The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,71

glanced in the mirror, seeing one of the men step out into the road to stop the next cab.

The rigged taxi. It would only take one command for the pair to be knocked out . . . but without Zykov there was no point. In fact, it would only make the arms dealer suspicious.

‘Change of plan, Fa,’ he told the driver. ‘I need you to take the guys following me on a long tour of the islands. But I’ve got to get back to the casino.’

Fa checked his mirror. The second cab had set off after them. ‘We’re not far enough ahead for you to get out without being seen.’

‘I won’t need you to stop.’ Adam looked at the street ahead. With Cotai being newly developed, it was laid out in large blocks to accommodate the giant casinos and hotels. Finding somewhere to exit the cab unseen might be easier said than done. And the longer it took him to shake off his pursuers, the more danger Bianca was in. Zykov had undoubtedly invited her to his penthouse with more in mind than sharing a commiserative drink. ‘Holly Jo?’

‘Yes?’

‘Tell the other driver to fall back. I need room to manoeuvre.’

‘Okay. And Adam, Bianca’s just gone into Zykov’s suite. You need to get back to the casino.’

Vanwall’s sarcasm permeated his voice. ‘There’s no place I’d rather be.’

There were any number of places Bianca would rather have been than the penthouse of an explosively tempered arms dealer with a history of violence. But she kept that to herself, instead deciding to appear impressed as Zykov led her past the concierge at a desk facing the private elevator and into the suite itself.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to fake it. The lounge was expansive and opulent; a bit overdone and showy for her tastes, though far more restrained than the VIP room in the casino. But it was the view that caught her attention. One entire wall was glass, opening on to a balcony that overlooked the former colony. The islands were ablaze with light, shining against the backdrop of the dark sea.

‘That’s an amazing view,’ she said, genuinely awed by the sight.

Zykov spoke in Russian to one of his bodyguards, who nodded and headed for another room, then opened the door to the balcony. ‘Take a better look.’

A brief pang of fear struck her – what if Zykov had realised she was working with Adam, and intended to throw her off the roof? But there was no overt menace in his attitude, and whatever services the concierge provided for penthouse clientele, she doubted that they stretched to covering up murders.

Still, she followed him outside with apprehension. ‘What do you think of it now?’ Zykov asked, sweeping an arm across the vista as if it belonged to him.

Without the reflections on the glass, it was even more stunning, a pulsating jewel box of neon. ‘I can see why you paid extra for a balcony,’ she said. A moment of vertigo caught her as she looked over the edge. ‘Ooh. That’s a long way down.’

‘I am good with heights,’ said Zykov, unconcerned. ‘I was a paratrooper.’

‘Really? How . . . fascinating.’

‘I have many stories. I will tell you some – the ones suitable for a woman to hear, anyway!’ He laughed. ‘But first, a drink.’ The bodyguard came on to the balcony, bearing two glasses and a silver ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. The other man, Bianca noticed, had left the lounge – but she doubted he had gone far, ready to respond to the whims of his boss.

Zykov took the glasses as the bodyguard uncorked the bottle. The pop! made Bianca flinch; the anticipation of sudden noises put her on edge at the best of times, and this sounded uncomfortably like a gunshot. The Russian filled the glasses, then handed one to her. ‘Here.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Although I’m not sure if being cheated out of a quarter of a million dollars is really something we should be celebrating.’

‘Then we shall celebrate something else. The future, perhaps?’

‘That sounds good to me.’ They clinked their glasses. ‘To the future.’

‘The future!’ Zykov echoed, draining his champagne in a single swig. He eyed her. ‘I think it will be good. For both of us.’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ she replied, concealing her growing nervousness.

Adam looked over his shoulder. The second cab was about a hundred yards behind. It had fallen further back for a while, but the bodyguards had obviously demanded that