A Thin Disguise by Catherine Bybee
CHAPTER ONE
Inside the eye of a scope, there is a spot where two lines come together. If that scope is mounted on top of a high-powered rifle and is in the hands of someone who understands the mathematical calculation of how much the projectile will descend before it reaches its target, that spot becomes deadly.
Olivia noted three snipers positioned south, east, and west of the entrance to the courthouse. SWAT . . . all of them. While she had no doubt they’d do their job well if put to the task, the fact that none of them had noticed her pissed her off.
She positioned a camera behind her scope and snapped photos of the uniformed men.
Once she was satisfied with what she had, she wrapped up her location and moved to the next. It took ten minutes to change her appearance, and ten more to get in position.
The familiar thump of her heart pounded blood up to her brain. The first time she’d ever squeezed the trigger, she’d pictured a video of red blood cells pushing through veins. With each beat, her blood pushed forward and stopped as valves closed off behind them only to be pushed forward again with another beat of her heart.
After pulling the trigger . . . the imaginary blood in her mind manifested into real puddles on the pavement.
The images she’d put in her head were nothing next to the real thing.
Nothing had prepared her for what followed.
Not one of the classes she’d been forced to take at Richter equipped her for what she needed to survive.
And yet here she was.
Heart still beating.
Soul still bleeding.
She refocused on her position and searched.
“Don’t disappoint me,” she muttered as her scope scanned the places she would have used.
Her lens narrowed in and found one solo player.
From the outside, it appeared as if the back door to the courthouse would not be in use, although Olivia’s sources said it would. So instead of moving to the front of the building, she flattened herself on her hidden perch and waited.
A buzz on her watch told her the time had come.
Her body tensed and her eyes kept in constant motion.
The door opened and several men and women in black suits emerged. Although Olivia knew the target, the team did a damn good job of blending her in.
They moved in a herd, alert but swift as they climbed into two SUVs. Once the doors shut and the cars were in motion, Olivia scanned the area again.
The lone sniper still had aim and didn’t move until the cars were out of sight. Once he did, Olivia snapped a photograph of the man to add to the others.
She waited until he left before disassembling her tools and packing them away.
An hour passed, her appearance changed once again, and Olivia vacated her position. Once on the ground floor, she blended into the overrun streets of the Vegas Strip. The hot September sun hadn’t even considered letting up as the temperatures hovered in the triple digits.
The heat under Olivia’s wig was enough to give her a stroke, but she moved along, dodging the Nevada visitors that had no need for sobriety even on a Tuesday. Young women with long hair and short shorts laughed and stumbled around while young men urged them to have one more drink.
Innocent fun . . . until it wasn’t.
Like Marie Nickerson. The girl hidden in a black suit sliding into the back of an SUV. Marie had a bounty on her head that would disappear only with her death. But once the hearing was over, and the protection program did its job, she’d never be seen again.
Even though Marie had no idea who Olivia was, she’d been Marie’s shadow for nearly a year. Much as Olivia would have loved to say, even to herself, that she had no interest in the girl, that would be a lie.
Olivia knew Marie’s crimes, and more importantly, the atrocities that had been committed against her. The girl had been forced into childhood prostitution, sold like chattel to the highest bidder, and nearly lost her life when she’d tried to break free. Olivia understood all too well what it meant to belong to someone who only wanted to use you for their personal gain. While Marie didn’t have the skills or access to shoot the man responsible, the girl did have testimony that was in the process of putting that man deep inside a federal penitentiary.
Olivia’s job was to keep Marie alive so she could do just that.
She knew where the girl was right then, knew the federal marshals who were guarding her. Marie deserved to live the rest of her life in some kind of peace. She was young enough to put this behind her, so long as the system could keep her alive.
Olivia wandered off the Strip on foot until she was far enough away from the courthouse and anyone who’d seen her in her current disguise. Inside a smoke-filled casino, one that didn’t depend on the glitz of the Strip but the desire of old-school gamblers for its income, she found a public bathroom and eased into the appearance that had rented a room a few blocks away.
She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and checked the feeds to the surveillance system on her phone. Once she knew it was safe, she left the smoky casino.
Inside her room, Olivia deadbolted the door, did a sweep, and then finally sat down.
Her right hand reached for her head and pulled the third wig of the day off. With it gone, she removed the cap that held her natural hair out of the way and shook it loose.
She sniffed . . . twice.
Her hair stunk.
She flopped back on the mattress, arms wide, and closed her eyes.
Thirty minutes elapsed, giving her brain enough time to tune out and her body a chance to soak in the cool air of the air-conditioned room.
A few more days and she could disappear . . .
Again.
Maybe this time she’d leave and stay that way. Find that beach, that mountaintop . . . that sanctuary that allowed her to forget.
Olivia pushed herself into a sitting position and placed both hands on her thighs.
Once the trial was over and Marie was in the hands of the good guys, Olivia could walk away. The promised money would go far so long as she relocated outside of North America.
Dismissing the thoughts of her future—any future—she pushed off the bed and took a few steps to the bathroom.
The water out of the shower was hot, even on its coldest setting.
Adjusting the water temperature was a simple thing when considering life’s pleasures. But cheap hotels in Nevada as summertime winded down didn’t always have the ability to do such a minimal task.
Hard, hot water washed the grime of the day and refreshed her enough for round two.
She dried her hair completely before putting it back in the cap and donning a wig. This time dishwater blonde and halfway down her back. Blue contact lenses, a beauty mark on her cheek . . . a pair of short shorts and a sparkly tank with a jacket that covered her enough to suggest she wasn’t looking for a paid date. Although she’d play that card if she needed to.
Once she was far enough away from her hotel, she grabbed a taxi and made her way to the Wynn. Upscale, cosmopolitan without the themes that many of the other resorts on the Vegas Strip used.
Inside, the hotel bells and whistles of the casino floor were slightly muted in comparison to the other resorts on the Strip. It was early and very few chairs in front of the slot machines were occupied. A handful of tables were open, and most had lone dealers standing behind them with their hands folded waiting for someone to sit down and open their wallet.
Olivia knew how to play all the games, but never saw the point. She only dipped her hand in when it suited her assignment.
She circled around the casino, making mental notes as she went. Where the secluded rooms that high rollers congregated in for private gambling were located, where employees slipped behind walls and into kitchens or bars, the exits that dumped deeper into the casino, or close to an actual exit. She landed in the cocktail lounge with a view of the casino floor.
After ordering a club soda and lime, Olivia pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.
A security screen masked her activity from anyone sitting close by, and certainly from any cameras above. She logged in to a secure space and pulled open a handful of pictures.
Players. All of them from the same family.
That’s what the mafia called those close to them.
Family.
And in the case of Mykonos Sobol, the man standing trial, he was both blood and chosen. Some of his extended family had flown in to support him. By support, that meant take over his connections and operations until his name was cleared. Olivia knew from experience that the same family was busy trying to bribe witnesses and make those that wouldn’t cooperate disappear.
The case against Mykonos was as solid as it could get so long as Marie was alive to testify.
Mykonos had bought the girl when she was sixteen.
For three and a half years, he sold her out as he saw fit. When she stepped out of line, or tried to escape his clutches, he made her pay. The last attempt at his idea of discipline nearly killed her.
At that point, Olivia stepped in. She’d been asked to return a favor. Be Marie’s shadow while the right people gathered their case and the girl could recover from her physical injuries. As her shadow, Marie never knew Olivia existed. She’d been by Marie’s side while she convalesced in the hospital and again when she was in the rehabilitation center. Her protective custody was taken care of by the federal marshals, but that didn’t mean Olivia wasn’t watching and following. And now, when tensions were high and the gavel was about to drop on the accused, moves would be made.
Navi, Mykonos’s “cousin,” had a presidential suite at the hotel. If he was a good little criminal, and Olivia already knew he was, the man and his entourage would be visible tonight. After all, they were all upstanding men with nothing to hide. And staying tucked away, out of sight, would bring suspicion to their activities. Navi knew he was being watched. Any “family” had a team assigned to them.
Since Navi was the biggest fish, Olivia was tracking him.
And the teams knew nothing about her.
Olivia scrolled through pictures and names and profiles, most of them Russian. Not Russian American, not born there and raised here . . . but born, lived, and killed Russian. Filthy rich, dirty money, mafia that lived and breathed by their own code.
With a tap on the screen, the images she’d been studying disappeared and a video game replaced them.
She lifted herself off her perch and left the lounge. The casino was picking up.
Families skirted the perimeter of the gaming sections with children in hand. Parents were not allowed to stop and toss even a quarter in a machine while their children stood by and watched. Nevada gaming did have its laws, loose as they were about everything other than gambling.
Olivia moved closer to the elevator tower that accessed the highest-price suites and waited. For nearly an hour, she moved her location to avoid suspicion. If she’d had even a little notice as to what hotel Navi was going to use, she would have set up something in the man’s room to alert her to his actions. But that hadn’t been possible, so now she was doing this the hard way.
Eventually, the hard way paid off.
Navi’s arrival on the ground floor of the hotel was hard to miss. Two men the size of small school buses flanked him, and one long-legged brunette hung on his arm like he’d paid for her.
If there was something Olivia prided herself on, it was her ability to gauge people and her surroundings. Navi’s men both had weapons, an easy deduction since they were obviously bodyguards. Their eyes were on the move and assessing the situation as they walked beside their boss. Navi wore a wedding ring, but his female companion did not. Men like Navi married for the social expectation and to bring legitimacy to their children’s names. Not to stay faithful to their wives.
Olivia stayed well beyond the eyes and ears of Navi’s party and watched as they walked into a steak house. She waited a few minutes before meandering by the entrance of the restaurant. When she did, she noticed the bodyguards taking a seat in the waiting area while Navi and the girl disappeared inside.
By her estimate, she had at least an hour and a half before Navi would emerge. She’d do a quick check inside the restaurant to ensure Navi and the girl were dining alone or make note of anyone they may have joined, and then retreat to watch him later.
She waited for a larger party to enter the restaurant and walked in quietly behind them. With her face diverted from the bodyguards, Olivia did a quick redirect and headed toward the restroom. She found a stall, waited a full minute, flushed, and emerged to wash her hands. When she left, she moved into the restaurant and looked around. It wasn’t long before an employee approached her.
“Can I help you find your table?”
Olivia smiled and glanced left and right. “I thought my party was already here, but I don’t see them.”
The waiter tilted his head. “The hostess would know if your party arrived.”
“Yeah, she was busy, so I thought I’d just duck in.” Over the waiter’s shoulder, she zeroed in on Navi and his date. A table for two with wine and candlelight.
How cozy.
The waiter leaned in and whispered. “We have a dress code in here. The manager isn’t fond of shorts.”
Olivia let her jaw drop. “Oh, shit. I should probably run up to my room and change.”
He smiled. “No one will force you to leave, but you might get a few dirty looks.”
She lowered her voice. “Thanks for the tip.”
The waiter looked her up and down. “Anytime.”
Turning on her heel, she made her way back to the front of the restaurant. She noted the bodyguards once again when someone’s shoulder nudged hers as they walked by.
“Excuse me.”
“It’s okay,” she said, looking up.
Her eyes caught his, and her smile froze on her face.
What the hell was Leo Grant doing there?