Page 142 of Double Down
“Two minutes of blind footage,” Atticus adds. “Then I bring the cameras back and we just pretend nothing happened.”
The latch on the door doesn't move.
Around us, the hotel hums with activity. Somewhere above us I can hear the faintly distinctive sound of a vacuum running lines into a carpet.
Our little band of merry men is almost enough to drive me to drink. I’m the one who insisted that Phoenix wait in the penthouse with Zeus to keep her company, so why do I feel like I betrayed her? She even swore she’d behave, but I couldn’t chance it.
“The cameras are dark,” Atticus says. The corridor dims a degree that only men like us notice. “If he’s coming, it’s now.”
Nothing.
Storm takes one step toward the door and then back. Maverick flicks his eyes at me, communicating a message I understand because we share a brain.Call it?
“We’ll be back up in three,” Atticus says. “Two. One…and we’re live.”
I hold the quiet for one more count. Then I nod once. “We’re done. Pull it.”
Storm pockets the blade without looking at it. Maverick pushes off the machine. We peel out of the hall and take the stairwell.
“Danner didn’t ping a tower near here,” Atticus reports as we hit the landing. “His burner hopped midtown and died. The harbor was a decoy. He never intended to walk into our trap.”
“Then someone used us as a decoy…a distraction. There’s no way he’d just walk away,” I say.
We come out into the penthouse hall. I don’t like the way the light looks on our door—there’s something faintly ominous about it, even though it’s the same light as it always is. Unsettled, I swipe the card, irritated when it takes three swipes for the light to blink green.
The suite opens on a kind of quiet that isn’t rest.
“Phoenix?” Maverick calls out lightly, almost playfully. I can’t blame him after the day we’ve had. But he’s going to have to share her with us today. I need Phoenix’s sweet heat for myself too.
No answer.
Storm goes first, eyes doing the sweep. He stops at the window. The blanket lies in its usual restless heap. No dog, though. No girl. Just a still-hot cup of coffee on the table
Atticus is already on his tablet, pulling up the video feeds to locate her. “Fucking Phoenix…she never listens…” he mutters. His expression goes tight. “Wait…”
“Thirteen minutes ago,” he says, flat. “Damn it…she took the fucking service elevator to the service bay corridor. Happened less than five minutes before the drop. She should be close.”
Maverick is in the kitchen, riffling a stack of white napkins like a magician who hates his craft. Under the third one: her phone. Face down.
He brings it to the island and we surround the small piece of metal and glass that’s our only real clue to figuring out what was going on with our girl.
We press the button and key in the code that we set, and messages pop up.
Unknown
Time’s up, Phoenix.
I tried to do this the nice way.
Remember that you asked for this.
Video Link Attached
I click the link and watch as a very alive and beaten Mr. Jones appears on the screen. His nose is bleeding, and it looks like he’s got a black eye forming.
“I’m so sorry Nixie,” he sobs. “I thought I would be able to win it all back. But then he made me sign the contract. I’m so sorry, my little girl. I had to give himyou.”
The video cuts to black and it takes every single ounce of self restraint not to break the damn phone.
