Damn, she did it, Beth thought. She’s got me.
She could see in Allison’s eyes that she knew she had won. All of Beth’s arguments fell mute. All the energy she’d built up preparing to go toe-to-toe with this woman, with the organization, collapsed.
Allison said, “Are you interested?”
“Of course. How could I refuse now? Who will I become?”
“A very wealthy, jet-setting widow and businesswoman.”
“As of last night, I’ve become a little short of funds.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll fund this operation. Your new accounts will have plenty of money in them. But don’t lose it all.”
Beth smiled. “I usually win. What’s my new identity?”
“Anne Hurley, a rich widow with two major interests that happen to be Giambi’s passion—Formula One racing and poker. You’re going to arrive in Monaco with all the trimmings of a ‘whale’ who’s looking for some action at the tables and also looking at the possibility of investing in Giambi’s dream of fielding a Formula One team.” Allison slid the envelope over to Beth. “You’ll find your new passport, credit cards, driver’s license, et cetera, inside this envelope.”
“I know nothing about Formula One. Vegas is a NASCAR town.”
Allison pulled an Apple laptop from her shoulder bag. “Everything you could possibly need to know is stored on this laptop.” Allison handed the laptop to Beth. “You also have access to all the data we have on Giambi and his casino.”
Allison continued, “Right now Giambi is rounding up investors. Before you make an appearance at his casino, your money will arrive ahead of you for deposit toward your gaming. And we’ll see to it you have an established reputation, a past and the financial records to go with your new identity. Everything is being inserted into the digital universe. If he does a background check on you, and he will, you’re going to come up as the ideal candidate for his needs. He’s ambitious. He’s even floated an idea to the mayor of Las Vegas about bringing Formula One there.”
“Why would Vegas want Formula One?”
“Because it’s the elite venue in racing, catering to the international jet set. And it wouldn’t impact NASCAR negatively. Their fan base is rock solid. Giambi seems to be trying to create a legacy. He’s also looking into building a casino in Kestonia. He apparently believes that Eastern Europe could be the next Vegas. And he might be getting ready to leave Monaco in the near future. Prince Albert is trying to clean up Monaco’s act. As Somerset Maugham once said, Monaco is ‘a sunny place for shady people.’”
Beth nodded. “Sounds like a fit description for the old Vegas as well.”
“Prince Albert wants any money laundering in the principality ended. He’s trying to cooperate with the European Union banking regulations to get rid of illicit tax havens, and the presence of the Cosa Nostra. When and if this becomes a reality, Giambi will have to move his operations elsewhere.”
Allison pulled out a photo from her laptop bag and handed it to Beth. “Giambi’s Formula One driver, John David ‘JD’ Hawke. He’s a bit of a bad boy who’s been involved in some battles that got him suspended from Formula One. He’s reinstated now, but needs a ride. He likes fast cars and hot women. A little mixing of pleasure with business might just fast-track your operation.”
Beth stared at the photo of JD. He had it going on, no doubt. Right up to the cocky I-get-what-I-want smile, his blond cropped hair, smoky blue eyes and a slight dimple in his left cheek. She looked up at Allison and said facetiously, “Mixing pleasure and business dulls my edge.”
“Getting close to JD will make your penetration of Giambi’s computers and files easier. But it’s your call.”
“How close is JD to Giambi?”
“Very. Giambi has all but adopted JD Hawke. He’s given him an apartment adjoining his sumptuous fifteen-thousand-foot Playboy-mansion style suite atop the casino. A lot of partying goes on up there.”
“A real player.” Beth stared at the picture for a moment longer then slipped it into the envelope.
“You should have everything you need, including the latest hacking software. If you’re missing something, contact Delphi. You’re leaving for Nice at five-thirty this evening. It’s a short chopper-hop from there to Monaco. A villa has been rented in Monaco for your use. Take a couple days to prep. And enjoy the Mediterranean lifestyle.”
Allison glanced at her watch, then stood up, saying, “I have a meeting.”
Beth had one more question. “Just who is Delphi?”
Allison gave her a wry smile. “That’s strictly need-to-know.”
As they left the office, Allison said, “Oracle agents and Athena graduates have finally become a force in this town. The walls of the old boys’ clubs have been breached. Some, of course, are fighting back. We still have a long way to go to achieve our final goals and we can’t allow this current problem with Arachne to derail us.”
Every Athena grad knew what those goals were. A woman in the White House and parity, or dominance, across the board.
Allison stopped and looked Beth in the eyes. “Good luck, Beth. I hope Salvatore Giambi gives up what we’re looking for, and I hope you find what you’re looking for as well.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ve made an appointment for you in thirty minutes with Randolph. He can help with a new look. He’s very good.”
She gave Beth Randolph’s card, shook her hand and headed for the door to her office. Then she stopped and turned to Beth. “Oh, by the way, do you tango?”
The question caught Beth off guard. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes, actually. I’m not great, but—”
“Good. Get yourself a tango outfit. Giambi loves to tango. I understand he’s an excellent dancer.”
It never failed, one hour with Allison and you walked out ready to give your all to the mission. The woman, Beth mused, would have made a fantastic no-limit poker player, but then those skills were also the same ones necessary for success on the big stage of politics and power.
As for Salvatore Giambi, he had suddenly become the most important person in the world to Beth. He was the key to protecting Athena, and he was the key, she hoped, to finding her father’s killer.
On her way to her appointment with Randolph, Beth got a call from Detective Ayers informing her that Curtis was in stable condition. “He’s going to survive, and we have one of the shooters in custody. He’s not talking, but that’s a temporary condition, I’m sure.”
She told Ayers where she left the bike at McCarran, and thanked him for calling with the information about Curtis.
Beth didn’t know what problems she would have to deal with in Vegas over the shooting and her leaving town, but they would have to wait until she got back.
“I’d like you to come into the office to answer a few questions,” he said.
“I will,” Beth promised. “But I have some important business to take care of first.”
Relieved with the good news, Beth ended the call and wondered just what JD Hawke was up to at that exact moment, and what type of woman would get under his skin.
She had thirty minutes to figure it out.