Again, he gawped.
Draped in a knee-length dress, golden and glittering, Alicia’s blonde hair hung free. A wolf in sheep’s clothing if ever I’ve seen one.
Dahl grunted at his shoulder. “This just makes me worry about what they bought for us.”
“Really? That’s your only thought?”
“Well, I’m also wondering how Smyth will react when he sees the girls. He’s not the subtlest of characters.”
Drake shook his head and approached Yorgi. “So what they got you wearing? Burberry? I hope it’s off the bloody shelf.”
“It is and so is yours, my friend. Over there.”
At that moment, Alicia came up and linked his arm, gliding him across the dusty floor toward a pile of bags. The touch of her skin sent a spark through his body. Life was becoming more confusing by the minute.
“Yours was the most obvious choice of all,” she said and held up the plain two-button, double-vented, black jacket. “The two-button styling ensures that whilst the suit remains sharp enough to charm the knickers of an unsuspecting air stewardess, it still offers enough movement to scale the walls of a military compound. Can you say: ‘Drake. Matt Drake’?”
He started to laugh, unable to help himself. Alicia was like a breath of air on a sunny day. “I can,” he said. “But I like the way you say it better.”
By the time Hayden arrived, the team had rested and were counting down the last ten hours. Sans reunion they briefed each other on the latest developments and then the newcomers were dispatched to the Pacific Place Mall. As the hour neared the full SPEAR team took a moment to stand back and look at themselves, all expensively attired for the first time together, looking sharp and feeling awkward.
“If the purpose of this is to make me unnerved,” Kinimaka said, tugging at the point where the knot of his tie met the top button of his shirt. “It’s working. If it was to render us weaponless. That’s working too. Can’t we get anything past security?”
“Not this fast,” Hayden said. “And we can’t risk revealing ourselves to the authorities, otherwise we won’t come away with the box. Look at it this way, Mano — the ‘no weapons’ directive goes for everyone.” The American smoothed out the front of her pure white dress, making it hug her curves even tighter and turned to Kinimaka. “How do I look?”
“Amazing.”
“Hmm, good choice of words, I guess. I’d have enjoyed a few more though.”
Kinimaka wiggled his tie. “At the first sign of trouble this tie’s taking flight. And so is the jacket. One thing’s for certain, my arms are splitting this crappy stitching tonight.”
“What are you — the Hulk?” Alicia asked.
“No. Just a little ham-fisted.”
“Coming from Hawaii, shouldn’t that be spam-fisted?”
Kinimaka groaned, as did the entire team. Drake took a look at his crew, his extended family, and offered up a silent prayer for their safety. Couldn’t hurt. Smyth appeared as awkward as Kinimaka in his black suit. Komodo wore his with surprising sharpness, citing a boyhood of attending his father’s military lectures as the reason. Only Karin remained in civvies, ready to work now as ever on comms and op logistics, cuddling into Komodo’s strong right arm as if it was for the last time.
Drake touched the bud buried deep in his ear. “They won’t detect these?”
“Military grade. Should be completely invisible. I’ll be with you the whole way, with eyes on blueprints of the hotel and all surrounding areas. Real-time. And by the way, Hayden, I’ve been thinking. If Tyler Webb is indeed stalking our homes, wouldn’t it be a good idea to task a satellite over them, let him do his thing, and then follow him home?”
Hayden stared as Drake, Dahl and Alicia questioned, this being the first they had heard. Ignoring the others she said, “We’ll see. It all comes down to money and operational priorities. Personally, we don’t really have either.”
“He is king of the Pythians.”
“Sure. I’ll check with Price when we get back. He’s a little busy trying to stop a war right now.”
Drake read Hayden’s reactions, seeing that she really didn’t want to talk about her stalking problems. Were they really that bad? Poor old Mai and Chika were dealing with much worse from the Yakuza. And then there’s this bloody Ramses bloke. He shrugged it all off and checked his watch. “Time to go.”
The team took stock for one more moment, content among friends; no terrible adversaries in this relaxed room. The camaraderie strengthened their unit, made them more than a whole. And it helped remind them of exactly what they were fighting for.
Alicia typically moved first. The rest followed.
CHAPTER FORTY
Drake paced across the hotel lobby, submitting to a pat down and showing his invite, happy to have Mai on his arm but feeling strange and detached from the whole thing. Surreal didn’t do it justice. This wasn’t his world, this high-society, posh-knob kind of stuff, and he wasn’t the least bit unhappy about that. The elevator arrived, its polished gold, gleaming surface sliding open. He urged Mai inside, followed by most of the others. A tall, dark-skinned man dressed in hotel livery punched a button.
Alicia stage-whispered, “D’you think we should tip him? I never can remember the etiquette at a time like this.”
Drake gave her a glare. “Google it.”
“Oh, I seem to have left my Android in my other knickers.”
Drake stared at her gilded purse. “So what do you have in there?”
“Are you kidding? Three hundred dollars and it’ll barely fit a lipstick inside.”
“I don’t think it matters now,” Hayden pointed out as the elevator arrived. The operator kept a straight face as they all filed out.
Drake stopped immediately, trying to collect his senses and focus. The room was large, circular and resplendent. First, he looked up because most people never did. A spherical light gantry hung over the room, spotlights rolling and flashing. A three-tier chandelier was suspended through its center and twinkled like fire and gold. At the center of the room stood a raised stage, also circular, a lighted palisade running around its circumference, interrupted in four places to allow entry. Tables stood everywhere, full of fresh flowers and plates of food whilst waiters were arranged around the outside of the room, serving champagne and canapés on silver trays. Drake turned to his group.
“Anyone spot our mark?”
Hibiki shook his head. “We’re a little early. Shall we mingle?”
Drake grunted in protestation, but allowed himself to be dragged further into the room. Mai sashayed alongside, appearing to be enjoying this distraction and perfectly at home. Conversely, behind Drake came several uncomfortable-looking male individuals, all tugging at their collars. Only Dahl looked relaxed, commenting softly on the layout, entry and exit points and offering other salient observations. Drake turned his attention to the guests. Women were painstakingly coiffured, impeccably dressed and all able to offer that haughty yet appealing guise that defined their status in life. Men were more daring, some bearing stubble and pink, open shirts beneath dinner jackets and others so bronzed they might be mistaken for valuable statues. Most walked at a steady gait across the highly polished floor or stood around in groups, smiling carefully and remaining observant. Drake noticed a large easel set at the center of the stage and guessed it held details about the charity that was the purpose of tonight’s event.
A waiter appeared to his left, offering Mai a glass of champagne and then him. He waved it away. Behind, he heard Smyth choke at the very thought of bubbly.