Undercover Nightingale (6 page)

If she got onto the elevator and he joined her, what then?

She went past the elevators, realizing now that she was going to need some help to shake him. She entered the hotel bar and lounge, a modern den of red booths, gold tables, and a shiny circular bar. It was as extravagant as the hotel’s suites, and the crowd was dressed just as extreme. She stuck out like a homeless vagrant in a ballroom.

This would be no help at all.

She quickly disappeared in the crowd looking for the rest room sign.

She entered a short hall, then disappeared into the bathroom. There she pulled the sexy white sweater from the bag, as well as the jeans. She changed into the new clothes, stuffed the old ones into the bag, then pulled on the high boots, and wrapped the wide black belt around her slender waist. Digging deeper into the bag, she found the cashmere hat, gave her shoulder-length hair a twist, then tucked it under the black hat, pulling it off-side.

A little swipe with the compact, a touch of lip gloss, and two minutes later she left the bathroom looking like a style-conscious party girl in need of a drink to unwind from a long day.

It was true, it had been a long day and she was in need of a drink. She hadn’t been allowed one drop during her training.

She lingered in the hall, and when a party of three women left the bathroom she moved with them, then slid onto a stool at the bar.

She spotted the trench coat seated at a table near the entrance. After what had happened today, she knew it was the shooter, her training, past and present, giving her an edge.

Why he was after Filip remained a mystery. But after what had happened at Nescosto, she knew he must be the target.

Unsure her disguise would hold, she ordered a gin martini from the bartender then asked him if she could use the bar phone. When he hesitated she gave him a sexy smile, then winked. He handed her the phone, winking back. She asked him how she could reach suite 811, and he was only too happy to help her after she touched his hand and complimented him on his watch.

She didn’t want to call Toriago, but this was no time to gamble on a weak disguise.

“
Hola
.”

“I need you to come down here.”

“Allegra?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m in the bar, and—”

“I thought you were on a mission to buy medical supplies for Filip.”

“I was, but now I’m in the bar trying to shake my tail.”

“
Sì,
a party girl. I was right.”

“Tail as in being followed. I think it’s this afternoon’s shooter.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, I have something else to tell you. Toriago? Toriago—”

It took Ash a long ten minutes to recognize her. She had changed clothes. Why in the hell hadn’t she mentioned that on the phone?

He’d called Naldo and had him come up to the suite to babysit Filip while he went out.

As he moved through the crowd toward the bar, he scanned the faces, but it was hard to flag anyone without knowing who he was looking for.

He closed in on Allegra. He liked a woman in jeans and boots. A woman who was full of surprises. She was certainly a surprise. The white sweater exposed bare shoulders, and the soft black hat made her profile sharp and her green eyes even sexier than before.

“Another, miss?” The bartender asked.

“Yes. I’m waiting for someone and he’s late.”

“He’s here now.” Ash slid his hand along her trim waist. “
Hola
. You look…different.”

She turned slowly on the barstool. “You hung up too soon. I was going to tell you I’d changed.”

“Let’s find a booth.”

“I thought you came to get me out of here.”

“And I will, but we don’t want to lead our friend to our door, do we?” He tugged her off the barstool, but when she bent down to retrieve the bag, he said, “Leave it.”

“But—”

“The new look might fool your admirer, but the bag won’t.”

Ash gave the bag a kick and sent it farther beneath the bar. Then he took her arm and led her across the room to a dark booth that allowed him to see every corner of the crowded bar.

When she slid into the booth along the wall, Ash followed her. Sucking close as if they were a couple, he asked, “Where is he?”

“Over there. The table by the door. The trench coat wearing the hat.”

“Do you recognize him?”

“No. But that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know Filip’s enemies.”

The admission could mean she hadn’t been with Filip that long, or that he didn’t share his business with her. The one thing Ash knew for sure was that she was handling the situation like a pro. She was calm and composed just like when she was in the car and he’d put the pressure on.

That only came with practice.

“Our friend must be recognizable to someone or he wouldn’t be working so hard to disguise himself.”

“I thought that, too.”

The waitress came by. Allegra ordered another martini and Ash ordered a Coke.

“You don’t drink? That was why the bar in your suite was empty.”

“No, I don’t drink.”

She tasted her drink. Savored her. “Moderation is the key to life’s little evils. A man who indulges in excess is a weak man.”

“I admit to few weaknesses, but liquor and beautiful women can be a deadly combination, so I’ve given up liquor.”

That brought a smile to her face, and he smiled back, then glanced toward the door. The trench coat hadn’t moved.

Time lagged.

Ash touched her bare shoulder. “Is this your normal style?”

“I can be whatever I need to be.”

“Right now you need to be my woman. Move a little closer.”

“We should be getting back to Filip. He could wake up and try to get out of bed.”

“He won’t be getting out of bed tonight.”

“You don’t know him.”

“How well do you?”

“Well enough to know that he won’t stay down long. Look. He’s leaving.”

They watched the trench coat stand and step away from the table, but he never left. Instead he began to stroll through the bar searching the faces in the crowd.

“He’s coming this way.” Ash tucked her deeper into the booth to hide her.

“Now what?”

Ash turned to study the body beneath the trench coat. If it was a man, he was shorter than most, with more of a sauntering gait than a swagger.

The picture Stillman had given him of Jazmin Grant popped in his head. The blonde was five-seven and curvy in all the right places. Just maybe their friend was a woman. If Grant was here, that would shorten his mission.

“He’s getting closer,” Allegra said. “We need to get out of here.”

“If we get up, he’ll tag you for sure.” Ash slid his arm around her and pulled her against him.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving you…again.” He lowered his head and brushed her lips with his, paused, then kissed her again.

“It’s time to say thank you. And be convincing. Perhaps even a little excessive. You’re a one-man woman, remember, and right now, I’m that man.”

A
sh shoved Allegra into his suite and followed after her, but not before he looked back to make sure that they weren’t being followed. They had slipped out of the hotel lounge after the trench coat had given up and left the bar.

He had been torn whether to take chase, or get Allegra back upstairs. If it was Grant, and she was working alone, he should have confronted her then and there, but he couldn’t be sure it was her, or that she was acting alone. Then there was his cover to consider.

He’d made the only decision he could make at the time, to protect Allegra first and hope that he’d be able to locate Grant afterward.

He closed the door just as Naldo rolled off the couch. “Everything okay,
prim
—boss?”

“Who’s he?”

“How’s Petrov?”

“Still sleeping.”

She spun around. “I said, who is he?”

“Allegra, meet Naldo.”

She glanced back at his cousin, gave him a long hard look. “You’re the…chauffeur. The guy who drives like he’s on speed.”

“
Sì
. Chauffeur. Errand boy. Watch dog. Vigorous bull… It’s a pleasure,
señorita
.”

Naldo was grinning like a puppet on a string. The truth was, he loved women—all women. In the old days he hadn’t gone a day without a different face in his bed. Well, Toriago hadn’t either, not until he’d met Lolita.

The old memories surfaced, and they were as unexpected as the hard-on that had been dropped in his lap downstairs when Allegra had kissed him in the bar.

He had felt dead for close to a year, but with one kiss, Filip’s woman had plugged him in and turned him on. It was like lightning had struck and his body had suddenly gone off strike, or at least had awakened from a long sleep.

As much as he would have liked to celebrate the fact that he was back in business, he was the first to admit that this wasn’t the time to be thinking about sex and personal achievements.

“You all right, boss?”

Ash blinked out of his muse. “Wait for me in the hall, Naldo. I’ll be right there.” After his cousin left, he said, “Stay in the suite with Petrov. Don’t leave for any reason.”

“Are you going back to the bar for my bag?”

“The bag isn’t important right now.”

“But—”

“Lock the door and don’t let anyone in.”

“Does that include you?”

She had her chin hiked in the air and her hands planted on her slender hips. She really did look good in those jeans.

Ash grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the couch. “I’ve got a key. I’ll let myself in.”

He left the suite, then headed for the elevator with Naldo.

“Where are we going,
primo?
”

“On a witch hunt. Today’s shooter could be in the hotel.”

In the elevator Ash gave Naldo a quick rundown on what had happened in the bar. When they reached the lobby, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit a button. In seconds the picture of Jazmin Grant popped up on his screen.

“Here’s what she looks like. If she ditched the disguise you’ll be looking for a brown-eyed blonde with killer curves. If I’m wrong, keep your eyes open for a trench coat wearing a hat.”

Together they searched the hotel, but after two hours, Ash had no choice but to give up.

“Sonofabitch.”

“You want me to keep looking,
primo?
”

“Hang out in the bar a while. Maybe she’ll show back up. I’m going to get some air and check around outside.”

While Naldo headed for the bar, Ash exited the hotel. It was dark out and colder. He pulled up the collar on his jacket, lit a cigarette, and crossed the street. He should have been dissecting the situation with Jazmin Grant, but instead he found himself thinking about Allegra and the moment she had put her arms around his neck and kissed him with enough lip suction to clean a clogged pipe—his pipe.

It was as he started into the second block that he picked up a tail. Ash tossed his cigarette and ducked into an alley. Like clockwork, his shadow followed him.

In the alley he found an alcove and slipped into it. He didn’t pull his gun—there was no need. The minute the shadow entered the alley, Ash stepped out to confront him.

“You’re slipping, old man.”

When Sly McEwen drew closer, Ash saw he was wearing a grin.

“If my intention was to keep you in the dark, you still would be.”

That was probably true. Ash had a wealth of respect for his Onyxx comrade. Sly was as smart as he was tough.

“I saw you in the bar.”

“I saw you, too.”

“What are you doing here?” Ash asked.

“Merrick’s idea.”

“To keep an eye on me?”

“He’s had you followed since you left Washington. I took over this morning.”

Ash leaned against the building. “I know Merrick is territorial when it comes to his men, but I told him that I could—”

“He knows you can handle yourself. It’s Stillman he’s worried about. He doesn’t trust him.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Three. After hearing what he pulled I don’t like him, and I don’t even know him. I think Merrick’s feeling guilty over what you’re sacrificing for Onyxx.”

“He doesn’t need to. You would have done the same thing.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I’m here to watch your ass, and to make sure Petrov stays alive. The data you and Pierce took from Nescosto proves that the Petrov brothers were laundering the Chameleon’s money. At the moment it’s the only lead we have to getting that bastard. You know Merrick, everything he does circles back to the Chameleon.”

“Did you see what happened this afternoon at Ballvaro?”

“I was there. Tell me Petrov’s alive.”

“He took a hit, but he’ll live. He’s in my suite.”

“Talk about timing.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t have planned it better. Merrick’s not the only one interested in Petrov. Stillman needs him alive, too.”

“What’s Stillman’s interest?”

“I’m on a recovery mission. Stolen data from the SDECE.”

“Who’s the brunette with the sweet mouth, and what does she have to do with it?”

“Her name’s Allegra, but I don’t know how she figures in yet.”

“At least the working conditions aren’t too painful.”

Ash smiled. “I’ll admit that she’s easy on the eyes.” He explained the subterfuge that had gone on in the bar. He might have tried to explain it too much by the look on Sly’s face—his grin never wavered. He finished with, “She claims she’s Filip’s woman.”

“You don’t buy it?”

“Petrov’s gay. At least that’s what it says in his profile.”

“Maybe he likes variety in his bed.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

It was more than a feeling, but Ash wasn’t going to go into that with Sly until he tested out his theory first. He’d learned something in the bar, and it would require a little experiment later.

Sly asked, “What about this stolen data?”

“A rogue agent at the SDECE sold them out. The disk is full of access codes. Stillman thinks Filip is here to have Casso Salavich decode the information. I’m suppose to infiltrate Salavich’s organization, locate the data before it can be deciphered, then run down Jazmin Grant and bring both back to Stillman.”

“Grant? Didn’t she die at Nescosto?”

“Stillman thinks she’s alive, and I’m starting to believe that he’s right. I think she’s here.”

“Here?”

“I think Grant could be this afternoon’s shooter, and the tail Allegra picked up that followed her into the bar in the lobby. I wanted to flag you, but I couldn’t chance blowing my cover. Why she’s here, I don’t know. Maybe she’s trying to get the disk back, or maybe she was double-crossed. I won’t know that until I find her.”

“If Petrov has the data on him—”

“He doesn’t. I checked.”

“Could it have been destroyed when his car blew up this afternoon?”

“It’s possible, but for now, I’ve got to believe it’s still out there.”

“How does Stillman plan for you to get inside Salavich’s organization? When I was at Ballvaro this afternoon, I counted over two dozen guards. The grounds are pruned lean—that means there are surveillance cameras. Damn hard to get in without being seen or setting off an alarm.”

“Somehow Stillman learned who I am.”

“What do you mean, who you are?”

“Before Onyxx, I was someone else.”

“Weren’t we all.”

“I changed my name when I came to Onyxx. It wouldn’t have worked any other way. I’m the son of Estabon Toriago. My father controlled eighty percent of the drug traffic in Mexico before his death. When you talk to Merrick tell him that Marco Toriago has risen from the ashes and is about to get back in the drug trade with Casso Salavich. At least that’s my cover.”

Sly joined Ash against the wall in the alley and lit a cigarette. “Is that why you were there this afternoon?”

“I called him when I arrived yesterday. He invited me to Ballvaro for a meeting.”

“Then all hell broke loose with the shooter.”

“That’s right.”

Sly dug in his pocket and pulled out an electronic tracker. “Can you plant this bug on Petrov? That way we can keep him close.”

“I don’t need it. I’ve already tagged him. But he won’t be leaving the hotel too soon. He can’t even get out of bed right now. Still, if and when he does, we’ll be able to follow his every move.”

“What room are you in?”

“811. And you?”

“412.”

“Stay out of sight, and I’ll contact you when I know something.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“You mean Naldo? He’s my cousin. I needed some backup. He’s posing as my chauffeur. He’s cool under fire.” Ash grinned. “But I guess I should have known that Merrick wouldn’t leave me out in the cold. I’m glad you’re here. Do me a favor and run a check on Jazmin Grant. Stillman gave me her profile, but it’s full of holes. He’s covering something up and I want to know what it is.”

Allegra checked on Filip again. Toriago had been gone over two hours and she moved quietly into the room. He was still sleeping, and she walked to the bed and sat down beside him. She slowly pulled back the sheet. He stirred, moaned, but didn’t wake up.

The wound looked horrible, charred flesh and blackened blood. It needed to be cleaned, then bandaged. She could have done it if she hadn’t left her bag at the bar.

She left the bedroom. She was getting tired of not knowing the reason she was in Budapest. She didn’t trust Filip. Not like she had Yurii. She should call Cyrus and tell him that Filip had been shot. Surely he would either give her a reason to stay, or tell her to fly back to Athens.

She knew who Casso Salavich was. Knew he was a powerful man in the criminal world in Europe. Perhaps they were there to take him down?

She didn’t like being kept in the dark, and she didn’t like the situation of owing a stranger for his hospitality—a stranger who was into nasty business.

The direction of her thoughts took a sudden turn, and Allegra touched her lips. Toriago wasn’t all talk and smooth moves. He knew how to kiss a woman and make her remember it. Make her want more. She couldn’t blame him entirely for what had happened. She had kissed him back downstairs, and she had played the game perfectly.

But that game wouldn’t have been necessary if she knew why the hell she was in Budapest. The bottom line was she was going to call Cyrus and demand a few answers. And the sooner the better, while Filip was still on his back.

She took a shower. Toriago hadn’t said where he was going, but she suspected he’d gone looking for the mystery man in the trench coat. Out of the shower, she dried her hair, then found Toriago’s shaving kit and rummaged through it. He’d been telling the truth about an antibiotic for her cut. She used it, along with his toothbrush—after all, he had offered it to her.

She left the bathroom wearing the white robe she’d found behind the door—compliments of the hotel.

Toriago still wasn’t back when she strolled into the living room. She found wine and gin behind the small half-circle bar. He must have had some sent up while she was in the lobby. She poured a glass of wine and stepped out on the balcony.

The moon was out and the cool air made her shiver. She tugged the ends of the white robe together, pulled up the collar. Sipped the wine.

The city lights sent a golden glow over the street below. Budapest was beautiful at night, a place she would enjoy if she were on her own time. She could see the shadow of the Buda Hills in the distance, Parliament, and the Danube at its narrowest as it passed through the city.

It was by luck that she was on the balcony when Toriago exited the alley. She watched him cross the street and head back to the hotel. His lazy sauntering gait was back.

Yes, she’d noticed his confident stride, just like she’d noticed everything else, from his nice ass and powerhouse shoulders to his hard abdomen. Scars and all, he had the complete package.

But he was about more than a great body, a handsome face, and excellent taste in hotel suites. He had spent time in prison, and was about to climb into bed with Casso Salavich.

She was caught up in watching Toriago when another man exited the same alley. She studied the second man. He didn’t cross the street. Instead he flagged a taxi.

She was still standing on the balcony, wrapped in a white robe fifteen minutes later when Toriago came through the front door carrying the bag he’d insisted she leave behind in the bar. She came back into the living room sliding the balcony door shut.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“Meaning?”

“I’d just as soon not everyone know we’re on the eighth floor. Someone blew up your car, and a few hours ago you were followed. Standing out there wearing that is like waving a flag. You could be picked off from across the street.”

“Afraid for me, or yourself?”

“I’d like to avoid being shot today if I can.”

“You’re a tough guy. Prison memories and a big bad scar. What’s one more to add to your bragging rights?”

He set her bag down next to the couch. “Have any scars you’d like to show me and brag about?”