Five minutes later, Solez and Max got back in the van.
“When we walked past the laundry truck,” Solez reported, “Max got real antsy. It was all I could do to hold him.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like the smell of dirty laundry,” Delchamps said.
“And maybe he smelled guns. He doesn’t like that smell. When the Bimmer gets here, I’ll give Davidson a heads-up.”
“Why don’t you do that now, Ace?” Delchamps said.
“Because Jack Davidson is a devout believer in the preemptive strike.”
“Well, tell him to behave. You’re a colonel. You can do that.”
Castillo pushed an autodial button on his cellular.
“We’re about two minutes out, Colonel,” Davidson answered. “Lester missed the turn.”
“There’s an ECO laundry truck down here. It may be picking up laundry, but Max smelled something he didn’t like. Just be aware it’s there. No, repeat, no preemptive strike, Jack. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Two minutes later, the big dark blue BMW rolled off the down ramp.
Delchamps and Castillo readied their weapons. There had not been another Uzi available, so Darby had provided a Car-4.
Two of them, Castillo thought, as Solez picked one from the floor of the van and worked the action.
The BMW circled the parking garage and backed into a space across from them.
Nothing happened.
Castillo called Bradley on his cellular and hit the SPEAKERPHONE button.
“Lester,” he said, quietly, “go into the hotel, take a look around the corner and see if you see Pevsner or his gorilla or anybody interesting at the bar.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, if I may say so, that will also serve to suggest to the person in the cashier’s office that I am notifying someone their car is available and alleviate any suspicion of my sitting here.”
“Very good, Lester. You’re absolutely right.”
Castillo hit the cellular’s END button, then chuckled and shook his head.
“Don’t be smug, Ace,” Delchamps said. “The kid is right.”
“He usually is,” Castillo said. “I didn’t even think about the cashier.”
Nothing happened in the next four minutes, which seemed like much longer.
“Lester’s back,” Solez said, pointing as Bradley walked back toward the BMW.
“And there’s Pevsner and János the Gorilla,” Delchamps said, nodding toward the Mercedes-Benz on the down ramp. “So he did show.”
“Give them a chance to park the car and get out of it and then we’ll join them,” Castillo said. “‘Hey there, Alek! Small world, isn’t it?’”
The big black Mercedes circled the garage. The heavily darkened windows of the BMW would permit him to see only Lester, which he would expect to do. But the same was true of the Mercedes. When it rolled past the Traffik, Castillo could see only János, not into the rear seat. János showed no interest in the Traffik.
Well, what does that mean? Maybe János is the stalking horse and Pevsner’s not in the backseat?
János backed the Mercedes into a spot close to the parking garage cashier’s office and the tunnel to the hotel. He got out, walked around to the right side of the car, and opened the rear door. Aleksandr Pevsner got out and started walking toward the tunnel, with János three steps behind.