Budapest, Hungary
Asher Drake stepped out of the limousine and onto the sidewalk in front of the massive hotel. Head cocked at an arrogant angle, he asked, “We ready?”
Serena Donavan, Option Zero’s head communications specialist, answered in his ear. “Good to go on our end.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Nodding at the dour doorman standing at the entrance to one of Budapest’s oldest and most exclusive hotels, Ash, known only as Humphrey here, strode inside. Impeccably dressed in an eight-thousand-dollar suit made from the finest of wools, he wore a.testoni shoes and a Christian Lacroix tie. A dark brown wig with a receding hairline gave the impression that he was trying and not succeeding to hold on to as much hair as possible. He had a bit of putty at his nose and chin, bushy dark brows, contact lenses the color of dry mud covering distinctive blue eyes, and a set of veneers over his teeth that gave him a pointed, piranha-looking smile. Even Ash’s own mother, rest her soul, wouldn’t recognize him.
Anyone who looked at the man named Humphrey would see what he wanted them to see—wealth, supreme arrogance, and a disdain for most of mankind. Ash had played the role more times than he could count. It was actually a comfortable one, as not giving a damn came easily to him.
As he sauntered through the lobby, he was aware of the whispers, the stares. A few recognized him, most didn’t, but he ensured he made an impact that everyone would remember. Humphrey was a man who made things happen. He might not give a damn about people, but he definitely wanted them to give a damn about him. Egomaniacal Behavior 101.
Humphrey did not have an entourage. That was part of his mystique. It was rumored that he had killed ten men in less than a minute because they betrayed him. That was an exaggeration. It had been only six, and his reasons had nothing to do with betrayal.
He didn’t slow down when he neared the elevators. The doors magically opened for him the instant he arrived. Anyone watching might believe he had the power to call forth an elevator by sheer magnetism alone. They didn’t know that he had people controlling the hotel elevators. It was an amusing parlor trick that went well with the mystique he had cultivated.
The doors closed and the elevator rose slowly toward the penthouse suite. As he was alone and the cameras had been disarmed, he repositioned his earwig and asked, “Any interference with the communication?”
“Clear as a bell. Pure as the driven snow. Perfect as a spring morning on the moors of my beloved homeland.”
Ash winced at Sean Donavan’s ridiculously cheerful tone. Donavan had just returned from his honeymoon and had yet to come down from the clouds. His wife, Serena, gave a soft chuckle and said, “Shh.”
Sean and Serena’s romantic relationship had caused no problems. As usual, they were on the mark professionally and did their jobs well. When they’d announced their engagement last year, Ash had wondered if things would change. They hadn’t. In fact, other than the annoying cheerful attitude from Sean and the happy glow on Serena’s face, nothing was different. He was glad of that, as he’d hate to lose either of them.
The elevator jarred a bit when it stopped at the top floor. The doors slid open, and Humphrey emerged. In a glance, he noted the guard count was exceptionally high. Not that unusual for a meeting such as this. The reputation he’d developed for Humphrey almost required additional protection. Perhaps it was small-minded of him, but Ash enjoyed knowing that he had created that kind of fear in these people.
In an odd way, Humphrey’s deadly reputation made Ash’s job harder. Taking out the infamous Humphrey would be a gold star on someone’s assassination list. It would likely happen someday. For right now, Humphrey offered a valuable commodity that gave him a certain amount of protection. Didn’t mean some hothead looking to make a name for himself wouldn’t take the risk, but that was the game he played.
A barely perceptible nod at the behemoth guarding the door gave the man permission to commence a search. Jerking his head at the two bodyguards standing behind Humphrey, the behemoth gave the order.
Holding his arms up and out, he allowed the pat-down. Not carrying a weapon int
o a meeting with a well-known weapons broker might have seemed insane. A gun wasn’t necessary. If he wanted anyone dead, Humphrey could find ten household items to do the job just as well.
Search complete, the grim-faced guard muttered something, and whoever was on the other side opened the door. Another guard, slightly smaller than the others, stood there. “Mr. Humphrey, please come inside. Omar is waiting.”
Omar Schrader was a slight man with spindly legs, thinning hair, and an unfortunate overbite. He looked as dangerous as a sickly kitten. Behind that unassuming appearance was an intelligent, lethal man whose appetite for money was matched only by his voracious need for beautiful women. Omar relied on his wealth and influence to get him the latter.
Beady eyes twinkling, Omar held out his hand. “Humphrey, my dear friend. How delightful to see you again.”
Shaking the other man’s hand was like holding an eel, both cold and slimy. Humphrey resisted the urge to wipe his hand the instant the shake was over. Insulting Omar was not a good idea.
“You’re looking well, Omar.”
Omar gave a gap-toothed grin. “Clean living. You should try it.”
“And then where would people go when they need what I supply?”
“Excellent point. I understand you have something new to offer?”
“Experimental and tested on a limited basis only. However, the first one to make the right offer will be the first one to get the weapon.”
“I am intrigued. Tell me more.”
Humphrey nodded toward one of the men who had searched him. The flash drive had been taken from him when he arrived. Omar waved his hand, giving the guard permission to return it.
Humphrey went to a laptop sitting on a desk and inserted the drive. A few clicks later, a legitimate-looking formula appeared. Omar was no chemist, but he was educated in a variety of deadly things. The compounds in the formula could indeed kill thousands when mixed together, perhaps millions. It was authentic-looking enough to fool even the most experienced weapons dealer and would get Humphrey where he wanted to go. Omar was a go-between. He would review the information, and if he approved, he would then sell it to a client, taking a substantial fee for himself.