Rhapsody (The Teplo Trilogy #2) (17 page)

He capped the marker, his expression darkening. "If they put a hand on her, we’re going in after her. I don't give a fuck who we have to take out to get her out safely. She comes out unharmed or they come out in a body bag."

Tori's eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. The harshness in Tristan's tone left no doubts that he was deadly serious. If anyone inside touched her, he had every intention of tearing them apart. If anyone had a problem with his words, no one said anything, though Lillian felt the weight of Rico and Liam's gazes on her. When she peeked at them, both were watching her with something akin to understanding on their faces, like they'd feel the exact same way if they were in his position.

Jason stepped away from his desk and cleared his throat. "She’ll be armed with a panic button while she's inside. If anything happens, we're going in. We will not risk her safety unnecessarily." He met her gaze briefly, that no bullshit look on his face, before he addressed the room. "If you see something suspicious, you let me know immediately. If anything even feels off when we get there tonight, she’s not going in. You are not to approach anyone from the club. Keep out of sight, keep your eyes open, and your radios on. Tristan knows more about the club and this case than anyone. You follow his orders like you would mine. We clear?"

One by one, every agent in the room nodded.

Sincerity rang out clearly in the chorus of "Yes sir," that sounded throughout the room.

An hour later, Tristan, Jason, and the team had worked out all of the details while Lillian listened attentively. She knew who would be where and what to do in case anything went wrong. The plan for approaching the blond had been drilled into her head until she could recite it back without hesitation.

She would enter the club, order a drink, and wander around for a few minutes. From there, she'd make her way to the bathroom, where she'd spray the cup with a special compound that would help preserve any fingerprints, but would be undetectable without the proper equipment. Upon exiting the bathroom, she’d make another circuit around the room, picking out all the guards. Once she was comfortable she knew where they were, she’d arrange to "accidentally" bump into the blond, spilling some of her drink on herself. Somehow, she’d get the cup into his hands while she cleaned herself off, and then she’d reclaim the cup, wander around for a little longer, and then return home.

Should the blond or anyone else question her, she’d tell them the story she, Tristan, and Jason had come up with: Marc Rivera had hired Tristan to help prove that she was abusing heroin and Ecstasy as part of a lawsuit he planned to file against her. Once Tristan had located her drug stash, he turned her in to Seattle, who'd arrested her. She now hated him with a passion and never wanted to see the bastard ever again. If they questioned her about him roaming around the club, sneaking into private spaces, she would claim she knew nothing about it. As far as she was concerned, he was an asshole and deserved anything he got.

She'd repeated the story back to them several times, but saying the words still made her voice shake. Jason figured that would work in her favor, make her seem passionate about her hatred for Tristan. She wasn't so sure, but she didn't argue.

They had planned for every eventuality, and it all sounded so simple. If she played her part right, she'd get in, get the guy's fingerprints, and get out without a problem. But she wasn’t stupid. Nothing about going into
Teplo
alone would be easy. A thousand different things could go wrong once she walked through the doors. She was terrified, but she couldn’t back out now. She wouldn’t. In all her years as a ballerina, she had never once let fear stop her from performing, and she wouldn’t this time, either.

"Hey." Tristan drew her toward him with a hand on his wrist as the rest of the team broke up and made their way out of Jason’s office. All except Michael, who would help sneak her into the jail and then keep an eye on her as she hopped a taxi back to her house, where Tristan would be waiting for her. Everyone else would meet up half a mile from
Teplo
around nine for one more quick briefing before making their way to their positions.

Michael and Jason conversed quietly as Tristan pulled her into his chest, cuddling her close. She went willingly, sighing when his strong arms closed around her, quieting the nervous roar of her thoughts.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yeah. Ready to get it over with."

He stepped closer, tilting her face up to his. His eyes were so gentle and so fierce, full of love and concern and a hundred other things that made her heart race. "I'll be right across the street the entire time. If anything goes wrong, you push the panic button, and I’m there."

"I know," she said, not doubting for a minute that he'd be there in a matter of seconds if she pushed that button. But that didn't really help calm her any. He still wouldn't be inside the club with her. From the time she walked out of her front door until the time she walked back in, she would be on her own, performing for an audience that would kill her if they didn't believe every little move she made.

He stared at her for a long, silent moment before turning to Jason. "Is Simon downstairs?"

"Yeah, he was down in IT the last I heard."

Tristan turned back to her. "You have your cell with you?"

"Yes," she said, delving into the pocket of her shirt to retrieve it.

He tucked her phone into the pocket of his jeans before taking her hand. "We’ll be back in a few," he said to Jason and Michael. "I’m going to have Simon set her up before she leaves."

Jason nodded. "Have him arrange to send the signal to mine and Kincaid's phones as well. I'll meet you at the house as soon as everyone is in position tonight." He glanced at Lillian and smiled in assurance. "If anyone can pull this off, you can."

"Thank you," she said, allowing Tristan to lead her out of the office.

Jason's secretary, Janet, waved as they passed her and then stood side by side, waiting for the elevator. Once they were inside, Lillian couldn't contain her curiosity any longer.

"Who is Simon?"

"You’ll see." Tugging her closer, he delved his hand under her hair and began to massage the back of her neck.

She moaned in appreciation, burying her face in his chest.

They stayed wrapped up like that until the elevator shuddered to a stop, and then Tristan placed a gentle kiss on her crown and took her hand in his. He strolled with purpose through the maze of cubicles and offices before pulling her inside a little area tucked off in the far corner.

Three men and a woman poked their heads up from a mass of computer equipment strewn around the room in what could only be described as organized chaos. Just looking at all the monitors and flashing lights made Lillian feel like she'd stepped into foreign territory. She knew enough about computers to get by, and she had a feeling none of her knowledge would be particularly impressive to any of the four now watching her and Tristan.

"Simon?" he asked by way of greeting, and waited until one of the guys pointed toward a door at the back of the room before nodding in thanks and leading her that way. Without stopping to knock, he pushed his way into the small room.

A kid sat at a round table with his feet propped up, a laptop balanced on his legs. He had massive headphones over his ears.

"Yo, Simon," Tristan hollered, tapping the kid on the shoulder.

He turned in their direction. Seeing who had interrupted him, he slipped the headphones off and grinned. Dressed in jeans and a white polo with an afro and hipster glasses, he barely looked old enough to be in high school, let alone employed by the federal government.

"Are you over your aversion to the office or what? I heard you were here a few days ago." He sat his laptop on the table and stood to shake Tristan's hand.

"Only by necessity," Tristan said, grimacing. He tugged Lillian a little further into the room. "This is Lillian. Lillian, meet Simon. If it's electronic, he can hack it."

"Um, nice to meet you," she said, holding out a hand to him.

Simon eyed her, sizing her up. "You're the ballerina," he said then, taking her hand in his. "I've heard a lot about you recently. All good, of course."

She wasn't sure what to say to that so she offered a vague smile.

It seemed to be enough for Simon. He released her hand and turned back to Tristan. "What do you have for me?"

"Her phone," he said, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it over. "I have to be able to track every move she makes." He reached into his other pocket and pulled out his phone. "And I want the location to transmit to this phone, to Jason's, and to Kincaid's."

"Do you want the ping in real-time or do you want it to text you locations if the program is turned on?" Simon turned Lillian's phone over in his hand. "I can install an app to do either, just depends on what best suits your needs."

"Real-time," Tristan said. "I need to be able to see where she's at instantaneously so we can follow her if necessary."

"Cool," Simon mumbled, playing with her phone.

"Do you want the passcode?" she asked him.

He didn't answer, instead staring intently at her phone with the tip of his tongue between his lips for several seconds. And then he grinned. "Nah," he said, holding it up to show her the home screen. "Your passcode is way too easy." He had his head hunched over the phone again before she could respond.

She looked at Tristan who shrugged as if to say
told you so
.

Twenty minutes later, Simon had the app installed and had showed her how to use the tracking program. So long as the GPS function was turned on, the program would track her and send live updates to Tristan, Jason, and Michael. She didn't feel one hundred percent better about going to
Teplo
alone, but it helped to know that she had another safety net if she required it.

"Here ya go." Simon handed the phone back to her once he was sure she knew how to use the application. "It's really straightforward. Oh! I forgot to tell you about the panic button," he said, pointing over her shoulder to a red button in the bottom right corner of the phone. "If you hit that button, the phone will immediately send an alert to the guys, letting them know you're in trouble. It'll also hide the icon so no one can tell the tracking program is on if they take your phone away."

"We can turn the program on ourselves if we need to, right?" Tristan asked.

"Yep." Simon grabbed his laptop and tapped out a string of gibberish on the keyboard. A program with a little red dot beeping in a maze of map lines popped up on the screen. "All you have to do is log in to the website or pull up the program on your phone and click on her name. If her phone is on, you're good to go. I tweaked the settings so the app doesn't require her permission for you to track her. It's a feature for parents, but it suits our purposes as well. See?"

"Nice," Tristan said, leaning over the table to take a closer look. "Can you can link mine to hers?"

"What do you mean?" Simon peered up at him.

"I want her to be able to track me whenever she wants," he said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. It was a big deal to
her
though. Now she wouldn't have to sit around and wait like she had the other night, terrified something had happened to him. Even if he couldn't or wouldn't answer his phone, all she had to do was open the program, and she could see for herself where he was.

"Oh." Simon tapped out another string of commands on the laptop, shuffling through settings. Lillian had never seen anyone type so fast, or seen anyone quiver in their chair over the prospect of mobile phone tracking. After a few moments, he pointed to the screen. "All you have to do is check the box to share your location data with her account, and you're all set."

Tristan held out his phone. "Can you set it up for us?"

"No problem." Simon plucked the phone out of his hand and hunched over it.

Tristan stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders as Simon focused on the phone, mumbling to himself as he changed the settings. His fingers flew over the phone keys as quickly as they had the laptop keyboard.

"That feels good," she sighed, leaning into Tristan. She was so tense and seemed to get more so the closer they crept to the hour of reckoning. She wanted to ask how he did this every day—how he entered a situation that could be potentially life-threatening—but knowing what she now knew, she didn't really need to hear his answer. He'd admitted to being reckless and not caring if he lived or died. Listening to him say those words again would only stress her out more.