In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“Okay, good,” Brig agreed.

“We suspect he’ll be ready for that contingency and will ransom her back to you in exchange for a long-term commitment to moving his drugs.”

“But why would I agree to long-term anything once I have my sister back?”

“Because to get her, you’ll have to agree to terms, and Suárez will be sure to let you know that if you go back on the deal, he can get to you, or her, or someone else you love,” he said pointedly, “at any time.”

I looked at them over my shoulder as Brig stood and started to pace, the nervous energy, I was sure, like a live wire under his skin.

“This is a nightmare,” he told Dallas, shaking his head. “I could lay hands on my father, right now, and not regret the damage I’d do.”

“I understand,” Dallas replied, the slight softness in his voice letting me know that he wasn’t so jaded that he didn’t feel bad for Brig. “You’re embroiled in a mess not of your own making, a not uncomplicated one, and frankly, a dangerous one. You got good and fucked.”

I turned so I could see all three men.

“The good news is that, hopefully, you won’t be placed in any further danger.”

“I’m sorry?” Brig asked sharply.

“Well, unlike your friends, you’ll be guarded by the FBI.”

“Please explain yourself, Agent Bauer.”

“Your friends were all sent home this morning.”

“They…what?”

“They’re all gone,” Dallas continued, perfunctory, his by-the-book voice coming out loud and clear. “You, unfortunately, cannot go home and will remain here, in Vegas, in this suite, along with Mr. Foster, for the duration of the op. They have to know that you’re here, see that you’re here, partying, enjoying the nightlife as though nothing is happening while this drama unfolds. It’s necessary for you to be here. If something comes up where we need you on-site, that has to be accomplished quickly. But as of now, there will be three teams of six men with you twenty-four seven.”

“I’ll be expected to go out? Eric and I?”

“Yes,” Dallas told him. “You need to look like you’re here with Mr. Foster, vacationing in Vegas, as though nothing is amiss. The men with you are simply bodyguards, and as you’re the son of one of the richest men in the US, it’s not much of a stretch.”

“Everyone knows I don’t have bodyguards,” he told Dallas.

“I doubt anyone in Vegas knows, and it will make sense to Suárez’s people that you’ve beefed up your security in response to the news about Lane.”

“Won’t I be the one negotiating for Lane?”

“No,” Dallas replied sharply. “You’re going to be the man with plausible deniability. You, of course, would never sit down with drug dealers. You have Croy for that.”

“So I won’t be in danger, I’ll have federal agents taking care of me, but, Croy, you have no issue putting yourself in the crosshairs?” he said, his voice breaking as he looked at me.

“We cannot put you at risk, Mr. Stanton,” Dallas apprised him coolly, his tone scornful, not liking what he was saying. “But as Croy pointed out last night, Torus had a contract with you and your father, and by him stepping into this op, that contract is fulfilled. As of now, he’s no longer your bodyguard. He’s no longer responsible for your safety, the Bureau is.”

“And he’ll be the one talking to the drug dealer on my behalf.”

“Yes.”

Exhaling a deep breath of my own, realizing that my part in the drama had just been upgraded from understudy to star, I turned back to the view of the storm-washed gray skyline.

“Wait,” Brig rasped, overwrought now, and I didn’t have to turn and look at him to know he was at the end of his rope. “So I won’t have anything to do with the negotiations.”

“That’s right. Your part is to look rich and powerful and unaffected, the same way Suárez does back in Mexico.”

“Then why am I even staying in Vegas?”

“As I said before,” Dallas reiterated, sounding annoyed, moving up beside me, turning to lean his back against the glass. “If something goes sideways, you’ll need to be here to smooth things over.”

“What are the chances of something bad happening?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“I––”

“There’s no way to give you odds on a contingency. We’re hoping that this will run like a textbook op.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that whoever Suárez sends will have Lane with them. They’ll trade her for whatever deal they’re looking to make, they’ll make that agreement with Croy, and as soon as we have her in custody, we’ll pick up everyone Suárez sent, including the mouthpiece, and get them all to roll on their boss.”

“And this usually works?”

“Nine times out of ten,” Dallas assured him.

“But really, shouldn’t I be the one to––”

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you think you have a choice in the matter, Mr. Stanton. The FBI is in charge of your life at this juncture, as well as Mr. Foster’s.”