Chapter Thirty-Two
Darting to the side of the door and leaning his back against the wall, Donovan lifted the gun from his waistband and waited.
“Candy? What the hell are you doing here?” a burly man demanded as he marched into the office. “And who’s your friend?”
“There’s a gun pointed at your back!” Donovan said gruffly. “Hands in the air and get on your knees.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Donovan continued, hastily kicking the door shut and locking it as the man complied. “Slowly take your gun from its holster, place it on the carpet and push it towards the desk,” Donovan barked, stepping around him.
“I don’t have a—”
“Hey, don’t even try that bullshit with me,”
“Where’s Manny? Is he still locked in the vault? He said he can’t get out.”
“Shut the fuck and do what I say or I’ll put a bullet through your thigh. But I’m not a great shot and it might end up between your legs.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Slowly,” Donovan warned.
Reaching into his jacket the thug retrieved the pistol, then laid it on the floor and shoved it forward.
“Phoebe, pick up the gun and bring it to me, then see if you can find something to tie his hands and feet.”
Rising to her feet, she walked quickly toward the weapon and bent down to pick it up. Suddenly the brute hurled himself towards her, catching the hem of her twinkling dress sending her tumbling to the floor.
“PHOEBE DO IT!” Donovan shouted. “PRESS IT! PRESS IT!”
* * *
As she urgently closed her fist as hard as she could, an electric current suddenly crackled through the man’s arm evoking a wild cry.
“That’s enough, stop,” Donovan yelled.
As she jerked her hand away the gangster fell limp on the floor, whimpering and moaning and holding his arm.
“Great job, Phoebe,” Donovan declared, hurrying across to her. “Are you okay?”
“A bit shaky, but yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honestly, I’m fine, but talk about an adrenalin rush.”
“You are something else. You handled that like a pro.”
“FBI! Open up!” a male voice demanded, followed by a loud banging on the door.
“Sam’s crew is here. You need to catch your breath. Go back and sit with Candy for a minute.”
“Okay.”
“And, Phoebe, you’re a star.”
As she walked back to the couch, he picked up the gun, then quickly crouched next to the anguished man and searched for his phone. Though the pounding on the door continued, he didn’t respond until he’d found it.
* * *
“That was unbelievable,” Candy whispered. “How did you do that?”
“The dress was made to give someone a shock if they grabbed me. I just had to push a hidden button. It’s brilliant.”
“Literally,” Candy remarked with a grin. “But why didn’t it shock you?”
“I have no idea. It has something to do with the lining and the slip I have on underneath it.”
“Well that guy you’re with was right. You’re a star. I would never have the courage to do something like that. In fact, I’m not sure I know anyone who would.”
* * *
Hearing the conversation as he unlocked the door, Donovan agreed with Candy’s assessment. Adrenalin junkie or not, Phoebe was as brave and smart as any man he’d ever worked with.
“Hello, I’m Donovan Blake,” he declared as he opened it.
“Good to meet you, Donovan. I’m Special Agent Randy Miller,” the agent replied walking into the room with his men following. “What’s the status?”
“Everything’s secure. I don’t know the name of the guy on the ground but he works for Manny Trubello. He must be one of his bodyguards.”
“I’m his s-security chief,” the gangster stammered, “and I n-need a f-fucking ambulance.”
“What’s wrong with him?” the agent asked. “He looks terrible.”
“He suffered an electric shock. I did it with my dress,” Phoebe piped up from the couch. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“He needs to answer a couple of questions first,” Agent Miller replied. “What’s your name?”
“Lenny—Lenny M-Marino.”
“Why are you here?”
“M-Manny’s s-stuck in the v-vault. He c-called me f-for help.”
“Yep, I see the texts,” Donovan interjected. “In fact you exchanged messages just a couple of minutes ago.”
“We have great timing,” Agent Miller remarked. “Give me the phone, Donovan, let me take a look. Jim, Chad, move him into another room, and ladies, you need to leave as well.”
“But I really want to see this through…here…as it happens,” Phoebe exclaimed. “I won’t get in the way.”
“Phoebe, do as Agent Miller says,” Donovan said sharply.
“There’s a suite just down the hall,” Candy offered. “Can we wait there?”
“Does the door lock?”
“Yes, Agent Miler, most of the doors in this mansion have locks.”
“Then that’s fine. Agent Rockford will stay with you. Rocky?” he called. “Go with them and make sure no-one goes in or out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Though Phoebe shot Donovan a pleading stare silently asking to stay, he softly smiled and shook his head. But as she walked past him and out the door, she glowered at him over her shoulder before disappearing into the hall.
* * *
After Lenny Marino was carried out, Donovan gave Agent Miller a full report.
“I don’t know how you deal with a guy carrying Alexi Koslov’s political clout,” he finished. “He’s bound to have all kinds of connections in high places.”
“My first question is, have you seen him commit a federal offense?”
“No, but as Sam probably told you, we know—or at least we’re fairly certain—he’s here to buy The Alexandrite Empress. But we can’t prove that, and being taken to see it isn’t against the law.”
“You’re absolutely correct. We need to catch him and Manny Trubello actually making the deal.”
“Can you put surveillance equipment in this office quickly?”
“Yep, we’re equipped to handle that. Won’t take long at all.”
“Great. When it’s up you simply text him as Lenny, we get the door open and take off, then film them making the deal.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll message him now and let him know I’m working on getting the door open. Maybe we should bring your girlfriend back in. If Manny gives us any trouble she can give him a zap,” Agent Miller said with a chuckle.
“How do you know she’s my girlfriend?”
“Isn’t she?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so, but…”
“Hey, the chemistry between you two is about as electric as that dress she’s wearing.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“Hell, yeah, but reading people is a big part of my job, and I’m really good at it.”
“Apparently.”
“Regardless, I’ll run this by Sam. Hold on.”
As the agent walked away to make the call, Donovan moved to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a shot of whiskey.
The chemistry between you two is about as electric as that dress she’s wearing.
As he took a drink the remark echoed through his head.
Agent Miller was right.
But the operation was coming to a head.
Soon it would be over.
Then what?