The Insider Threat (4 page)

U
nder his breath, I heard Knuckles say, “Holy shit.” I turned and saw Jennifer coming out of the bathroom of the cheap hotel room we’d rented to prepare for the mission. She looked stunning. I mean, I might be biased, but she was breathtaking. I wondered if it was just me, but I saw that Brett was slack-jawed. Mesmerized.

She caught the looks and said, “What? Is this not what a high-end escort would wear? Should I look sluttier or something?”

Nobody said anything, and she said, “Hey, what’s the problem?”

Knuckles finally managed to find his mouth. “Man alive, Jennifer, you clean up nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing . . . It’s just that you’re always wearing jeans or something. Hair in a ponytail. No makeup. I’ve never seen . . . I mean, you never . . .”

“So my natural state is ugly?”

He started stumbling over his words, and I saw her smile.

She’s going to have no trouble with Panda.

We’d spent the better part of the day getting ready for our little adventure, going to the Westgate mall in Nairobi, the same one those assholes from al-Shabaab had assaulted in 2013, slaughtering over seventy people. The men had spent all of thirty minutes buying cheap suits. Jennifer, on the other hand, went hog wild. She was allowed to shop on the Taskforce dime, and she’d spared no expense, buying a black cocktail dress with a modest décolletage, jewelry, makeup, a mani-pedi, a high-end wig, and some sort of ridiculously expensive high heels called Jimmy Choos. I had no idea how she knew what to purchase, because she routinely wore nothing but work clothes for the business, but apparently, it was in the female DNA.

Now that she was wearing the outfit, complete with elbow-length black gloves to protect her hands from the ABS, it made our suits look like sweatpants.

She said to me, “You sure Retro’s stopped the real escort? It’s going to be embarrassing if we both show up.”

Knuckles said, “Yeah, he confirmed while you were in the bathroom. He spoofed Panda’s IP and canceled the appointment. Taskforce had to pay the cancellation fee, which I’m sure will cause some issues after we get back when the bean counters see what it’s for. I told him he was the one claiming the receipt on his travel voucher.”

She smiled and said, “Okay, then. Let’s get it done.”

I said, “Final backbrief. We get to the door and do what?”

Brett said, “I knock and talk to the head of security, telling him we have to be in the suite while she’s there.”

“And when he says no?”

“I insist.”

“But not too hard. Act like you’re doing your job, but don’t turn it off. Jennifer?”

“When it gets heated, I say I’m good going in alone.”

“Knuckles?”

“I interject that we’re staying right outside. Then hand her a phone, telling her to call if there’s trouble.”

Before I could ask, Jennifer said, “I go in and place the phone on the nearest available desk or table.”

I wanted the phone in her hand when she entered, so she could set it down with the small clutch she held, without having to pull it out, which would look awkward. The “phone” itself was a digital camera with multiple fish-eye lenses that would give us a view of what was going on inside.

I said, “Then, you do your siren dance and go into the bedroom. Wait until he closes the door, which he will, then wipe him with the ABS. When it takes effect, slave the computer. I promise it’ll be sitting somewhere close to where he sleeps.”

She nodded and said, “If there’s trouble?”

I held up a keycard. “We’re coming in, courtesy of Retro. Keep on comms with your earpiece. You call, and we’re in. Backup, just start shouting. Retro’s got the security laptop slaved, so he’ll hear it even if we don’t.”

She held up the thumb drive with the software Retro had built. “How long will this thing take?”

“Retro says five minutes. It’s got a search algorithm imbedded in it, so it won’t be imaging a bunch of porn, but depending on how much data he has, it might be longer. It’ll flash green when it’s done.”

“What if it takes a lot longer?”

“He’ll be shitting for hours. You’ll be fine.”

She squinted at me and I smiled. “Hey, we don’t pay you just to be eye candy.”

She said nothing, but I was sure I’d hear about that comment later. I went around the team and said, “Any more questions? We good?”

Nobody said anything, and I looked at Jennifer. “On your command.”

A devious little grin slipped out, and she said, “Showtime.”

B
rett pulled the car into the drop-off lane at the InterContinental Hotel, and Jennifer saw the doorman looking quizzically inside the town car, then gawking full-on at her. Brett jumped out from the driver’s seat and engaged him.

She felt Pike nudge her and heard, “You good? Ready?”

She smiled, and it wasn’t false confidence. “You just be ready to get in if this goes sideways.”

He gave her a reassuring grin and said, “I hear
buffalo
, and I’m breaking the door down.”

Buffalo
was the code word Jennifer would use if she needed help, chosen because the likelihood of it being used accidentally was nonexistent, but she could slip it into a conversation without the other party knowing. It would be completely her call, and they would do nothing unless they heard it.

Knuckles said, “Time to act the part.”

They passed through the lobby and reached the elevator, Brett pressing the penthouse level. The car began to move and Jennifer leaned back. Behind her, Knuckles practically knocked her into the wall, exclaiming, “Watch what you’re doing!”

She stutter-stepped in her Jimmy Choos, slapping her hand into the rail, glaring at him. He said, “You’ve got the damn ABS on your zipper. No way do I want that on me again.”

They’d created a layered approach to applying the compound, starting with the zipper on her dress. If he didn’t use that, she had condoms laced with the stuff and a final chance with a lipstick tube holding a piece of red plastic that looked exactly like it should, but was coated with the chemical like poison from a dart frog.

Pike said, “Okay, okay. Knuckles is a little sensitive to the effects. Shitting your pants will do that. Break out the camera for test.”

Brett pulled out what looked like a Samsung Galaxy S5 and turned it on. Pike said, “Retro, you getting feed?”

“Yep. Seeing all like intended. Jennifer, where’d all your hair go?”

She was wearing a black wig with a bob cut that ended just below her ears. Pike said, “Truthfully, I was wondering the same thing.”

Jennifer said, “Female secret.”

The elevator stopped and Pike said, “Game on. No mistakes. We get in and out clean.”

Knuckles said, “All you, babe.”

Pike said, “Six on security. Two outside and four in. We go hot, remember the numbers. Take them all out.”

Jennifer took a breath. He saw it and said, “Hey, it won’t come to that. Just making sure for worst case.”

She said, “You guys had better be there if I call.”

Brett said, “You know it.”

She looked at him, saw the determination on his face, and became calm. They might make fun of her, and even have qualms about a female being on the team, but she knew that all such issues were gone now. On the X, all that mattered
was
the team. And she was one of them.

Worst case, she also had an ace in her back pocket.

Pike.

An inhuman wrecking machine that would break open the earth itself to protect her.

The elevator’s doors opened, and they saw two security goons outside Panda’s suite. They got within five feet of the entrance before both men held up their hands. One was Caucasian, and when he spoke, they heard a strong Eastern European accent.

“Please stop.”

They did.

“I must search her.”

Pike said, “Yes. We understand. We’ve done this before.”

He did so, working professionally, patting the length of her body and massaging her breasts and groin, but taking no pleasure from it. He turned and nodded to his partner, who swiped the door.

As planned, Brett took the lead. The European stopped him and said, “Only her.”

Brett said, “No way. That’s not how it works. We go in with her.”

“Not here. You stay outside.”

“We can’t do that. She’s our commodity. We protect that. It’s why we’re paid.”

The European repeated, “Not here. Your company knows that. No harm will come to her. It’s why I’m here as well.”

Jennifer said, “It’s okay. I’m willing to go in alone. He’s a repeat customer.”

Brett looked disgusted, then Knuckles said, “Take this. If there’s a problem.”

And the phone was passed.

Pike said, “We stay out here. Right here.”

The European said, “If you want to do that, I must search you.”

She entered the suite, hearing Pike say, “Fine. We don’t have any weapons.”

The room was large, even by penthouse standards, with a full-length dining table, a sectional sofa, and a gigantic wide-screen TV tuned to an American sitcom. To the left was a bedroom, and deeper in she could see a small hallway leading to what was presumably the master suite. And her target.

Three men were on the couch, and a fourth met her at the door. She recognized him as the chief of security from the night before, a large Arab with a neatly groomed beard wearing a suit.

He said, “Leave your things out here.”

That was easy
. She put the phone down but kept her small clutch. He said, “Remove your jewelry.”

“What?”

“No jewelry in the room. I’m sorry.”

She nodded and removed her earrings, a bracelet, and her necklace, setting them next to the phone. He said, “Your Bluetooth as well.”

Uh-oh.
“Why? That can’t hurt anyone. I use it to talk to my security.”

“You don’t need security. Please. Remove it.”

She debated, then did as he asked. He said, “Thank you. Your purse as well.”

No way. Deal breaker.

She opened it, saying, “This is for the client.” Inside were a bottle of lubricant, a tube of lipstick, and several condoms. Hidden in the lining was the thumb drive.

He poked his finger around the inside, pressing the lining and causing her to hold her breath. He nodded. “Is okay. Follow me.”

She felt the eyes of the other three men on her as she walked to the main bedroom, the large Arab leading the way. He stopped and knocked on the door, saying something in Arabic. There was a muffled reply, and he opened the door.

She entered, seeing Panda lying on the bed in a bathrobe, the front open, exposing his erection, large folds of flab dripping onto the bedspread. About as disgusting a sight as she could imagine.

He looked her up and down and said, “Beautiful as always.”

She scanned the room and saw a laptop on the desk by the bed.
Bingo
. She heard the door close behind her, then felt movement, startling her. The large Arab had remained in the room.

Panda saw her reaction and said, “Don’t worry. He only watches.”

I
saw Jennifer enter the room, feeling a little like a pimp. Disgusted with myself. As the door closed I almost wished Panda
had
been gay. Then I would have sent in Knuckles without any qualms. Hippie hair and pretty-boy face—he’d be perfect.

As we backed away from the door, Knuckles saw my grin slip out. We moved a respectful distance down the hall away from the two security men and Knuckles asked, “What’s funny?”

I said, “Nothing. Just thinking about the mission.”

Our earpieces came alive. “Pike, this is Retro. Camera’s in place, but they made her remove her earpiece.”

I glanced at Knuckles. “Why?”

“She had to remove all of her jewelry. Probably just a security precaution.”

Retro knew what I was going to ask next. “Don’t worry. I’m getting good audio from the laptop in the den. I can hear well enough.”

“Even when she’s in the bedroom? With a closed door?”

“Well, no. Not if she’s not shouting.”

Knuckles saw my face and said, “Don’t even think it. She made the call to go in. She could have aborted. Let her play it out.”

Retro came back on. “Uhh . . . Pike, the head of security went in with her and he hasn’t come back out.”

I took one step toward the door, and Knuckles grabbed my arm. “Don’t. She can handle herself. Don’t let your emotions get in the way here. She’s just a teammate. Let her solve the problem.”

What he really meant was
I told you this fraternization would become an issue.
Did I want to go in because a teammate was in trouble, or because it was Jennifer? I tried but honestly couldn’t separate the two. I locked eyes with him and he slowly shook his head. I knew if I went in, he would question my judgment forever. Just like I was questioning it right now.

I keyed my Bluetooth and said, “Retro, roger. Keep eyes on.”

*   *   *

Jennifer turned back around to the fat Panda and said, “I’d rather he didn’t stay. This isn’t a show. It’s all about pleasing you and you alone.”

Panda scowled and said, “He stays. I pay you well enough to do anything I want. In fact, when we’re done, you can pleasure him as a reward.”

Great. Well, he’s about to leave, you fat little Jabba the Hutt.

She turned on the megawatt smile and said, “Okay,” then motioned to the security chief. “Can you give me a hand with my dress?”

She kept her eyes on Panda, watching his own widen as the dress slipped over her shoulders. She said, “You must wear protection, you know?”

He said, “No, no. I paid extra. I’m not unclean.”

The dress pooled at her feet and she saw his breathing increase. She twirled around, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, still dressed in her Jimmy Choos, and said, “You want this, you wear protection.”

He said, “I don’t have any.”

She saw his lust and knew she held the cards.

“I have one,” she said.

She pulled out the poison-laced condom packet and tossed it to him on the bed, wondering how long the ABS took to work and beginning to believe the security chief had missed getting it on him.

Panda gave what he thought was a sultry smile and said, “You want me to wear it, you put it on.”

You have got to be kidding.

She winked at him, hiding the desperation building like a freight train picking up speed, and said, “I’m going to freshen up. You be ready when I get back.”

She started to move to the bathroom when the security chief doubled over, holding his stomach. He stood up and looked physically tortured, gritting his teeth so hard she thought she could hear the grind. He shouted something in Arabic and raced out of the room.

Panda said, “Looks like you got your wish. Something he ate.”

She flashed the megawatt and sauntered into the bathroom, feeling his eyes boring into her bottom. She closed the door and sat on the toilet, breathing heavily.

She waited for an eternity, fearing she would hear him call, ordering her to apply the condom.
Just get it over with. How bad can it be? You still have on your gloves. They’re sterile.

She gathered her courage and stood up just as Panda came flying into the bathroom, robe trailing behind and limp penis flopping under his flabby belly, successfully encased in a condom.

He screamed, “Get out, get out!”

And she did, closing the door behind her. She heard an explosion of gas, and what sounded like someone pouring muddy water into the toilet, then a moan.

She grinned, racing to her clutch. She dumped the contents, tore open the lining, and pulled out Retro’s thumb drive. She leapt across the bed, jammed it into the port, and powered up the computer. According to Retro, passwords and other security were irrelevant. If it started blinking red, it was working.

The computer beeped and blinked, a small hourglass turning in circles on the screen forever, and she wondered if it had some protection against their exploit.

Come on, come on.

The thumb drive light blinked red, a rapid strobe. She smiled, and the door behind her burst open.

She whirled around, seeing the three remaining security personnel. One shouted at her in Arabic, another ran to the bathroom. The third charged, a tall African with long, ropy braids.

She screamed, “Buffalo! Buffalo, buffalo, buffalo!”

The African reached her and she raised her fists. She struck him once in the head and he bodily threw her across the room, slamming her into the wall. She fell to her hands and knees next to the contents of her clutch. She snatched up the lipstick tube and stood.

She kicked off her heels, ripped off the lid, and jabbed it forward, waving it back and forth like a knife. The man laughed at her and said something to his partner. The first man returned from the bathroom and rattled off something in Arabic. Their faces grew grim, and they advanced on her.

Keep them off of you. Seconds. Only need seconds.

The African darted forward, and she slashed his face with the lipstick. He batted her hand away, the lipstick tube flying across the room, and he slapped her cheek with a glancing blow. She tucked her head and tried to knee his groin. The second man reached her and both began punching.

She drove through them, holding her hands against her head for protection, trying to reach the door. The African grabbed her around the waist and threw her onto the bed. The other two dove on top of her. She shrieked the code word over and over, and for the first time felt genuine fear.

Two things happened that restored her courage. One, the man on top of her explosively shit his pants. And two, she heard her name shouted.

From her personal wrecking machine.