The Wrong Gentleman(51)
“The first thing we need is a listening device planted on the target.”
“That’s straightforward as long as you give me something small enough.”
“You don’t have to worry about the size, but it would be better if the stewardess did it. Less conspicuous.”
“Bullshit. It’s much less conspicuous if someone who’s trained does it. I know how not to get caught.”
“Landon, you’re going to have to read her in and convince her to help or someone else will. Lives are at stake.”
I stood up. There was no way I was going to involve Skylar in this mess. She was too . . . relentlessly practical? She’d probably be a great asset, but no, there was no way I was going to ask her. She might feel compelled to say yes because it was me who was asking. I couldn’t live with that.
“The client has intelligence that the target will have his next meeting—at the Casino de Monte-Carlo. We also know that he’s going to invite Skylar as his cover as he did for the last meeting.”
“Great, the Casino is open to the public, and this time you have plenty of notice. You or your client can get other people to observe.”
“Except that his meeting will take place during a private poker match.”
“So plant someone as a member of staff, put a listening device in the room.”
“Landon, seriously, you know it’s not as easy as it looks in the movies. But we’re on a deadline here. If we don’t act now then it’s going to be too late. We’re working on various options, but if Skylar is willing to wear a wire—”
“Absolutely not,” I interrupted, shutting off the shower. I wasn’t prepared to discuss this any further. The conversation was over as far as I was concerned. If Skylar got found out, got searched on the way into the poker match, she wouldn’t get out of that place alive.
“So you’re going to jeopardize the entire operation, let weapons fall into the hands of terrorists, put thousands of lives at risk because you want to ensure the safety of one individual? What has happened to you?”
As soldiers, we knew that we put our lives on the line for the sake of the greater good. We even knew that when assessing situations, the threat to civilian life was considered in the long run, not on an individual basis. We didn’t consider one life more or less expendable than another. We dealt in numbers. Reynolds was right; sacrificing Skylar would probably save hundreds of lives if she successfully delivered the intelligence they needed from her.
But Skylar wasn’t just any civilian. Not to me. Not anymore.
But like Reynolds said, if I didn’t read her in, she’d get an approach from someone else. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s difficult because I know this crew.” I needed to buy some time to find a different solution.
“I get it,” Reynolds said. “But you need to focus on the end result. On the mission.”
The entire purpose of me being here was to prevent weapons falling into the hands of terrorists. I was here to save lives. My training said that Skylar should be read in. But my heart?
I needed time to think. To decide if I was willing to sacrifice Skylar or the operation.
“Understood. How long do we have until the casino meeting?”
“Two weeks, but she’s going to need a couple of days to adjust, so the sooner we get her up to speed the better.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do.” I was going to have to come up with a plan and fast. Perhaps she’d turn down Walt when he asked her to join him, especially given she and I were . . . whatever she and I were. If not, then I’d need to think of something else.
Yes, it was selfish; yes, it put the mission at risk; yes, it meant dangerous terrorists might get their hands on weapons they wouldn’t otherwise. But despite my training, despite knowing it was wrong, it seemed to be worth all that. To keep Skylar safe.
Twenty-Nine
Skylar
A calm focus descended on the crew as we filed back onto the yacht from the jetty, where we’d lined up to greet Walt. Since the announcement that Walt would be back in a matter of hours, the atmosphere on board had shifted. No doubt people would be disappointed at the loss of their free time and wondering where the boat would sail next.
I just couldn’t help thinking about what was going to happen to Landon and me. Our time in the marina had acted like a pause on real life. It had stopped the music and sent the crew into some kind of holding pattern. Landon and I had spent all our free time together and I’d started wondering if I could have a different life from the one I’d always planned.
Now the music had started playing again, but everything felt a little different than how it had been a few weeks ago.
“I wonder why he’s back alone, yet the other guests arrive tomorrow morning. Why not all come together?” August said as she slid her tray of untouched, filled champagne glasses onto the countertop in the kitchen.
“He probably just got away sooner than his guests,” I said. “Or they’re coming from different places.”
“We don’t even know if it’s going to be the same five as before. I have no idea what menus I’m going to prepare,” Chef Anton said, pulling out a tray of eggs from the refrigerator.
“I’ll take him his tequila and see if I can get any more information,” I said, pulling a lowball glass from the cupboard.