Page 63 of Jack of Hearts
Alex mentally rolled his eyes. A fruitcake had more sense than the woman. The man finished fondling her, moving on to frisk Ramon. The warehouse interior was dimly lit by one lightbulb hanging from a long wire directly overhead, making it difficult to see much past where they stood. Alex sensed they were being watched, though.
Once the guard was satisfied, he picked up the AK-47 he’d placed on the table before searching their bodies. The two gun-toting thugs stepped back behind the table, and from a door on the far wall, a man dressed as if he were on the way to a society ball walked out.
Before he could even see the man’s face, Alex sensed power emitting from the dude. He was big, his long strides were assertive, his broad shoulders were posture perfect, and his chin was held high. Tinted glasses hid his eyes. He stopped just outside the circle of light that the weak bulb gave off.
The man’s gaze traveled from Ramon, to Trina, and then to Alex, staying on him the longest. For the first time since he’d become an FBI agent, working undercover operations, Alex had the urge to squirm. Who the hell was this dude? The mystery man gave a slight nod to one of his men.
“He would like to view the merchandise,” the bodyguard said.
The whole setup was meant to intimidate them, but Alex, feeling ornery, said, “And we’d like to see the money.” That intense gaze focused back on him, but Alex refused to cower. Raising a brow, he stared right back at the man. There was something about him that reminded Alex of James Bond. It was his evening clothes, his arrogance, and his coolness. As much as Alex hated to admit it, the dude was pretty damn cool.
As if highly amused, the man lifted one side of his mouth in the slightest of smiles. He snapped his fingers. From the same door, another man walked out, carrying a silver briefcase. He brought it to the table, opening it. James Bond gave another nod, this one directed at Alex.
“Check it out, Trina,” Alex said, refusing to take the bait. It was obvious by now that Bond wasn’t going to talk. Alex watched as Trina fanned the packs of bills, ignoring the piercing glares coming from Ramon. If Alex had to guess, Ramon was afraid of pissing off James Bond. Too bad.
Trina closed the briefcase. “Good to go.” She flashed Bond a sultry smile. “I’m Trina. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr....”
The man bowed, putting his hand over his heart. He nodded to one of his guards.
“Mr.X,” the guard said.
Mr.X? There were rumors of a big-time dealer everyone called Mr.X who operated out of Atlanta. The word was that he controlled the state of Georgia, and if the stories were to be believed, he was looking to expand his operation into Florida. If this was the same man, his being here gave credibility to the rumor. No agency, state or federal, had been able to put a name to him. And if it was the same man, and they were able to take him down, their boss and several bosses above him were going to be very happy.
Damn, Alex couldn’t wait to tell his brothers. He eyed Mr.X. The dude was smooth. He kept his features hidden by the tinted glasses and the shadows, no voice to identify, and no name. And if Alex wasn’t mistaken, the man was wearing an expensive wig. Taylor and Rand would follow him when he left, hopefully learning who he was.
The guard who’d been doing all the talking pointed to the table. “The merchandise.”
Alex opened the back door of Ramon’s car. When both guards aimed their AK-47s at him, he paused. “The bags are in the backseat.” One guard nodded, but both kept their weapons on him. He grabbed the two large totes, handing them to Ramon.
Why hadn’t X simply had one of his men do the deal? Why risk any of them even knowing he existed? Ego? Did he enjoy toying with them? Or maybe he didn’t trust his men with the amount of money and merchandise involved in this deal.
As one of the guards used a kit to test the heroin, Alex kept his gaze pinned on X, memorizing everything he could about the man—mannerisms, build, height, weight. Were his shoulders made broader by pads? Maybe.
Once the heroin was deemed acceptable, X nodded to one of the guards, who picked up the heavy totes with the heroin. X then tipped his hat before walking away, the guard at his side.
“You can go now,” the remaining guard said, motioning at their car with his AK-47.
Court stacked the packs of money from the briefcase on the table. “Six hundred thousand to the penny.”
Alex eyed the money. “Anyone want to go on a shopping spree?” They’d closed up the bar before gathering at their favorite after-hours table, each with a beer.
Court snorted. “Sure. I could use a few new shirts.”
“If you’re going to go to the dark side, have a better reason than new shirts,” Nate said. “Go back over everything again.”
Alex set down his bottle, twirling it in a circle. “Do you want me to start with Trina humping Ramon’s leg?” He narrowed his eyes at Nate. “Oh, right, I did tell you about that. You laughed. You should be more sympathetic to your poor baby brother’s sensibilities.”
“If you’re angling for hazard pay, forget it.” Nate smirked. “I could probably arrange for trauma counseling.”
“She didn’t,” Court said, grinning.
“Oh yeah, she did. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Let’s just skip to us arriving at the warehouse.” After relating the events of the night, he said, “X seemed to treat the whole thing as a game. The word that comes to mind isarrogant. Do you think he’stheMr.X we’ve been hearing about?”
“If he is, and we manage to arrest him, even the director is going to know your name,” Nate said. “Rand and Taylor will report in as soon as they see where he goes.”
Alex couldn’t care less if the top boss knew who he was. “As long as we keep an eye on the heroin. I don’t like that much being out of our sight.” He wanted this operation over and done with. Although they had no choice but to allow drug deals to happen during an operation, he hated that he played any part in letting that shit hit the streets.
Nate’s phone buzzed, and Alex listened as his brother talked to Taylor. “I’ll notify Rothmire,” Nate said. “Hopefully our SWAT team will get there before they take off. If not, shoot the plane’s tires out, but don’t approach. They’re heavily armed. Stay safe, and you and Rand come to my place as soon as you can. We’ll regroup.”
