Page 105 of Locked and Loaded

She'd destroy him too.

CHAPTER FORTY

The woman didn't so much as glance at the invitation Valardi held out. She stood her ground in front of the velvet rope, her expression polite but unmoving.

“You are not on the list. I cannot help you.” She shook her head as if with real regret, her neat bun close to her head.

Valardi rewarded her with the kind of easy smile that had probably talked its way through more locked doors than Dragan cared to imagine.

“I believe you'll find Mr. Russo has attended several of these events in the past.”

“Be that as it may,” the woman replied, her tone never wavering, “he is not on the list for this event.”

Valardi regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Perhaps you should ask your boss before turning away such a valued client.”

Anthony Russo, for his part, remained silent.

Dragan had no idea what arrangement Valardi had made to convince the Sicilian crime boss to attend tonight, but Russo looked like a man who'd rather be anywhere else. He stood with the patient stillness of someone used to people getting out of his way without being asked. Even Valardi, who seemed capable of charming almost anyone, was careful not to push him too far.

Valardi glanced at Russo.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Russo said quietly. “You don't want to annoy me. Your boss won't appreciate it.”

He wasn't a particularly tall man, but height had never been a measure of danger. Violence hung around him like an expensive coat, worn so often it had become part of who he was. The receptionist instinctively leaned back a fraction, and Dragan couldn't blame her. She'd recognized exactly what Russo was.

A predator.

The woman's eyes flicked between Russo and Valardi before she finally pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped out a message.

A few seconds later, the door cracked open.

“What?” a man demanded irritably.

The receptionist leaned close and whispered into his ear.

“Mick,” Dragan said quietly, “run interference on the hallway cameras.”

“I can,” Mick answered, “but it'll make all of us blind. Once I do, then we won’t be able to see either.”

“Do it.”

“That’s Eli Fisher,” Archer said immediately. “No chance he's running this operation. He's middle management at best. If they haven't changed the layout,” Archer continued, “there's a small foyer just inside the door. Heavy velvet curtains separate it from the main room so light doesn't spill into the theatre.”

“Understood,” Dragan responded.

Ryker came over the comms next.

“If Fisher's here, that's all the confirmation I need. Davis's old network and this one are connected.”

“Agreed,” Archer replied, his voice hard as granite.

“The hallway feed is down,” Mick announced.

“I don't think...” Fisher began.

Dragan moved.

One step.