Hunter said softly, standing and moving from the balcony toward the ballrooms, which sat behind the café. “I know these assholes.”
Fuck. John Tazo. Who in the hell would have guessed? His real name was Johan Tarkasian, but John Tazo would work. Hunter had worked with him right out of the military but did his best to avoid him later. He really didn’t like guys who left a body trail instead of taking a little bit of care with their planning, and that was Tazo—to a T.
“These guys are dangerous,” Hunter muttered from a recess by the restrooms in the ballroom foyer. He was lucky. There were no events this night, so the room was empty. Otherwise he’d be dodging people dressed super nicely for cheap champagne. “Don’t follow—”
“They made the pickup,” Josh said quietly. “Stirling, your tracking device on the box is a go?”
“Yup,” Stirling murmured. He was minding his monitor in a coffee shop across from the hotel. “It’s currently still on location.”
“You guys,” Hunter growled, “I’m not kid—”
“They’re heading for the elevators,” Josh said harshly. “Molly and I are behind them. Stirling, I’m going to need an empty hotel room close to where they are.”
“Have your master ready,” Stirling told him. “And your master maker.”
It was a small handheld device that Josh was carrying in his backpack. Stirling had already hacked into the hotel’s database to see which rooms they had booked and which ones were vacant. All Josh had to do was give him the floor their two marks were on and Stirling could position them near the room they needed to burgle.
And then he could give them a key to the room.
“But you guys—”
“Nearing the elevators,” Molly murmured, and she’d pitched her voice so it sounded like she was saying something intimate to Josh. Ah, a young, happy couple.
“Pick the floor before theirs,” Hunter ordered. “See where they’re going, then hit the button for the floor below. We’ve got the tracker. We just need access to their room. That way, they won’t be suspicious.”
“Understood,” Josh said. “Grace, we don’t want them to see you. Wait five minutes and then hit the elevators.”
“I’m sorry, I’m on the stairwell. Where are we going again?”
Hunter took two deep breaths and couldn’t feel the oxygen. “I’m sorry?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Just tell me where I’m going. I’m on the stairwell. Hurts like a bitch, by the way. Tell me if we’re going higher than ten floors ’cause I’ll come out and use the elevator—”
“It’s key card only,” Molly said. “Honey, do you have your key card?”
“Yeah, hold up,” Josh muttered in what was obviously a play for time.
“Got it!” Stirling chimed in, but he needn’t have bothered.
From a few steps away, they could hear a voice saying, “Go ahead, step in. Which floor do you need?”
“Fifteenth,” Josh said easily. “Thank you.”
“I’m on my way to the sixteenth,” Hunter told them. “After these elevators go.” He pulled out his own master key and resolved to wait an eternity, maybe three, before he took the elevator up.
“Really, hon,” Molly murmured, “you want to do that?” Oh—cover story. It took a second to figure out what she was talking about.
Josh said, “You know, you’re right, I think the timing is too close.”
“What?” came the voice—and Hunter recognized it. Tazo. It gave him chills.
“Well,” Josh said, “we wanted to go to Grouse Mountain tomorrow, but we’re not sure if we can get back in time to see the ballet we have tickets for,” Josh told him, apparently pulling a tourist trap out of a hat.
“You’re thinking about going on the Grouse Mountain tour?” Tazo said. “’Cause I’ve done that. It was amazing. Walking on the catwalks, seeing the lumberjack games. Good fun. Worth squeezing it in.”
“Thank you so much!” Molly burbled. “The buses do get us back in time—it says so on the schedule!”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Josh had spent a lot of his young life in theater, and it showed. “Thank you,” he said charmingly. “This is our floor!”
They got out of the elevator just as Hunter got on his, and he heard Molly ask over his com, “Did you really want to go to Grouse Mountain? Because I’m totally down with that if nothing’s doing otherwise.”
“Yeah. They’ve got a whole thing with indigenous species and plants—and people!”
“Fascinating! And maybe we can fit the Butchart Gardens in on Sunday, since our plane isn’t until the evening.”
“Oh my God,” Hunter muttered at the same time Grace snapped, “Fine! Plan things for me that I