then Marty leaned forward past her and squinted toward the windows.
“Let’s see!” Johnny the Red said, leaping toward the windows.
“Do you recognize Marty the Sneak?” Tanner asked, as he waved to Marty. “He’s with the Jersey mob. He’s identifying you for the agents right now.”
Johnny Red gazed out the window, saw Marty, and then with a horrified oath, dropped to the floor. The crash jarred the mobster’s weapon, and the gun went off. The blast ricocheted through the suite, and across the room from them, the huge ceramic pot holding the ficus plant splintered into a thousand colorful pieces. The ficus slowly toppled to the floor in a mess of dirt and shattered leaves.
“You shot the ficus!” Tanner yelled. “Be careful with that thing! You could hurt somebody!”
“Stalin’s ghosts!” Johnny Red gasped. “We never counted on the FBI! And the Jersey mob is informing! To get us out of the way! They are nothing but the lap dogs of imperialism!”
“I don’t know where the SWAT team is,” Tanner said, telling the truth for the first time in the last twenty minutes. “But I think you should get out of here while you still have a chance. We’ll stand in the windows so you can get away. They won’t shoot us.”
Johnny Red pointed the gun up at Hope from his position on the floor.
“Where’s Big Julie now?” he asked Tanner. “The truth, or she dies!”
“He’s on his way back to FBI headquarters,” Tanner lied. “He’s meeting with the FBI at—” Tanner glanced at his watch. It was four o’clock. “Four-thirty. You could intercept him if you hurried.”
“You could even make a deal with the FBI,” Hope said. “Your own deal. A better deal.”
“Yes!” Johnny Red shouted. “Let’s go!”
“Uncle, I’m not sure—” Alexei started, but Johnny Red had jumped to his feet and, bending low at the waist to stay clear of the windows and the black ops helicopter outside, tore from the room. The other four men rushed after him. Tanner heard the outer door slam shut behind them. The helicopter peeled away from the window and headed toward the Grand Canyon, two hundred fifty miles away.
Silence filled the room.
“Tanner—” Hope said.
“Just a minute, pumpkin,” Tanner said. He took out his phone and dialed a number.
“Agent Frelly? Tanner Wingate. Listen. Johnny Red and his four associates are heading over to FBI headquarters right now. If you hurry, you can intercept them.”
There was a pause. Hope could hear squawking on the other end of the line.
“Well, it’s a long story. They think they’re going to intercept Big Julie. Yes, I know he’s not there. But if you hurry, you can arrest these guys right now at the elevator. Don’t thank me. I’m always happy to help.” He closed his phone.
“Tanner—” Hope tried again.
“I’ll be right with you, sweetie,” Tanner said. He opened his phone and hit a number on speed dial.
“Jack? Tanner. Listen.”
Hope watched him grin and felt a sharp pain shooting through her jaw. She realized she was grinding her teeth.
“I have a new customer for you,” Tanner said. “You have to get down to the FBI office right away. The clients have deep but shady pockets. Five Russians who are allegedly mobsters but are probably innocent businessmen just engaging in legitimate trucking and associated commerce.”
Tanner looked over at Baby. “Baby, how good is your Russian?”
Baby looked indignant. “As fluent as my grandmother’s, born in Minsk,” she said, sparks shooting from her eyes.
Tanner smiled. “What’s your real name?”
“Real name? Baby,” Baby said, confused.
“I mean on your birth certificate. What did you mother name you?”
Baby looked down. “Angela,” she said, sounding apologetic.
“That’s a pretty name.”
Tanner turned back to the phone and Hope felt a throbbing pulse in her temple. She’d been glad to see Tanner? She’d been worried when he walked into a room full of Russian gangsters? Now it was all, just a minute, pumpkin, and I’ll be right with you, sweetie, like she was one of her mother’s regulars at the Bluebell Café. And Baby! Was Tanner forever planning to flirt with her friend? She was so done with this. Him and his lying, cheating ways.
Tanner had turned back to the phone. “Jack? About the Russian mobsters. Their English is pretty good, but I’m sending you a translator, just in case they need help with procedure.” He paused for a second while Jack talked.
“No, trust me. This translator is good. Her name is Angela. You’ll like her.”
Tanner paused. Then he grinned.
“Don’t thank me. I’m always happy to help.” He folded