Undercover Nightingale. Wendy RosnauЧитать онлайн книгу.
encrypted. I’m not sure if you’ll be looking for another disk, or if it will be a hard copy.”
“Is there a chance the acid wiped out the disk before the data was stripped?”
“I don’t think that happened.”
“Why?”
“Because Filip is on his way to Salavich, who is a master decoder. Filip wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t carrying the information on him. He has it, some form of it, and within days it’s about to be decoded.”
“What’s on it?”
“The SDECE’s security codes. All of them. Your job is to recover it before it’s decoded.”
“From Casso Salavich.”
Stillman smiled. “Normally that would be difficult, getting close to a man who never leaves his house without an army of bodyguards, but the good news is, he’s being challenged by a number of his enemies who would like to take control of his drug trafficking operation. As you well know, the demand to stay on top in the drug business is a heavy burden. At present he is looking for more power, and a way to prove himself kingpin.”
Ash listened, knowing where this was headed.
“You’re going to be his salvation and lift his burden by going into business with him. At least it will appear that way, a viable cover for you to infiltrate his operation and recover the stolen data when it arrives.”
“That’s it? Recover the data?”
“Not quite. There’s still the matter of who stole the disk.”
“Do you know?”
“Oui. At the time I wasn’t aware of it, but there was a traitor among us at the SDECE.” Stillman released a heavy sigh. “I have reason to believe it was Jazmin Grant.”
“Then your problem is solved. Grant died at Nescosto.”
“There’s no proof of that. Just because you blew Nescosto sky high doesn’t mean everyone died. Filip Petrov managed to survive.”
“And Chanler?”
“Chanler is dead. But Grant… She’s the best agent I’ve ever worked with. That’s why she was able to fool me.”
“I’m an explosives expert, not an assassin.”
“I don’t want her dead. I want her brought back to me alive. I want to know why she betrayed me. She’s the only one who can answer that.”
“Why the game? Why didn’t you just come clean with Merrick? We could have worked together on this.”
“And have it on record that the SDECE has been negligent, and that one of their own is a traitor?”
“Were you negligent?”
“My only fault was trusting Grant’s reputation, her years of loyalty, and giving her a second chance when I should have buried her.”
“A second chance?”
“The past doesn’t affect your mission. Recover the data and then find Grant.”
“And where will I find her?”
“If I knew that, I would already have her in chains.” Stillman handed Ash a sophisticated cell phone. “I’m sure you’re familiar with one of these. Everything you need to know about Salavich and Grant can be accessed in the database. You can also find my private number in there under my code name, Artus. And here’s a watch with a sophisticated explosive device you might need should you find yourself in a tight spot.”
“If I’m back in the drug business I’ll need merchandise.”
“Tell Salavich you have a billion dollars worth of premium ice to sell for starters. Give him some bull about scheduled monthly deliveries. You’re the expert on that, so it’ll be your job to entice him into your deception. I’m confident you’ll save the SDECE before it’s compromised, and before you have to deliver on your promise to Salavich.”
“I’ve been out of the drug business for eight years. Don’t you think Salavich is going to be suspicious?”
“Your job is to convince him otherwise. If Merrick hadn’t come along when he did, you would have finished out your sentence in that Mexican hellhole, then gone back into business. Big business. The Toriagos never did anything small.”
“But he did come along, and I didn’t go back.”
“And now that makes you a man of respectability?” Stillman snorted. “I have a list of your atrocities, so don’t pretend that you’re a changed man. We never shed our old skin completely, Toriago, and your status at Onyxx proves that. You’re a drug-dealing ex-con who traded one prison for another when you agreed to become one of Merrick’s elite marauders. This mission isn’t any different from those you’ve done for Onyxx, except that you have a new jailer. Me.”
“You overestimate my talent, Stillman.”
“Perhaps you underestimate it. You’re Estabon Toriago’s son. The most ruthless drug lord in Mexico, ever. Like father, like son?” Stillman glanced down at Ash’s feet. “I thought I told you to get rid of those old boots. You’re trying to impress a billionaire.”
“My boots stay, Stillman. It’s the one part of Marco Toriago that never died.”
“Let’s hope there is more left of Toriago than a pair of worn-out cowboy boots. You’ve been given a limitless bank account. Dress the part and convince Salavich that money is what drives you. Convince him you’re back in business. Big business.”
“And if Salavich doesn’t bite?”
“He’ll be wary at first, but an alliance with Estabon Toriago’s son…” Stillman’s grin was back. “Even the most cautious criminal wouldn’t be able to resist going into business with the son of a legend.”
“And if Salavich decides to kill me instead?”
“Then I’ll concede I was mistaken about you, and I’ll send my regards to your family.”
The car sped into the parking lot at the Paris airport. Ash got out and Stillman followed. The driver popped the trunk and Ash grabbed his one piece of luggage.
“I’ve seen to everything you’ll need. Passport. Money. Credit cards. You have a suite at the Corinthia Grand Hotel Royal in Budapest. Good luck.” Stillman patted Ash on the back. “You’re once again in the drug business, Mr. Toriago. Let’s hope, for your family’s sake, you still remember how to play the game.”
An hour later Ash found his seat on the plane in first class. Before the flight took off he located the minitransmitter inside the cell phone. He dropped the pill-size electronic bug on the floor and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot, then found the one in the watch.
So much for Stillman keeping track of him. He intended to see the mission through, but without his jailer tracking his ass.
He skimmed the file on Salavich, then moved on to Jazmin Grant’s profile. He studied the photo, read her stats. Stillman’s blond beauty was five-seven, weighed one-twenty-five, had brown eyes, a nice rack and great legs—she could have made a fortune as a stripper.
The striking blonde reminded Ash of the old days. If he’d seen her in a bar in Mexico, Marco Toriago would have definitely singled her out of the crowd and paid any amount of money to get her naked.
But it had been years since he’d played hard and partied even harder. He wasn’t kidding when he had told Stillman that Marco Toriago had died in prison eight years ago. He wasn’t the same man, but somehow he was going to have to resurrect the dead to play this game and win.
On the flight Ash brushed up on his Spanish, and four hours later Marco Toriago exited the plane in Budapest and made two phone calls. The first one went to Casso Salavich to make an appointment