“Wait.” Nantz’s voice rose for the word. But when Embray stopped walking, it lowered again. “This isn’t a dealbreaker for me. If you’re more comfortable with your security by your side, I can accommodate that.” He was still smiling, but his smile looked strained, rather than fake now.
Embray remained silent and still long enough to whiten Nantz’s face. O’Neill could almost taste their target’s fear of losing a ripe opportunity.
Finally, with a lift to his shoulders, and a crack of his neck, Embray turned around and studied Nantz with narrow eyes. “Are you certain of this, Nantz?”
“Quite.” The bob to Nantz’s head looked frantic. So did the feverish light shining in his eyes. He appeared to desperately want, maybe even need, this business opportunity.
The secretary quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
“Then let’s continue.” Embray ambled further into the room. He glanced toward O’Neill. “Sweep for listening devices.”
“That really isn’t necessary,” Nantz protested.
There was so much worry on the dude’s face, O’Neill suspected he’d bugged the office himself. Probably to share private conversations with other interested parties.
“I protect my interests,” Embray retorted, “The reason you’ve never heard of this opportunity is because of these precautions.”
O’Neill pulled a small, plastic rectangle with a wide display and a thick antenna out of his pocket and moved toward the back of the office. His footsteps were silent, the deep-pile carpet cushioning each step. At least he didn’t need to worry about the target’s feet pounding the floor and bringing in the calvary.
When he nudged the scanner’s power button on, it instantly started beeping. The display started flashing red.
Why look at that, Good ol’ Nantz had a bug.
“Boss,” O’Neill said tersely. “We got a listening device.”
“No, that’s not possible.” Clark spun toward O’Neill and started in horror at the beeping and flashing device. “I just swept this room prior to your arrival.”
Embray waved the protest off. “It’s probably a new device with GSM technology. If you have an older scanner, it won’t pick up the new frequencies.” He motioned to Capland. “Jam it.” And then gestured to O’Neill and Simcosky. “Find the damn thing or things.”
Which was O’Neill and Simcosky’s sign to get in position and take Nantz down.
The electronic jammer Capland pulled out of his pocket cut the bug’s frequency off in mid beep. It would disrupt any cell phones in use too. But if someone was using one and brought up the dropped call to the police later, Embray would have a good excuse for the disrupted service.
Nantz was still standing in the middle of the office, with plenty of open space around him. Perfect positioning for the takedown. O’Neill and Cosky moved in behind their target as Capland silently advanced on the desk with its open laptop.
Looked like they were about to get lucky, acquiring Nantz and his computer hard drive in one fell swoop.
When Nantz turned to watch as O’Neill pretended to search for the bug, Embray stepped up and dropped his voice. “Nobody can listen in on us now. How much do you know about cryptocurrency?”
Nantz turned back to Embray and leaned closer, focusing intently on Embray’s muffled voice.
Cosky withdrew the prefilled syringe from his jacket pocket, uncapped it, and waited for O’Neill to move. This was where things got tricky. One shout would bring their target’s security detail into the room. A mistake at this stage could send them to the hospital…or prison.
Neither possibility was acceptable.
“I’m up to date on most cryptocurrencies. Is that what this is about?” Nantz asked, his voice anticipatory as Embray moved in even closer.
O’Neill slid up behind them. With one fluid movement he slapped his right palm over the target’s mouth and wrapped his left arm around Nantz’s neck. Cosky moved in with the syringe, injecting it beneath O’Neill’s left arm, into the meaty part of theirtarget’s upper back, where his jacket and shirt would hide the puncture mark when he was lying down.
Nantz froze for a second, then violently squirmed. His mouth moved beneath O’Neill’s palm, weak mewling sounds escaping. O’Neill’s palm pressed harder, until the weak cries dried up completely.
A weird sensation, almost an electric buzzing, flashed across O’Neill’s mind, followed by what felt like butterflies brushing their wings against his brain. The sensation was creepy and recognizable. He’d felt the same thing the few times he’d used his spirit gift and sank into another’s consciousness.
Son of a bitch.
His heart lurched into his throat, almost strangling him.
He couldn’t afford this distraction. Not now. Yet he didn’t know how to turn it off. He should have allowed Benioko to teach him how to use this gift—or more appropriately, how to prevent its use. Now his mentor was gone, and O’Neill had no fucking clue how the damn thing worked.
