asset, if she gets in the way, feel free to use whatever means necessary to slow her down.”