“Me? Uh, fine,” she sputtered, understandably surprised by the question.
“And the children? I’m very much looking forward to spending time with them while I’m here.”
CHAPTER 26
Juba
South Sudan
RAPP opened the door to the office at the back of Kent Black’s church and felt a blast of cold air. Still interested in testing Claudia’s abilities, he’d put her in charge and she continued to impress. Not only did she have a projector hanging from a bloom of wires in the ceiling, she’d managed to fix the AC.
Chairs were lined up along the wall and contained the rogues’ gallery that had replaced Scott Coleman’s flawless and unwaveringly loyal team. The desk had been cleared of Black’s junk and now held a bucket filled with ice and beer. Where she’d found ice in a city that couldn’t even keep the lights on was beyond him, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? Rapp grabbed a bottle and took a seat at the rear. He still wasn’t comfortable having these people behind him.
Claudia nodded in his direction, looking a little nervous. He didn’t react other than to twist the top off his brew. At that moment she wasn’t the woman he was sleeping with. She was his logistics coordinator. Time to get this briefing rolling.
She dimmed the lights and used a remote to turn to the projector’s first image. “This is a three-month-old shot of Prince Talal bin Musaid. He’s the nephew of King Faisal—the son of his favorite sister. She and bin Musaid’s father are both dead, and he was left with access to a considerable fortune. Sadly for him, that fortune disappeared a few days ago and is now in accounts controlled by Mitch.”
“No shit?” Black said. “How much are we talking about?”
Rapp was about to tell him to shut the fuck up but then decided to see if Claudia would let him sidetrack her meeting.
“Let’s stay focused, okay, Kent?”
She switched to an image of an impressive mansion built into a steep hillside. It was surrounded by a wall and had an imposing gate, but both were more architectural statements than security measures.
“We’ve gotten lucky. Bin Musaid left Saudi Arabia recently and is staying here with his brother in Monaco. It appears that he’s told his brother what happened, because he’s assembled a team of investigators to try to trace the missing money.”
“Will they be successful?” Azarov asked.
“No.”
“What do we know about the brother and the house?” Donatella said.
“By all reports, Hossein bin Musaid is a successful and honest businessman. Relatively secular, married to a Christian, three children of early school age. He gives a lot of money to charities, none of which are political or religious in any way. As far as the house goes, there are two security guards and another man who seems to function primarily as a driver. None are former military or particularly well trained. Basically, what you’d expect from a wealthy, well-liked man involved in legal enterprises.”
“So, civilians,” Black said. “How are we treating them?”
“Like gold,” Rapp responded. “None of them gets so much as a scratch.”
“That isn’t going to make life too easy. Does bin Musaid ever leave the house?”
“Not since he arrived,” Claudia responded.
“What are we talking about then?” Black said. “Breaching in broad daylight when the kids and the brother aren’t there? Maybe drugging the guards? You’d need a calculator to count all the things that could go wrong.”
“We’re not taking him at the house,” Rapp said.
“But Claudia said he never leaves.”
Rapp finished his beer and went for another. “Talal bin Musaid isn’t going to spend the rest of his life playing with his nieces. He’s going to want booze and he’s going to want women.”
“I tend to agree,” Azarov said. “And if he’s a wealthy Saudi, it’s likely that he’s spent a great deal of time in Monaco. Do we have any information on his habits when he’s been there in the past?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Claudia said, switching to a slide of a building surrounded by obscenely expensive cars. “This is Terry’s—a very exclusive club on a hill overlooking Monte Carlo. The prince is a member and it’s normally where he spends his evenings.”
“I’ve been there a number of times as a guest of my consulting company’s clients,” Azarov said. “There are a few armed bouncers out front, but their role is more to keep out undesirables than to handle anything serious. Cameras inside. No other security that I’m aware of.”
“Can we get in?” Rapp asked.
“Not without being a member or being accompanied by a member.”
“Then let’s get a membership.”
“Impossible,” Claudia said. “There’s a waiting list a hundred people long and most of them have more money than bin Musaid did.”
“If you’re so sure he’s going there, why not snatch him off the road?” Black said.
“I know how you men like to break things,” Donatella interjected. “But let’s not make this any harder than it is. Unless this is very different from the clubs I’ve been to, beautiful women don’t need a membership. I’ll go in, strike up a conversation with the prince, and he’ll invite me to a hotel. Then it’s just a matter of a quick jab with a needle.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Claudia said.
“Why not?”
“Because while you’re right about beautiful women getting around the membership rules, those women tend to be half your age.”
Rapp tensed, but the ice pick stayed in Donatella’s designer purse. Instead she just waved a hand dismissively. “Bland children.”
She was right, Rapp knew. No one was going for some gangly kid if Donatella Rahn was showing them attention. Unfortunately, there was no way in hell he could say that out loud.
“I don’t like the idea of you going in alone,” he offered instead.
She reached back and put a hand on his knee, a move that was undoubtedly intended to get Claudia’s attention. And, based on her expression, it worked.
“Maybe you should come in with me, Mitch. It would be like old times.”
“I believe Donatella’s plan to be a reasonable one,” Azarov said. “But with one change. It should be me, not Mitch, who goes with her. The clientele of Terry’s includes a lot of people in the extraction industry. It won’t be long before someone appears that I know. When they do, I can just go in with them.”
“I’m not convinced,” Claudia said. “Based on my research, the women bin Musaid’s been involved with tend to be a lot younger and a lot blonder.”
“Probably less Jewish, too,” Donatella said. “It’s not a problem.”
“But—”
“What are we arguing about?” Black said, unintentionally bailing Rapp out. “There isn’t going to be a guy in there that wouldn’t cut his left nut off to get Donatella in the sack. This is a no-brainer.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Claudia asked.