Steal the Lightning: A Field Ops Novel (Field Ops #3)(75)

McAvoy ignored him. “You think you know me, but you don’t.”

“I’ve got a fair idea.”

I heard Shwetz curse into the phone.

“You’re not control.” McAvoy tapped at his chest. “I’ve done things you can’t even dream about. That’s why they’ll take me back. That’s why they need me. I’m important. Whereas you—the hired lackey—”

“What things?” I said.

Then Shwetz gave out a yell. He smashed the phone down. For a moment he just sat there, breathing hard. Then he looked up at the handful of casino staff nearby.

“That’s it,” he said. “Fucker bought the place. Official. Bought it, trashed it. Turns out it’s his place all along.”

“Told you,” Eddie said. “Impatient. That’s Dad-o for you . . .”

To McAvoy, I said again, “What things?”

His chest rose and fell. His grin was close and wide.

“Above. Right now.” He jabbed a thumb towards the ceiling. “Without me there’d be nothing. You sit there, think you’re so important. But I’m the one they want. I’m the one who matters here. Not you . . .”

Shwetz pulled on his coat, made for the door. One of the military types then tried to stop him, but he didn’t pause. He swung around. His fist shot out, caught the man on the side of the head. It looked like no more than a tap, but the guy went flying, crumpled to the floor. Eddie yelled. His people moved in, coming from all sides. Shwetz turned with an unlikely grace, as if it were a dance, smacked one of his assailants on the jaw, shoved a second out the way, pushed past a third— They tased him.

Twice. Three times.

He jerked, his head went back, and somehow, for a few moments, he kept his footing. He even took a step, shuffling forwards, and his arm came up, his mouth gaped— And he dropped, just like a house falling down.





Chapter 59

Your Father’s Crazy




“You’re going to bottle it for me.”

Ballington Senior put his hands upon his hips. He thrust his chest and belly out.

A flunky had retrieved our bag from the hotel. He set it down before us. Here was our gear: the flasks, the cables, the control boxes.

“You’re going to bottle it for transportation. Clear?”

“It’s called retrieval, what you’re asking.”

“I don’t care what it’s called. You’re going to do it.”

Ballington’s cheeks were red with blusher. His lips were pink. His eyebrows had been darkened and his lashes thickened with mascara. Even as he spoke, he beckoned to the makeup woman. “Lips,” he said, impatiently. “Accentuate the curve.” He leaned close, breathed into her ear. “Make me smile,” he said.

Silverman kept filming, all this time.

I said, “It won’t be easy.”

“There’s three of you. What’s the problem?”

“Three . . . ?”

He leaned close, and I could feel the heat from him. “I don’t just count in billions, Mr. Copeland.” He looked to me. To Angel. “One. Two.” To McAvoy. “Three.”

“Come on—”

He jabbed me in the chest with his finger.

“Are you a doer—or a loser?” He drew himself up, put his head back, did his best to look down his nose at me, which was tricky, given he was half a head shorter than I was. “Two choices in my book,” he said. “What’s it to be?”



“You know your father’s crazy, don’t you?”

“He’s just being Dad-o.”

I had cornered Eddie, hoping for an ally.

His smile did not convince.

“Your pet god’s got its hooks in him. I told you that, remember?”

“I guess . . . sure. Sure. He’s been kind of extreme of late. But you don’t know him. This is a guy—he makes the big decisions, takes the big moves. Nothing he does is small. That’s how he works.”

“He buys a property, then fucking invades it? That’s normal? Really?”

“Chris. You just don’t get it. I told you, right? There is no normal with a guy like this! He doesn’t do normal! He’s like nobody you ever met before. He’s bigger than all that, he’s—”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s my Dad-o!”

“Love him?”

“He’s not normal people, Chris! You can’t judge him like—like you do just anyone—”

“I get the idea. But listen: I gave you that number for the Registry, yeah? And you gave it to Ghirelli?”

“Yeah . . . ?”

“Well, this could be the time to use it. Don’t you think?”



Angel said, “We doing this?”

“Is there a choice?”

“But not just, how he wants? We’re not just going to give it to him, are we?”

“Be nice not to,” I said. “Any ideas how?”





Chapter 60

The Most Terrifying Thing




I asked for floor plans. I got them, and a side room, too, to do some planning in.