Livia Lone

61-NOW

Livia came out of the elevators and made an immediate right. The fourth floor was a repeat of the third-the lighting, the thick carpeting, the hush. With one difference-the man in the dark suit seated outside the suite at the end of the corridor.

Livia recognized him instantly-the blond crew cut had some gray in it now, but the protruding ears were the same, and so was the solid build. Matthias Redcroft. World’s most versatile “legislative aide.”

She’d already worked out how she would handle this eventuality, and didn’t hesitate or otherwise show any sign of concern. She just walked slowly in his direction, checking room numbers left and right as though searching for one in particular. She wasn’t worried Redcroft would recognize her. They’d only spoken once, and the last time he had seen her, she had been a skinny teenager. She was a different person now, and disguised on top of it.

Still, as she got closer, her heart began to pound. Redcroft looked up from his chair, watching closely. She kept one hand on the strap of her handbag and the other loose at her side, sauntering along like a high-end call girl dispatched to service some rich guest of the hotel.

When she reached the suite, she stopped and looked at Redcroft.

He raised his eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

“Are you the one who called?” she said, releasing a trace of Lahu into her accent.

“I’m sorry?”

She pointed to the number alongside the door to the suite. “Room 428.”

“I don’t think anybody called you from that room.”

“This is where I was told to go.”

“Told by whom?”

“My boss.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“The service.”

“Look, I don’t know what service you’re talking about, but it sounds like there’s been a mistake. Why don’t you check with your boss and get it straightened out?”

“I can’t reach him now. Anyway, his information is always good.”

“Yeah? How’d you get past the guy checking keys in front of the elevators?”

“They know who I am. Now, could you please excuse me? It took over an hour to get here and I’m already late.”

He looked her up and down. “What do you charge?”

Shit, was he going to try to just pay her fee to get rid of her? She shook her head. “Too much for you, I think.”

“Ha. Try me.”

She thought of a ridiculous number. “I charge fifty thousand baht,” she said. That was close to fifteen hundred dollars. Doubtful he’d cough up that much just to get rid of a Thai hooker.

He leaned back in the chair and looked her up and down again. “You know what?” he said. “It’s about time for my break anyway.” He inclined his head toward the room to the left of the suite. “Tell you what, that’s my room right there. Why don’t we make me your appointment. We’ll fix the mistake that way, okay? And everyone goes home happy.”

She thought quickly. She’d been hoping she could persuade him to knock and get Lone to open the door. But adjacent rooms, one of them a suite-probably there was an interior connecting door. She could make that work, too. And if she was wrong, she’d just keep improvising.

“You seem like a nice guy,” she said, making sure not to play it too eager. “But I have a client. How about you in two hours?”

“I am a nice guy. And two hours from now won’t work. So I’ll tell you what. Because you’re already here, I’ll give you an extra ten thousand for blowing off your other client. Okay?”

She frowned. “My boss… he won’t be happy.”

“Well, he’s the one who sent you to the wrong place to begin with, right?”

She gave him an uncertain smile. “I guess so.”

“All right,” he said, coming easily to his feet. He pulled a room key from his jacket pocket, walked over to his door, opened it, then held it for her. “Please.”

She had hoped he would go first. That would have allowed her to slip the pepper spray from her purse while his back was turned. Beyond which, after that near miss in San Jose, she didn’t like turning her back on a man when she walked into a room. But it would look strange if she objected. Anyway, the main thing was, she would be able to get out the pepper spray easily enough while he was behind her.

She walked in. The lights were already on. A long, wood-paneled, marble-floored corridor, the room itself visible at the end of it. The purse strap was over her shoulder, the bag itself below her elbow, and she slipped her hand unobtrusively inside and curled her fingers around the canister, her thumb on the trigger.

She kept moving. She heard the door close behind her, the bolt closing into place with a dull mechanical clack. She heard his footsteps, about ten feet behind her. She’d walk into the room, stop, and let him move in just a little closer. Then she’d turn and spray him. Follow up with the Kubotan until he was down and disabled. Finish him. See if he had a key to the senator’s suite. If he didn’t, kick down the adjoining door. If there was no adjoining door, go back into character and return to the main door of the suite.

She took in an immaculate king-sized bed. Pewter carpeting, mahogany furnishings. She heard his footfalls moving up the corridor behind her. She breathed in deeply. Let it out. Braced to spin-

“I don’t know what’s in your hand, Livia, but unless it’s faster than the pistol I’m pointing at your spine, I’d recommend you put it back in your purse.”

She froze. Livia?

“That’s right, I know who you are. Just let it drop, Livia. Back in the purse. Slowly.”

She glanced back. Saw the gun. He raised it-a good, two-handed grip.

“Turn the fuck around,” he said, his voice louder now. “Face forward.”

She did.

“Now, last chance to drop whatever that is in the purse. And I won’t have to shoot you in the back, okay?”

She dropped the pepper spray into the bag and slowly raised her hands, the fingers splayed. How the hell had he recognized her? Could they have known she was coming? Could Becky Lone have… no. It made no sense. Even if the woman had believed Livia might go to Bangkok, she never would have warned her brother. Whatever this was, it wasn’t that.

“Good, keep those hands up. Now walk. Don’t turn around. You know, you’re pretty good. You probably could have fooled almost anyone, but unfortunately for you, I never forget a face. Never. It’s one of the reasons the senator pays me the big bucks.”

She moved farther into the room. All right, it sounded like just bad luck that he’d recognized her. Not good, but not as dire as if this were an ambush. He was improvising now as much as she was.

“Even so,” he went on, “I gotta say, you almost had me. Out of context, the makeup, the glasses, the wig… took me a minute to place you.”

She saw the adjoining door. Whatever happened, it was going to happen in here, or in the suite. They wouldn’t be going back to the corridor.

“I mean, shit, you look like a real, high-class Thai hooker. Hell, I’d fuck you. Maybe I even will.”

She said nothing. Her only move was to wait for an opening.

Or make one.

“Well, we’ll check with the senator first. He might have some ideas. He usually does. You want to know something weird? I think he’s actually going to be glad to see you. It’s been a long time. What have you been up to?”

He didn’t know, then. About the judo, about her being a cop. They hadn’t kept tabs since she’d left Llewellyn. They’d look at her as just a slightly older version of that scared, helpless little girl.

That was her play. Maybe her only play. To foster that impression. Make them underestimate her. An instructor had once told her that when you recognize someone is dangerous, it automatically makes him less dangerous.

But the opposite was also true.

“So, Livia, this is what you’re going to do. First, I want you to slowly lower that bag to the floor. And just by the way? If you think I’d be afraid to shoot you because of the noise, you’d be wrong. The Orient has the thickest walls in Bangkok. You could set off a fucking suitcase nuke in one of these rooms, and no one would even be disturbed in his slumber. On top of which, for security, the senator always takes both adjacent rooms and the one below. We clear on that?”

She did as he said. She still had the Boker, but she didn’t think he would be stupid enough not to search her. His tactics so far had been sound.

She heard him pick up the bag. “What do we have in here? Oh, pepper spray. Well, that would have hurt. And I guess you were going to hit me with this Kuboton after that? What, did you take some kind of self-defense class? What is this? What are you trying to do?”

She said nothing.

“And what’s this? Some sort of cell phone tracker?”

The modified Gossamer. Again she said nothing.

“How’d you get hold of something like this?”

“I bought it.”

“Where?”

“Here. In Bangkok.”

“How’d you get the senator’s cell phone number?”

“Private detective.”

“That’s a pretty good private detective. What’s his name?”

He had the interrogation instincts of a cop. Time to change the dynamic. “I’m not saying anything else,” she said. “Not until you tell me what happened to my sister.”

“Is that was this is about? After all these years, that?”

“Where is she?”

“That’s up to the senator. Maybe if you’re good, really good, he’ll tell you.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Well, now, that kind of decision is above my pay grade. We’ll talk to him, though. I told you, I have a feeling he’s going to be happy to see you. But first, I want you to put your palms against the wall next to that interior door. At about, oh, say, tit level. Then I want you to step back and spread your legs until your elbows and knees are straight and your weight is on those palms. You with me? I’m going to pat you down. Make sure whatever you brought with you was limited to your purse.”

She recognized the commands. She’d patted down countless suspects from the same position precisely because it made sudden aggressive action so difficult. She’d been hoping he would take her so lightly that he’d be sloppy, but no, so far he was being careful.

She did as he said.

“More, Livia. Feet farther apart. And farther from the wall.”

Again, she complied. On the other side of the door, she heard… was that a scream? Something high and plaintive, like a child in pain. It was so muffled she wasn’t sure.

She heard Redcroft move up close. Felt his hand along her back-his left, she thought. Not that it mattered which. She sensed his gun hand was well retracted, and regardless, a disarm from this position was damn near impossible.

He ran his hand up her left side, then her right. He stepped in close, between her legs, his crotch against her ass.

“You don’t have anything in there, do you, Livia?” He rubbed himself against her. “I don’t have to search you in there, do I?”

Positioning himself between her legs was his first deviation from sound tactics. He was underestimating her. Not enough to create the opportunity she needed. But it was encouraging. She reminded herself to project fear. Helplessness.

He reached around and felt her breasts. “Oooh, these are nice. Grew a little since the last time we saw each other, didn’t they? And oh, what do we have here?”

He’d touched the Boker, as she’d known he would. She felt the muzzle of the gun press hard into her kidney. Again, a deviation from sound tactics-the closer he was, the better her chances at a disarm-but not quite the opportunity she needed. Still, if he kept this up, an opening would present itself. She just had to be patient.

He reached under her blouse and pulled free the Boker. “Jesus, Livia, you’re a regular fucking Rambo, you know that? So, what was the plan, tie the senator up, get him to talk, something like that, hmmm?” She heard the Boker hit the carpet with a quiet thud somewhere behind them. Then he reached around again and squeezed her breasts. “Was that it? Was that the plan? Come on, you can tell me. Come on.”

His voice had gone husky and he was getting hard where he was pressed against her. She felt rage begin to smolder inside her. The dragon, stirring awake.

No. Not now. Not now.

“You like that, Livia? My cock against you like that? You like it?”

“Where’s my sister?” she said, and was pleased that her tone was fearful, almost childlike.

“Oh, your sister again. All right, we really should get you to the senator. Damn, and here we were just starting to have fun, right?”

He felt her belly, then ran his hand up and down her legs, finishing by rubbing her ass, and then her crotch. Then he yanked off the wig and tossed it aside.

“That’s good,” he said. “I think the senator will like you better like this. And let’s lose those glasses, too.” He pulled them off and dropped them.

He stepped back. “Okay, Livia, why don’t you open that door for me. Just unbolt it and pull it open. Give it a good tug, it’s heavy and fits pretty snugly in the frame.”

She did as he said. He was right, the door was heavy-at least two inches of what looked like solid mahogany. There was another like it on the other side, presumably bolted from inside the suite. She’d been wrong about kicking this in. It would have taken a battering ram.

She heard that plaintive sound again. Still faint, but through the single door it was unmistakable. A child’s wail. What was happening in there? She felt the rage rising again and fought to push it back.

“Yeah, I was afraid of this, we’re interrupting the great man at play. Well, that’s another reason he pays me the big bucks-command decisions. I’m pretty sure he’ll be happy to switch up once he sees it’s you. So just go ahead and knock on the door. Hard, with your knuckles, so they’ll hear you.”

They’ll. Lone, and who else? The child she thought she heard screaming?

She knocked. A moment later, she heard a muffled voice on the other side. “What is it?”

The voice sounded weirdly familiar. And was that a Thai accent?

“It’s me. Open up, Chanchai, the senator will want to see this.”

“Can it wait?”

“Trust me. He won’t want to wait.”

Livia heard the bolt draw back. The door opened.

It was Skull Face.