The Payback Assignment (6 page)

           
When she looked inside, her breath caught in her throat.
 
God, it was a beautiful piece of work.
 
It seemed quite at home surrounded by a stack of currency and a pair of pearl necklaces.
 
She had a special weakness for Russian malachite, the green marbled semiprecious stone which, in this case, served as a setting for one of the most perfect teardrop diamonds Felicity had ever seen.
 
Finding this kind of clarity in a three and a half carat diamond would be a thrill, even if it weren’t mounted in her favorite stone.

           
During her research, she had learned how this pendant had passed through several generations of Russian royalty.
 
It was created originally for Sophia, wife of Ivan III, late in the fourteen hundreds.
 
It was Ivan the Terrible who added the halo of perfectly matched pearls, and the smaller but equally exquisite square cut rose diamonds at the four compass points, just inside the pearl circle.
 
After that, it passed in and out of royal houses as a gift, and sometimes as a bribe.
 
Women had lied and laid for it.
 
Czars had bled on it.
 
It had been shown off with Faberge eggs and worn with priceless furs.
 

           
She briefly wished she had spotted this luscious treat for herself, but reminded herself that forty thousand dollars would allow her to be lazy and pick her shots for a while.

           
Respectfully, almost lovingly, she lifted the glittering prize from its resting place, replacing it with a flawless copy from her bag.
 
This imitation was even better than the one Mrs. Stahl was wearing that evening.
 
If, as Felicity expected, the brooch was seldom pulled out and inspected closely, weeks could pass before anyone discovered the theft.
 
The incident at the beach party would be long forgotten by then.

           
All that remained for Felicity was the simple task of covering her tracks.
 
She locked the safe.
 
She closed the headboard.
 
She neatly remade the Stahls’ bed.
 
She turned the alarms back on, leaving as she had entered, locking the door behind herself and dropping the key casually into her bag.
 
Just being outdoors made her less tense.
 
Once out of the house, the job was almost over.
 
Relief flowed down her body, relaxing muscles and senses.

           
But an unexpected sound snapped her head around.

           
It was a low, rumbling growl.

-7-

           
One of the dogs was up.
 
Her heart tripled its pace as she realized the drug did not last as long as her supplier said it would.

           
“Nice doggy,” she said, with a waver in her voice.
 
Hesitantly, she stepped away from the door.
 
After all, there was no going back.
 
All exterior alarms were now activated again and she had no time to fish around in her bag for the key.
 

           
Felicity met the dog’s eyes as she began her slow movement toward the wall.
 
The beast bared its teeth, starting forward on unsteady legs.
 
She backed slowly away from the house, one hand extended.
 
If the dog was sleepy enough, she might still escape this situation with her skin.

           
Even as she thought that, the second dog raised his head and the first one began trotting toward her.
 
Forcing her constricted chest to expand, sucking in a great gulp of air, she turned and leaned into the fifty-yard sprint to the wall.
 
She heard the padded feet, so fast, behind her.
 
Teeth gnashed, and she imagined the jaws open behind her, reaching for her legs.

           
A dozen feet from the wall she began her dive.
 
She heard slavering jaws snap shut inches from her legs as she grabbed her leather pad and vaulted over the wire.
 
Behind her, the dogs hit the wall, barking and clawing as if they could climb after her.
 
On unsteady legs, Felicity paused for four or five deep inhalations to regain her breath.
 
Then, mindful of the noise, she snatched her leather pad, stuffed it into her utility bag, and ran for her car.
 
Bouncing into the driver’s seat, she jammed the sleek, black craft into gear and sped off down the dark lane.

           
Two miles but less than two minutes later, the 300 ZX pulled to the side of the road again.
 
Now she took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh of relief.
 
She loved the tension and excitement during a caper, even when things got a little more exciting than planned.
 
But afterwards, as her adrenaline level began to drop, she all but collapsed.
 
Only now did she feel the perspiration.
 
She became aware of the clothes clinging to her body, the sore muscles from the climbing and jumping and...damn!
 
A broken nail on her left hand.

           
After the initial reaction, a slow, contented smile spread over her face.
 
Lethargically, she got out of the car into the waist high grass.
 
Staring at the skyful of stars above, she leisurely stripped, freed her hair, and toweled herself briskly.
 
Just for a moment, she let the fresh air cool her naked form.
 
Her skin now aglow, she donned her evening wear once again.
 
Bending over, she brushed her hair out thoroughly before returning to the car.

           
In her vanity mirror she meticulously removed and reapplied her makeup.
 
She fished around in her bag with her right until she found the key to Stahl’s leased Acapulco villa.
 
At the first major intersection she powered down her passenger side window and tossed out the key to Stahl’s villa.
 
Now the caper was really over.

           
Never, except in rare moments.
 
Only at times like this, the mellow times, did she crave...something.
 
But what?
 
What was missing?
 
Perhaps someone who would understand.
 
No, not just that.
 
She wanted contact with someone else who was good enough to appreciate her expertise.
 
After all, she could not go boasting about the kind of skills she had to just anybody.

           
The restlessness was setting in as she pulled into her parking space.
 
She considered a quick swim, but decided it would not help.
 
The Hyatt Regency Acapulco was quite comfortable, even luxurious, but that wasn’t what she needed now.
 
She needed to move.
 
She needed home.
 
She would get to her room and make a reservation on the first plane out to her Los Angeles place.
 
She would have the car shipped.
 
That would take days, but she had the new Mercedes CLK Cabriolet convertible waiting in the garage at her California apartment building.
 
She could drive it until her beloved Nissan arrived.
 

           
But, as she approached her room door, Felicity’s head snapped up.
 
She was getting that old familiar feeling.
 
That funny tingle at the nape of her neck.
 
That jangling of nerves that told her something was wrong, that she was in danger.
 
She never questioned where it came from or why, but she knew it had helped her avoid capture on any number of occasions.
 

           
Slowly she backed away from the door, her mind spinning.
 
She returned to the elevator and pushed the button, already mapping out alternative travel arrangements.
 
By the time the doors slid apart, she had her next move planned.

           
“Why, Miss O’Brian, don’t you like the room?”
 
The tall thin man in the elevator was neatly dressed in a blue cotton suit and held a small automatic pistol aimed at her navel.
 
A shorter man stood beside him, with darker skin and straight black hair.
 

           
“Please join me in the elevator,” the tall man said in a smooth, accent-free voice.
 
“I’ll give you the layout before the two apes return.
 
My name is Paul.
 
I was sent to retrieve something which you recently acquired at the request of my employer.”

           
“Fine, fine, only, why the gun?
 
Just come back tomorrow after I’ve had some sleep and a shower.
 
We’ll verify the funds deposited in my account and I’ll give you the package.”

           
“I’m sorry,” Paul said, “but there’s been a change of plan.
 
You will give me the antique brooch now.
 
There will in fact be no exchange of funds.
 
You will not interfere with my departure.
 
My orders are rather liberal beyond that.
 
I’d rather not kill you, but if I must...”
 
Leaving that threat hanging in the air, he stretched out his left hand, palm up.

           
Felicity stared into his ice blue eyes.
 
They were the eyes of a professional, a man who could kill without remorse.
 
For neatness’ sake perhaps, he would avoid killing if that course proved convenient.

           
People who have never been there often wonder if they would hesitate at a time like this.
 
However, when one looks death in the face, one’s values become very clear.
 
Her face formed a tired smile and she shrugged her shoulders.

           
“What the hell,” she said.
 
“I can always steal another priceless antique brooch.”
 
Slowly she reached into her bag and produced her glittering prize.
 
She tipped her hand and watched the brooch slide off her palm and land in Paul’s.
 
“By the way,” she said, “What in the world led you to me here?
 
I don’t announce my travel plans and I don’t use my real name.
 
Besides, there must be hundreds of hotels in Acapulco.”

           
“Over two hundred and fifty, actually,” Paul said.

           
“So how’d you find me?”

           
“I’m thorough.”

           
When the other two men returned, Paul turned off the emergency button allowing the car to descend.
 
Then he passed the brooch to one of his partners, a pudgy man in a crumpled plaid suit.
 
He examined the brooch with a jeweler’s glass, and verified the object’s authenticity with a nod of his head.
 
The third man, evidently a native, stared at her with undisguised lust.

           
Paul maintained the perfect distance from her, out of reach yet in complete control.
 
Leaving the hotel by a side door, the small group entered a black Cadillac limousine.
 
Pudgy drove, Paul shared the front seat and Felicity sat in the back with number three.
 
Paul’s automatic stayed on her the entire time.

           
“We have a long drive ahead of us,” Paul said.
 
“We must meet a large yacht on the East Coast, somewhat south of Mexico.
 
If you cooperate we shall leave you alive in a, er, rural area somewhere along the way.”

           
At the edge of the city, the limousine pulled up behind a large four by four type vehicle.
 
Paul guided her to the new vehicle with his gun.
 
Her three captors assumed their prior seating arrangement and they drove away, apparently abandoning the Cadillac.
 
Before long, they were cruising smoothly down the asphalt road.
 
The tires whined on the highway but it did not last long.
 
Soon the asphalt faded to gravel, then into dirt.