Page 39 of Through the Fire

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Eighteen

Damian liftedthe binoculars to his eyes and scanned the front door of Skin for the tenth time that hour. It was a small flat-roofed building with peeling paint huddled between an empty lot and an electronics store. He’d never understood the fascination with strip clubs, but most of his men enjoyed them, which meant he spent time in them whenever a celebration was inorder.

“Anything?” Cole asked next tohim.

Damian shook his head. “Couple guys just walked in, but they look like car salesmen. Doubt they’re connected to Anastos’operation.”

“Locke and Derek have been in there for over two hours,” Colesaid.

“They’re okay,” Damian said. “We’d know if something wentwrong.”

They’d established signals beforehand, setting up a series of taps on the mic that would allow Damian and Cole to know what was going on — one tap if they were in trouble and needed help, two if they’d spotted Anastos and were ready for Cole andDamian.

They could hear what was going on around Locke and Derek through the comms system, but so far it had been nothing but music and the broken English of the waitress asking them if they wanted anotherdrink.

“I just hope they’re going to be sober enough to pull this off when the time comes,” Colesaid.

“I don’t think we have to worry aboutthat.”

For all of Locke’s recklessness, Damian had never actually felt like he was in trouble in the other man’s company. Locke was unconventional, a little wilder than the people Damian liked to employ in his own organization, but he wasn’t stupid orunreliable.

“Think he’s in there?” Cole asked. “Anastos?”

“No way to know until we get the signal,” Damian said. He thought about the dark eyed girl in the alley in Omonia. She’d taken a chance coming to him, and while there had been money in it for her, he’d felt her urgency, had seen the flash of anger in her eyes when she’d spoken of her cousin who worked as a dancer at the club. “My gut saysyes.”

“I hope you’re right,” Cole said. “We need to get back to NewYork.”

Damian put down the binoculars. “Everything is relatively stable in NewYork.”

“I know,” Cole said. “But I don’t like not being there with Gatti still on theloose.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable position. The Syndicate — via Damian’s organization — had a handle on the city’s most important assets, but none of them were foolish enough to consider the job done until Anastos and Gatti were out of the picture forgood.

A sudden commotion on the mic forced Damian’s attention away from New York. He looked at Cole who had obviously heard it too, and they listened as Derek negotiated a lap dance with a woman inside theclub.

Four seconds later two distinct taps came across themic.

“Let’s go.” Damian checked his weapon and reached for thedoor.

They’d parked on a street that ran perpendicular to the strip club. It would mean a tougher getaway, but they hadn’t wanted to risk being made with Locke and Derek inside thebuilding.

“We’re on our way,” Damian said into his mic as he got out of thecar.

They walked quickly past crumbling apartments and mini-markets, an assortment of people slouching through the streets smoking cigarettes, and in two cases, taking swigs from bottles of clear liquid that was probably either ouzo orvodka.

“Think they have cameras on the doors?” Cole asked as they approached thebuilding.

“I don’t know,” Damian said. “Best to assume the worst. I’ll take the front. Stay against the building while you head to the back. The overhang should hide you from any cameras mounted near theroof.”

“Willdo.”

Damian wished there was more to talk about, that they had more of an idea what they were up against, but they’d opted to avoid dialogue from Locke and Derek on the comms system as a precaution. The muffled tapping was the best they could do without risking detection by someone inside theclub.

They would have to play it byear.

They reached the front of the club and Cole immediately cut to the left, staying close to the building as he disappeared around thecorner.

Damian made a show of digging in his jacket for anyone who might be watching him. To the casual observer, he might appear like a possibly intoxicated customer just off work, making sure he had enough singles and fives for thedancers.


Tags: Michelle St. James Erotic