“You’ve got what it takes to pull this off. I know it, and you do, too. It’s not going to be easy, and it might not end up picture perfect—rarely do missions go as planned. But I’m in agreement with Polax. You’re the man. One more thing. When this is over, Casmir Balasi must be alive. If she’s not breathing air, you and I will be facing a firing squad, along with Polax. That’s no bullshit.”
Chapter 3
“Oh, Mama, your eye… Does it hurt?”
“Of course it hurts.”
“It looks…ghastly.”
“Thank you, Cassie. I feel so much better knowing that we both agree I look terrible.”
They had left Prague’s Ruzyne Airport on a commercial flight headed for the U.S. Ruza was dressed all in black. As usual, her silver-gray hair was neat and glamorous, twisted into a low knot at the nape of her neck, secured with a diamond clip.
Casmir always admired the fact that her mother looked stunning no matter what. Black eye and all, at age fifty-two, Ruza Balasi was a vintage classic. She knew what color looked best to complement her flawless complexion, and what to eat to keep her slender five-eight figure below 120.
Her mother slipped her sunglasses back into place. “Is this going to remain a surprise or are you going to tell me where we’re going? I haven’t taken a vacation with you in years. I’m looking forward to some extravagant shopping, and dining out every night.”
Casmir settled into her seat, contemplating how to tell her mother that their vacation spot wasn’t going to be a sandy beach in the Mediterranean, or a shopping extravaganza in Paris.
“This is a work vacation, Mama. I can’t play the entire time.”
“That’s fine. Just point me in the direction of the most expensive dress shop and I’ll be happy.”
“My boss said—”
“Such a nice man, Mr. Polax.”
Casmir raised her perfectly arched blond eyebrows. “Yes, isn’t he. Definitely one of a kind.”
“We like one of a kinds, don’t we, dear?” Ruza patted Casmir’s hand, then eyed her daughter’s scarf. “Is that a Naubow?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. There is nothing that compares with French silk. And these colors…they’re so vibrant. You really do look good in saguaro green and salmon. You should wear them more often.”
“What did you pack, Mama?”
“Not what I would have liked. With only one good eye to guide me through my wardrobe, I fear we’ll have to do some major shopping right away.”
From what Polax had told her, shopping was going to be a bit of a problem. How to tell Mama they were headed for the swamp, their babysitter a snake named Mr. Asshole?
Casmir continued to contemplate, then decided to hold off. Something ingenious would surely come to her in the next few hours.
Mama believed that Quest was an international real estate agency. Casmir would never have considered lying to her mother if she had thought she could handle the truth. But there was no way Mama would have understood. Her first question would have been, “Is it dangerous?”
After all, she was the offspring of Madame Ruza, a retired stage actress who ate fruit and salad to keep herself trim, and visited the beauty salon for a manicure and pedicure weekly. She enjoyed grand parties and sipping martinis dressed in negligees trimmed in fur with matching satin bedroom slippers.
College had bored her, and her runway modeling career had grown stale. But she had honestly never been bored a day in the five years since she’d worked for Quest. She’d come to accept that her present life had been one of those fated twists in the road. Who would have guessed she’d become a spy the day she had bumped into Polax on the street?
“On this trip I’m going to be inspecting a number of properties for an interested client,” Casmir began. “Property in Louisiana.”
“We’re going to the U.S.?”
“Yes. Louisiana.”
“There’s this decadent place there that I’ve read about. It’s called New Orleans. Wouldn’t it be grand to go there?”
“We’re flying into New Orleans.”
“Oh, this is so exciting.”
“Le Mystère,” Casmir added. “The place where we’ll be staying is called Le Mystère. I think it’s farther south.”
Pierce flew into New Orleans, then rented an open Jeep. The city brought back memories, and he found himself driving by the Glitterbug. He’d been a bartender there during his lean and mean years. Later, when Saber Lazie had felt he was ready, he’d graduated to the underground game room where real money could be made.
A den of muscle, guts and killer instincts, was how Saber had described the place when he’d first opened the door and Pierce had gotten his initial look at what Lazie’s twisted mind had designed below the Glitterbug.
After a few lessons from the master himself, he had stepped into a world that quickly separated the men from the boys. Before long he’d made a name for himself, and enough money to buy some land and build a cabin. A money-making job and regular meals—it was perfect for someone like him.
Then he’d met Merrick. The Onyxx commander had been seated in the front row one night. He’d sat at a table alone, his eyes never leaving the action. Days earlier Pierce had agreed to a high-stakes knife fight with a muscle-honed giant named Frog.
The win had been one of his toughest, but he’d managed to stay on his feet, and eventually become the winner of five thousand dollars.
The victory had put him at Merrick’s table hours later. The commander of Onyxx had bought him a drink, then laid his cards on the table. He said Pierce was a desirable candidate for a government special-ops team. He’d complimented him on his skill and survival techniques, saying that he was one of the best he’d seen anywhere, and that he’d been everywhere, so he should know. That there was a place for men like him.
The truth was Pierce had always felt alone, that there would never be a place for a man like him. But here was a stranger telling him he had value.
Merrick had sweetened the deal with a money figure that Pierce couldn’t have made in his entire lifetime. And so he had become one of Merrick’s boys. A man of purpose, one of the elite at Onyxx.
He didn’t stop in the Glitterbug, but he saw that it looked the same as it always had from the outside—a simple hole-in-the-wall bar, complete with strippers and loud music. It was a lucrative business for Saber Lazie, but he’d made his real fortune arranging fights underground.
The door was open, as always, welcoming the regulars and the curious. But few knew about Lazie’s exotic other world, or how much money changed hands in one night.
He glanced at the files in the seat beside him, still skeptical about the job. Bodyguard with a twist… This was a twisted mess, all right. Merrick hadn’t been kidding when he detailed the plan that he and Polax had come up with. He was supposed to keep Balasi hip-huggingly close until Petrov took the bait.
He wanted to put off his face-to-face meeting with her as long as he could, so he’d called Lazie to talk over the situation. Even though he was in New Orleans and could have picked up his cargo at the airport, he had persuaded his old friend to do the honors.
Besides, he had some catching up to do. There was someone he wanted to see in Le Mystère first. It had been four years since he’d seen sweet, generous Linet at the Ginger Root.
Lazie said she still worked behind the bar, serving beer with a smile. Keeping