The Grand Harbor Hotel was located at the heart of the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. It was a Four Diamond hotel with 450 spacious rooms, most of them boasting a harbor or city view, and it was located near the Bradley Convention Center that hosted the International Medical Conference.
Maia Pierce walked into the beautifully appointed lobby rolling her signature LV luggage behind her. She looked every inch the high-powered business executive dressed in her light wool Chanel suit and killer black Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Almost every pair of male eyes followed her with admiration, while almost every woman observed her furtively with envy.
Maia fell in line at the front desk. Conference attendees were arriving in droves and she had already recognized two Guardians. They did not acknowledge each other, merely exchanged meaningful eye contact. Maia was checking her messages on her phone when she was jostled from behind. She looked back in annoyance and noticed a pleasant-looking, bespectacled dark-haired man smiling sheepishly after muttering an apology. She gave him a vague smile and turned her attention back to her smartphone. After a minute, she looked back and realized that the guy was gone. Suddenly suspicious, she wondered if she had been made.
“It’s her,” Peter Coltrane told Sergei Reznikov. The Russian’s car was parked behind the Grand Harbor Hotel. Maia Pierce’s name showed up as a late registrant on their list of conference attendees. It wasn’t too hard to track down the hotel she had checked into.
“They’re trying to draw us out,” Reznikov sneered. “They’re luring us into a trap.”
“You don’t want me to send someone after her?”
“That’s exactly what they’re expecting us to do, but we won’t move against her just yet. I wanna see what their game is. Keep alternate watchers on her, but I don’t want to deviate from our original plan of moving the Rave-IX. I want you to concentrate on your meeting with our buyers.”
“Agreed,” Peter replied. “I’ve booked a private room at the convention center where I’ll be meeting our clients to check out their credentials and to accept the initial deposit. They’ll receive further instructions on how to pick-up the product at our depot.”
“Good. And our contact at Addison?”
“Distribution has been arranged. We’ve had great feedback from our test group. It’s going to be an elitist drug of choice.”
An evil smile took over Sergei Reznikov’s face. “Excellent.”
Maia wandered through the aisles of exhibitor’s booths located on the ground level of the Bradley Convention Center. Most exhibitors were pharmaceutical companies giving free samples and makers of medical equipment. She was interested in both. The latest from Rick Grayson was that Reznikov was looking for a producer. How the DEA had come about this information was not clear because AGS could not confirm this independently. She had refused to meet with Grayson personally after the incident in the lobby. The surveillance team concurred with her suspicions.
“We can’t run facial recognition,” Scott Wilson said in frustration. “It’s as if he knew where the cameras are. We couldn’t even grab a partial. He definitely bumped into you on purpose and got the hell out of there afterwards. No doubt he’s made you.”
Damn.
“I don’t like this,” Jack muttered.
“Look, we kinda expected this since Viktor had not changed my name on the registration form. Now whether they take the bait or not is the question.”
“So you’re just going to walk around with a big fucking X on your back?” Jack said tersely over the phone. He had been very belligerent since the beginning of the conference call—Maia was tempted to tell Derek to sedate him.
“Look, I doubt they’ll have a sniper trailing me. Too many people.”
Jack grunted his displeasure.
“Um, Maia, you’re not helping,” Derek drawled. “Our man here is prowling up and down our cramped little van ready to jump out and spirit you away.”
“Fuck you, Derek,” Jack growled.
“Okay, Okay. Let’s stop overreacting,” Maia said placatingly. “I’m heading out to the convention to put down some feelers. Text me if you all find out anything.”
So far, Maia had not seen anything out of the ordinary with the participating exhibitors. All that she had encountered so far were legitimate businesses with impeccable reputations. She was standing at the back of a presentation for a medical wedge conveyor system when a woman in a taupe trench coat squeezed in beside her.
“Do not say anything, Agent Pierce. You’re being watched,” the woman whispered not looking at her.
Maia froze but did not react.
“Look in your conference bag, Alexsey needs you.”
The woman sidled slowly sideways and disappeared into the crowd. Maia was tempted to follow her but knew better. Alexsey could only mean Alexsey Volynsky who had gone to ground after his release because of a perceived threat from his own cousin Gavlik. Damn Russian mob: not even family was safe from each other. And it looked like the only person he trusted right now was Maia. She was dying of curiosity about what Volynsky had sent her, but she forced herself to finish the presentation. Maia checked her watch; it was almost time for the gala and she had to get back to the hotel to get ready.
Rick Grayson made his way down the wide corridors of the top level of the Bradley Convention Center. He had been able to establish a cover as David Redmond, a medical representative from a Virginia pharmaceutical firm. He was also able to arrange a meeting with a dealer of a new recreational drug. The invitations were selective, but his team had built up an almost foolproof reputation of his accomplishments and connections in the world of illegal narcotics.
He was led into an outer room where he was searched and his laptop was scanned. Rick noted the two men that were guarding the entrance to the inner room. There was nothing intimidating about them but he knew that the ones you most underestimated could be the most dangerous. They were clearly wearing sidearms under their suit jacket.
His contact was known only as Colt. They refused to give him any more information. It was a take it or leave it arrangement. They called all the shots. Hand over the deposit and you were given a number to call to let you know when and where to pick up the goods.
“Mr. Redmond? Colt will see you now.”
He was led to the other room that was sparsely appointed with a round table and two chairs. A stack of computer servers and devices sat on a long rectangular table in the back.
A distinguished dark-haired gentleman dressed in an expensive suit stood up and greeted him.
“Mr. Redmond, good to meet you. Please have a seat. May I offer you anything?”
Rick shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m just eager to get this over with.”
“Of course.”
“What exactly is this new recreational drug?”
Colt sat back in his chair and regarded Rick carefully. “It’s a new drug from Russia. Have you heard of Rave-IX.”
Jackpot, Rick thought but he kept his face blank, bored even. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ve heard about it.”
“You are allocated 100,000 capsules for now. Is that acceptable?”
Rick steepled his fingers and rubbed them lightly across his lips to give Colt the notion that he was contemplating the offer.
“Mr. Redmond?”
“That may not be enough for my distribution channels. How soon can you deliver more?”
Colt’s smile did not reach his eyes—this man in front of him had dead eyes—the eyes of a ruthless person. Rick wondered what his connection to Reznikov was.
“I’m afraid I cannot tell you that. The demand is very high, you are lucky that we are offering it to you at $15.00 a capsule. It is selling at 15 Euros in Germany right now.”
Rick knew he was lying, and that they had no way of producing more.
“Fine. Let’s do the transaction,” Rick said crisply as he fired up his laptop.
“You seem in a rush, Mr. Redmond.”
“Listen. I’m not too fond of meeting in such a public place, but I agree, if there are any medical reps like me here willing to do business with you, it’s the perfect setup. Ballsy, but perfect,” Rick said still in an impatient voice.
Colt nodded in understanding. “I apologize, but I assure you we have reliable security in place. Our transaction will be highly encrypted.”
“It better be,” Rick muttered. “I’m ready for the account number.”
Colt rattled out a series of numbers for the transaction as Rick entered it into his computer to initiate the bank transfer. A deposit of $750,000 was made in less than a minute.
Colt handed him a card. “Call this number tonight after 9:00 p.m. You’ve got two hours to pick up the goods at the address mentioned. If not, you forfeit the deposit.”
“That’s not a very reassuring statement.”
“Mr. Redmond, that is more than enough time if you want the product very bad.”
“It’s a $750 grand deposit. Is there a question how much I want it?”
“One more thing: you will be hooded and searched again when you arrive.”
Shit.
“You will be taken to another location that is five minutes away. My employer will personally meet with you to do the handover.”
Rick decided to push to find out what they knew.
“I must say you’re very thorough. Is there a reason for this? Should I worry about the Feds sniffing this out?”
“I assure you the FBI know nothing. They are too embroiled in whatever is happening in New Park to be a nuisance.”
Ha, not the DEA, buddy.
“Anymore questions, concerns?”
“I’m good,” Rick said as he shut down his computer and got up.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Redmond.”
“When I put your name on the registration form, I didn’t expect everyone to come after you,” Viktor said.
Maia didn’t go back to her hotel room immediately as she decided to make a detour and walk along the Inner Harbor. Whatever this was involved Volynksy, Viktor and herself. No DEA, no AGS and, especially, no Jack.
“It’s a phone number I need to call at midnight. The number is in Germany but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s just a relay. I need a comm van. Though my smartphone is secure, MDI wired my room and I for one do not want Jack nosing around this.”
“That boyfriend of yours is a pain in the ass.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’m glad he’s taking care of you though.”
“Viktor, can we skip the mushy stuff? How about the comm van?”
“Hold on …”
A few minutes passed and then Maia’s call waiting started flashing. It was Jack. Damn, he was probably wondering what route she had taken to the hotel.
Viktor came back on the phone. “Alright: 11:50 p.m, Grand Harbor underground parking.”
“Got it.”
Jack started calling again so Maia picked up.
“Where the fuck are you?”
“Uh, I had to take care of something. I’m on my way back.”
“ETA?”
“Jack, you’re worse than a jail warden.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You’re forgetting that you may have an assassin after you. What did you have to do?”
“Sorry, Jack, it’s classified.”
Jack sighed in irritation. “You had to make a call to Viktor.”
Maia didn’t reply.
“I knew it.”
“I’ll be at the hotel in five,” Maia said and ended the call
Her phone started ringing again. Damn it, Jack.
It was Rick Grayson.
“Rick.”
“We hit the jackpot,” Rick said as he proceeded to fill Maia on what had transpired in his meeting with Colt.
“Do you have back up tonight?” Maia asked.
“I’m letting my direct superior know where I’m going after I acquire the location.”
“I don’t like the sound of the plan—too risky. You’ll be going in blind, no weapons.”
“I’ll be fine. My cover is pretty secure. Any developments on your end?”
Maia thought about Volynsky, but decided it did not concern Rick. “No.”
“Listen, I’m sending down a sketch of Colt and what I remember of his men to AGS. Keep an eye out for them. I think they’ll be changing rooms tomorrow for the next batch of customers.”
“Gotcha. Take care, Rick”
“You too, honey.”
Maia got into her room. Her bed was already turned down for the evening. There were no cameras in her room that she knew of, although she didn’t doubt that Jack had probably installed some—as he said, for his eyes only—but she knew the room was bugged.
Her phone rang. Derek.
“Is His Majesty asking you to check on me?”
Laughter. “Go easy on him. He’s not used to being on the sidelines.”
“Well, he’ll just have to suck it up or go back to New Park.”
“Ouch.”
“What do you want?”
“Any developments?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you guys that?”
“Actually, we have some interesting information for you. One of the Guardians noticed several attendees that gave off the wrong vibes. Like they were not supposed to be there.”
Maia smiled: the spidey-sense Guardians seem to develop under Viktor’s guidance.
“Well, we were able to capture their images and send them back to AGS for facial recognition,” Derek continued.
“You’ve got hits?”
“Yes, they work for a Russian named Mikhail Gavlik. Sounds familiar?”
“Shit.”
“I guess you know him.”
“What does Viktor say?”
“Well, Viktor and the other Guardians didn’t want to tell us more. They said it was your play.”
“How many are we talking about?” Maia asked.
“Four,” Jack answered, putting Derek’s phone on speaker. “What the hell is going on here, Maia? And you better tell me the truth or I swear I’m going to haul your ass out of there and pack you out of Baltimore if I have to.”
“Jack, seriously, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Maia, damn it, I’m not messing around! These men look like Russian Special Forces. Just give us the word and we’ll contain them.”
“No! Let it play out.”
“What?”
“They’re after Reznikov.”
“Christ! Are we heading for a shoot-out at the conference?”
“Of course not. I’m thinking they’re looking for Reznikov. Put someone on them. We can use them to track him.”
Silence.
“Jack, leave them alone.”
“Fuck.”
“Jack…”
“All right! We’ll leave them alone … for now.”
“Thank you. Now if you would both excuse me, I have a gala to prepare for.”
Maia stepped into the Grand Harbor Ballroom dressed in a teal, sleeveless wrap around dress. It had a deep v-neckline that teased at the lacy edges of her strapless bra and the hem was a couple of inches above her knee. She was wearing cream, spiked heels and wore no jewelry except for the gold bangles on her wrist. She knew she was dressed suggestively as she mingled with the other attendees. More than once, some forward male decided to cop a feel of her ass especially in an especially crowded group, some more discreetly than others. This became more apparent as the evening wore on and the drinks kept flowing.
Maia moved to another group until she positioned herself at a cocktail table close to the stage. Not too close, just enough to be recognized by Lee. Thankfully she was flanked between an older woman and a young man who looked so timid he couldn’t even look at her.
“I hear the entertainment is fantastic tonight,” the woman gushed. “They certainly don’t skimp at these conferences.”
“They sure don’t,” Maia murmured as she took a sip of her cosmopolitan.
The emcee started the program for the evening by welcoming the attendees from different countries. The show was kicked off by an energetic dance number followed by a set from a popular female soloist. Then there was a break for a raffle draw, a typical event at such conferences. Maia was getting restless. She felt a knot in her stomach wondering how she would react to seeing Lee again.
“And now, for our main attraction tonight let me present to you Baltimore’s local pride, Ezra Crows!”
There was thunderous applause, whistles and cheering. Obviously, the crowd was pumped up for tonight’s headliner.
The dimmed lights on stage were turned up suddenly to reveal the band. The crowd went wild. It was then Maia saw him.
Lee Isaac. He was wearing a white t-shirt, low-waisted torn jeans and biker boots. His dark brown hair, which was longer than she remembered, brushed his shoulders. He was as beautiful as ever. He was tall, about 6’1”, and lean and lanky, a typical rock star build. The young female fans who were gathered right in front of the stage were screaming so loud, Maia thought some of them were going to faint.
Ezra Crows started their set with one of their energetic rock numbers. The band immediately followed this with a slow ballad. Lee still had the voice of an angel and it had not lost the power to hold her enthralled. As the song reached its chorus, Maia realized belatedly that it was the same piece of music he had been working on during one of their vacations together. It felt bittersweet to be listening to it now. She closed her eyes as she recalled that day on the beach. He was having a blast writing it, scribbling, singing a few lines, both of them laughing when it didn’t sound right. Maia’s eyes shot open when she heard him suddenly stumbling over the lyrics. Her heart caught in her throat when she saw his shocked brown eyes focus on her before turning away from the crowd to concentrate on strumming his guitar in his attempt to regain his composure. His band mates were frowning at him. When he turned back to face the audience, he started singing flawlessly again. He was fighting the urge to look in her direction, but in the end he only had eyes for her.
After his set, Maia wanted to flee. That voice, that voice had unlocked a hum of emotions and memories that threatened to overwhelm her. She decided to head for the bar to get another drink. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea so even with three bars set up in the ballroom, it was three people deep by the time she got there.
Would he look for her? Should she have waited for him like a groupie beside the stage? What if he hated her?
Maia finally placed her order for a dirty martini after waiting for twenty minutes. A hand clamped down on her left arm and she was spun around and yanked into a hard chest.
Lee. He had changed his shirt but his longish hair was still curling from sweat.
“Maia?” his voice was hoarse.
Oh shit.
“Hi Lee.”
His mouth tightened. He turned on his heels and dragged her along the length of the ballroom, not caring if he created a scene. His long rapid strides making it difficult for her stiletto heels to keep up with him.
“Lee, what the hell, slow down!”
They were behind the stage now and Lee pushed her into a dimly lit corner. Without saying a word, his lips came down hard on hers in an angry, angst-filled kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth ruthlessly, fiercely tangling with hers. When his hand went under her skirt to palm her ass to bring her closer to him, Maia stiffened and dragged her lips away.
“Lee, stop it,” she hissed.
Lee cradled her face with both hands, using his thumbs to force her to look up into his emerald eyes that were glittering with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You left me like a parched man in the desert. Disappear for five years … I’m damn well having my fill of you!”
He kissed her again but this time it was more gentle, coaxing. Maia responded tentatively. Lee’s kisses were great, but she was acutely aware that she was not reacting the way she once would have. And definitely not the way she did with Jack. Lee groaned into her neck, clearly aroused as his hardness started pushing into her belly. Shit, she needed to do something before she got fucked by the side of the stage like some groupie. He loosened the wrapped dress and trailed kisses down her neck.
“Are you staying in this hotel?” Lee whispered huskily.
“Um…yes.”
“Let’s go to your room.”
“No, Lee. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Maia said as she firmly pushed him away. “I’m here for the medical conference, not you. I’m not one of your groupies.”
Lee cursed and dragged his fingers through his hair as he regarded her closely while she attempted to straighten her dress. He seemed to come to something of a resolution. “Wanna go get a drink and catch up?” he asked sheepishly in his trademark boyish charm.
“Now that I can do.” Maia smiled up at him.
“God, you’re as beautiful as ever,” he said kissing her forehead as he entwined his fingers with hers and tugged her beside him. Together they walked across the expanse of the ballroom, fingers laced together and oblivious of curious stares around them.
Rick Grayson parked in front of what looked like an abandoned house in Ellwood Park. He had a tail from the DEA but they pulled up discreetly a couple of blocks up. He did not bother to wear a tracking device either, not wanting to risk raising any red flags when they did a scan on him. Picking up his briefcase with his laptop he walked up the worn-out porch steps and the door opened before he had even knocked.
The two guards from the convention center led him to a room where they ran a metal detector up and down his body. They inspected his briefcase with some electronic scanner to detect tracking devices.
“Where’s Colt?” Rick attempted to make conversation.
“He’s elsewhere,” one of the men answered tersely.
Rick did a scan of the dilapidated structure. It was apparent that the drugs were kept elsewhere and that this location was just used as a checkpoint.
“Let’s go.”
The two men flanked him as they led him to the back of the house where there was a waiting vehicle. The driver already had the engine running. One of the guys got in the back seat with Rick, while the other got into the front passenger seat.
Without warning, the guy beside him put a hood over his head.
Damn. He had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to wear one of these. When the car started moving, Rick concentrated hard on correlating the speed of the car, the elapsed-time and direction of the turns made. They traveled about five minutes before the car pulled up and stopped.
Rick was told to step out, still hooded as he was led up a short flight of steps. A door slid open before him as he was prodded through and led a further short distance before being relieved of the hood.
Rick blinked a couple of times and took in his surroundings. He determined that he was in a warehouse given the industrial-looking walls and ceilings of the room he was taken to. In front of him stood a tall, blonde man.
Sergei Reznikov in the flesh.
“Welcome, Mr. Redmond. I trust my men treated you cordially.”
“They did. May I?” Rick said as he gestured to his laptop. The Russian nodded and he fired up his computer. The sooner he got this deal done the better.
“Account number?”
Sergei rattled out the numbers while eyeing his own computer. Rick observed fifteen suitcases stacked up behind Reznikov. That was $22.5 million right there, and God knows if that was only for tonight’s take.
A cell phone rang somewhere. Reznikov’s henchman walked in swiftly and handed the Russian the phone. Sergei’s face was blank as he listened to the caller.
“Are you sure?” the Russian asked softly but menace laced his voice. “Take care of it.”
Sergei handed the phone back to his man and walked behind Rick. Rick went on alert.
He heard a gun cocked behind him and a cold muzzle nudged behind his skull.
Fuck!
“Would you explain to me, Mr. Redmond, how two DEA agents were found not too far from the address we gave you?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“We took care of them of course.”
“I have no idea,” Rick replied in a steady voice while feigning surprise. “Are you sure you have no spies in your network. Where’s Colt?”
“Colt was the one who took down those agents. I employ very reliable men, and Colt is one of my best.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” Rick hedged as he turned and looked Reznikov right in the eye. “Someone obviously tipped off the DEA. Maybe one of your other clients, because it damn well wasn’t me.”
Reznikov lowered his gun and Rick nearly exhaled in relief. Instead he regulated his nerves even if his instincts were screaming for him to get the hell out of there. He barely noticed the Russian nod to someone behind him before he felt a blunt blow to the back of his head before everything went dark.
